An Offer for All Time

There is little that can scare me in this life. Except maybe loneliness. There is no cure for that and we're all vulnerable to it. Especially me. Side effect of being immortal, you see. My name is Amy Bigelow, but friends have been referring to me as Big Booty Amy for as long as I can remember. I'm a five-foot-eight, somewhat thick white chick with big tits, wide hips and a big ghetto booty. The kind of bubble butt that is quite rare on white females. That's what the fellas keep telling me anyway. I don't mind hearing that. I find my shape quite pleasing and so do my admirers. That's my body and I am proud of it. It's my life.

I recently moved to the city of Boston. Still not sure why. I guess I was looking for a change of pace. I've been around since 1899. Yeah, I'm over a century old. When I was twenty, I ran into an old man who called himself Curtis Thorne. He was a nice enough guy, and he gave me a place to stay while I was surviving on the streets of New York. I had a lot of adventures while working as a prostitute. I am not proud of it but I did what I had to in order to survive. I had a favourite john and his name was Michael O'Shea. He was a tall, good-looking Irish guy with red hair and sparkling green eyes. The kind of eyes that made me feel moist in funny places. And he was seriously hot, too. Unfortunately, he was trapped in an unhappy marriage to a control freak named Mildred. At first, we were just having sex for cash. Then, something happened. We became more than that. His wife found out and ran me through with a switchblade. I lay dying in a pool of my own blood in the Hudson River.

That's when Curtis came by on a barge. He rescued me. As it turns out, my friend Curtis was no ordinary old man. He was actually a divine being from another world. He had magical powers and everything. He healed me, and granted me eternal youth as well as an accelerated recuperative ability. As long as my head is still attached to my shoulders, I can never die. I will regenerate any lost or damaged body part. If my head is cut off, however, I am dead. The old man transformed me into one of the legendary Immortals who walked the earth. After this, he simply disappeared. I found myself alone in the world, and forever changed. In a world of death, I had been granted endless life. It didn't make my life easier but I certainly had more living to do. I worked the streets no longer. Instead, I became a shoemaker in Brooklyn. I picked up more skills, becoming an artisan and later, a book illustrator. I even served during World War II.

The ancient deity masquerading as Curtis returned to me in 1950. He claimed that there was much for me to do. The gods and goddesses of the mundane world were at war with a powerful entity called the Archon, the Destroyer of Worlds. Archon was an undying entity with god-like powers which had been around since before time began. It was responsible for the deaths of countless gods and goddesses. While on earth, the gods were forbidden to directly interfere in human affairs. So they created intermediaries, the Immortals, to fight against the dark side. Archon had its own agents. The Soul Stealers.

What is a Soul Stealer? As I soon found out, something I really prefer to avoid. A Soul Stealer is a reanimated corpse whose only purpose is absorbing the life-force of ordinary humans in order to aid its fight against the Immortals. Soul Stealers are men and women whom Archon acquired to suit its purpose. They have superhuman strength and speed. They heal quickly. And they cannot die. You can cut them to pieces, burn their remains and scatter the ashes, they will always come back. The energy which animates them always reconstitutes the body after it has been destroyed. The only way to be rid of them is to starve them. A Soul Stealer needs to feed on humans to survive. If it doesn't feed regularly, it weakens. Although still indestructible, it can be captured and disposed of. How? Simply by burying it deep underneath the earth.

As I made my way through this life, I met some of my fellow immortals. There weren't that many of us. Which is why the gods went about creating new immortals to protect humanity and fight against the forces of evil. The first immortal I met was Wagner Rossbach. He's a tall, good-looking German guy with long blond hair and blue eyes. He's so frigging hot it's not even funny. He makes Fabio look like Screech. Wagner was once a prince in fourteenth century Germany. Nowadays, he worked as a police officer in New York City. He encountered Curtis while in battle against a barbarian horde in 1378. He was twenty eight years old. That day he became an Immortal.

He's one of the most powerful Immortals out there. I was drawn to him immediately. Immortals can sense one another across great distances. Wagner trained me. He taught me how to fight the Soul Stealers. The guy really knew his stuff. He could use any weapon ever made. Also, he developed a most effective means of subduing the Soul Stealers. He built these guns which fired electromagnetic pulses. For some reason, these pulse weapons wreaked havoc on the Soul Stealer's nearly invulnerable bodies. To date, he had captured hundreds of them. The Immortals keep the bodies of captured Soul Stealers buried in a special graveyard from which they cannot escape. I don't know where that graveyard is. Only Wagner and a select group of Immortals know.

The war against the darkness raged. Since the 1960s I'd been running with the Hunters, also known as Wagner's Elite Fighting Unit. It was made up of several Immortals who were the terror of Soul Stealers everywhere. First, there's Athena Melvin. She's a tall, gorgeous young woman with long black hair and light bronze skin. She's one of the oldest Immortals, having been around since 3000 B.C. She actually inspired the Greeks by being their defender against their enemies, supernatural or otherwise. In ancient times they worshiped her as the Goddess Athena. I was rubbing elbows with a living legend.

One of the most impressive Hunters was Stuart Shane, who was once known as the Greco-Roman mythical hero Hercules. Born around 2800 B.C. he was Athena's junior by a couple of centuries and also one of the most powerful immortals out there. I've never seen such a strong man in my life. We immortals have eternal youth and the ability to regenerate. We are no stronger or faster than ordinary humans. Hercules, however, was different from the rest of us.

Hercules was born of a woman whom the nefarious Archon turned into a Soul Stealer while she was pregnant with him. Hercules father was Zeus, a now deceased immortal warlord whom the Greeks also worshiped as a God. Zeus was Athena's mentor, long before the birth of Hercules. The two of them shared a sibling-like relationship. Because of his unique parentage, Stuart Shane, also known as Hercules had abilities other immortals could only dream of such as superhuman strength and speed along with an affinity for spotting Soul Stealers. These days, he works as a college football coach. He's also married to a woman named Esther Villanova, whom he has two sons with. It is rare for immortals to have offspring. Our relations with humans aren't often fruitful. However, sometimes they are. The offspring of Immortals and humans, though extremely rare, are always only human.

I was in excellent company these days. My friends and teammates were men and women whom history and mythmaking made legendary. Only one team member rubbed me the wrong way and that's Isabella Montoya, she who was once known as the legendary La Llonora, the Weeping Woman of Spanish Lore. This tall, voluptuous gal had dark bronze skin, light gray eyes and short black hair. Truth be told, she was gorgeous but what a bitch. Next to me, she was the youngest member of the team, being only a few centuries old. The other Immortals were polite, courteous and kind of pleasant to be around. They were okay people, just there to do their job. Isabelle pranced around the Lair, as Stuart called his house, like she was a supermodel on the catwalk. She and Athena didn't like each other one bit. If I have to spend eternity around her and Isabella's acting like that, I'm gonna leave my fingerprints on her damn face.

Last but not least, I met my favorite member of the group. A big and tall, somewhat chubby black man named James Lakeside. He was an ancient immortal whom the Ashanti People of Africa once worshiped as Anansi, the Trickster God. Like the rest of us, he had been turned into an Immortal by Curtis, the Messenger of the Gods. James had been alive since 3200 B.C. Curtis was forced to depart shortly after transforming him and didn't run into him for several thousand years. Like many Immortals, James Lakeside thought himself a god based on his newfound abilities. He became the protector of the Ashanti People, defending them from their enemies. He ran into fellow immortals Hercules and Athena while on a trip to Ancient Rome, and they reintroduced him to Curtis. That day, he found out about his true destiny. He then joined the team.

Thus my adventures began. For decades, we fought the Soul Stealers, or the S.S. as we called them. It was a never ending battle. Every night the Soul Stealers numbers seemingly increased. And ours didn't. I became quite good at fighting these things. One night, I bagged me two of them. A tall, slim Asian guy and his partner, a bulky blonde female bodybuilder. The two of them had trapped a nice Haitian family inside a restaurant and were having a real buffet.

Ignoring the family's please for mercy, they fed on the mother's life-force, then the father's. Tthey left them writhing on the floor. Before they got to the couple's son and two daughters, I got to them. They instantly sensed that I was an Immortal. The female Soul Stealer surged toward me with a sword. I fired two shots of my pulse gun, and down she went. The male Soul Stealer roared in rage as his partner went down and rushed at me. Before I could make a move, however, he fell. The son of the Haitian couple had lashed out and tripped the rushing Stealer. Enraged, the Stealer reached for the lad. Before he could touch him, I blasted him with my gun. Down he went. I stood over them. Two Stealers down, countless more to go. I went to check up on the humans. The mother and father would be alright. The stealers hadn't drained them, but they had lost years of their lives. That's what a Stealer does. It takes away your youth, your health, your life-force. It makes you age unnaturally. That's how they feed. Someday, I mean to rid the universe of them.

For decades we fought them. I lost count of how soul-stealing undead men and undead women I personally captured and buried. I was all about the mission. No boyfriends. No girlfriends. Just a soul-keeping gal on a mission. Until I got tired of it. I was staring down eternity alone and truth be told, it was frightening. Don't get me wrong, I had my fellow Immortals. But most of us didn't care to hang around each other unless we were hunting soul stealers. Many of us were in relationships with mortals, striving for the normal lives we'd never have. Finally, I had enough of it. I left the Hunters and began flying solo. I came to Boston, to remake myself. I hadn't been to bean town in nearly a century. I've heard good things about it. The Celtics, for one. I think I'm gonna like it here. See you around, folks.