Black Super Couple Rules World

My name is Wendy Beaulieu, and this right here is my story. Life is tough for those who are genetically different from the rest of everyday humanity. It's especially tough for me these days. You see, I'm not exactly like everybody else. And although my background and appearance play a big part in it, they're not the main reason. At six foot three inches and weighing over two hundred and fifty pounds, I'm taller and bigger than most. Add to that the fact that I'm a dark-skinned, heavyset and big-bottomed young Black woman in a world that worships only the likes of skinny, blue-eyed, blonde-haired Caucasian females and you can understand why I have trouble fitting in.

These days, I try to avoid getting anyone's attention. It's not a question of modesty or even shyness. It's a matter of survival. You see, I am a superhuman. Living in a world where all others like myself are to be killed on sight. The United States Government has been hunting superhumans for decades. The police force of all major cities are participating in this nationwide effort. Things are even worse for superhumans in Europe. The public execution of captured superhumans has become a routine matter. For humanity doesn't see superhumans as people. They don't refer to us as he or she. They refer to us as it. We're not people, or even animals to them. We're things that need to be destroyed.

I don't tell anyone that I'm a superhuman. We can't trust anyone these days. The friends and family members of superhumans routinely turn them over to the police for cash rewards. To be a superhuman is to be an abomination in twenty-first century planet Earth. There isn't a single country in the world that hasn't mobilized its military and police personnel to hunt down those born with super powers. Even usually pacifistic Switzerland has joined the global war effort against superhumans. They intend to wipe us out. And unless humanity is stopped, that's exactly what is going to happen. Hundreds of thousands of supermen and superwomen have been executed by the governments of various countries around the world. Our executions are televised and have higher ratings than the Superbowl.

I try to lead as normal a life as possible. I am a Nursing student at Barack Obama University in Boston, Massachusetts. It's the youngest historically black college in the United States of America. I'm originally from Brockton and moved to Boston because I wanted to live on the campus named after my favorite human of all time. U.S. President Barack Obama treated both humans and superhumans fairly during his presidency. He was not a tyrant or a bigot. And the private school that is his namesake has long been a bastion of tolerance and optimism. A place where those who think differently are welcomed.

I moved into the campus in August of 2039. One of twenty six thousand students on campus, fifty two percent of whom were of African-American or Hispanic descent. Like my father, Wendell Beaulieu before me, I tried out for the Barack Obama University Men's Varsity Football team and made it. The school fields one of the most competitive Football teams in the NCAA Division One. People are often surprised by my choices. There are so many other varsity teams on campus.

They offer Men's Intercollegiate Baseball, Basketball, Cross Country, Soccer, Fencing, Swimming, Football, Wrestling, Golf, Tennis, Ice Hockey, Bowling, Track & Field, Volleyball, Gymnastics, Rodeo, Rugby, Lacrosse, Sailing, Nordic Skiing, Water Polo and Rifle along with Women's Intercollegiate Softball, Basketball, Cross Country, Soccer, Nordic Skiing, Swimming, Field Hockey, Wrestling, Golf, Tennis, Ice Hockey, Bowling, Track & Field, Gymnastics, Rugby, Lacrosse, Equestrian, Fencing, Volleyball, Synchronized Swimming, Water Polo and Rifle. I chose Football because I simply loved it. I played Football in high school and I wanted to play in college. End of story.

Once, a lot of people wished they could be special. Well, I live in a world that's turned against those who are special. In 2009, the first true Superhero revealed himself. Jeremiah Brown III. A six-foot-three, 240-pound black man who worked for the Massachusetts State Troopers. He saved the lives of Massachusetts Governor Deval Patrick and United States President Barack Obama when both men were attacked by a group of gun-toting White Supremacists posing as FBI Agents at the Massachusetts State House. That day, Jeremiah was celebrated as a hero. The world finally had a real-life superman and he was African-American! The people simply called him the Black Knight. Jeremiah Brown III could do things most people could only dream of. He could run faster than a NASCAR vehicle. He also could lift twenty times his own weight. And he looked good enough to be a male model. Yeah, the man was perfect.

Over the next few years, more and more superheroes revealed themselves. There was Nancy Patterson, a tall, red-haired Irishwoman from the city of Atlanta who could fly at Supersonic Speeds. She saved hundreds of lives when an airplane leaving Atlanta for Boston nearly went down. There were many others. Superheroes like Peter Kilpatrick, a skinny Jewish guy from Los Angeles who could generate enough electricity to power up a world-class city. He saved Los Angeles from a terrorist attack. Yeah, the world fell in love with superheroes. They replaced professional athletes and movie stars as the object of public worship. For twenty years, the entire world fell into hero worship. Until Justine Baxter and her lover, Nicolas Smith, came along. Two superhumans who wanted to rule the world.

Justine Baxter, the six-foot-tall, blonde-haired and green-eyed former U.S. Army Captain with the fantastic super powers and ruthlessly brilliant mind. This powerhouse of a woman was dangerous. Not only could she fly at super speed and assume virtually any form, she could also control the minds of both humans and superhumans. Flight. Shape-shifting. Telepathy. She had it all. In 2029, she and a group of extremely powerful superhumans blew up half of New York City and simultaneously seized power in countries like Canada, Mexico, Britain and France. In the months that followed, powerful superhumans also seized power in Japan, China and the Middle East. Tens of thousands of the world's most powerful superhumans faithfully served Justine Baxter and her agenda of world domination. Hundreds of thousands of genetically enhanced human beings joined the cause.

What followed was the battle that started the war. There are a few million superhumans on the planet but about eight billion ordinary humans. Even with our super powers, we were a little outnumbered. I don't know what the others were thinking. Humanity was betrayed by the very same super-powered individuals it trusted for decades. Superheroes were seen as the protectors of mankind. For two decades, they were. They fought against terrorism, global warming and genocide. They fought world hunger, and prevented more disasters than I could count. Then they turned against humanity. And the war of the species began. Human versus superhuman. Man versus superman. It started in 2029. It is now 2039. And the war still rages on.

This happened way before my time. Yet I am made to suffer for it. I don't know why the humans hate my species. Not all of us are super-powered megalomaniacs. I for one want to help people. I don't want to rule the world, or become a participant in some species war. I'm a Nursing student, for crying out loud. Nurses are overworked and underpaid men and women who save your lives when doctors are too busy posturing. Do I sound like someone who's on the path to becoming a tyrannical maniac? Trust me, I'm not. When I walk through the hallways of Barack Obama University, I bear my human classmates no ill will. As long as they don't come after me, we'll all be fine.

It's going to be Valentine's Day in a few days and I sigh, feeling sad just thinking about it. There is this guy I really like. Jamal Stanley, a six-foot-four, 260-pound black stud muffin. Captain of the Barack Obama University Football team. The sexy guy all the females on campus want to get their hands on. He has the body of an Olympic athlete, the face of a Male Model and the brains of an Einstein. I didn't think perfection existed until I met him. He's one of my few friends on campus. We've been hanging out a lot lately ever since he got dumped by his ex, a blonde-haired bimbo named Melissa. We're really good friends, and teammates on top of that. I really like him but he doesn't know. I'm afraid of letting him know because he goes through women like flies go through honey. And I'm not exactly a normal gal and I don't know how he feels about superwomen like myself. I don't want to end up dead because the guy I like hates super people.

One Friday night, we were hanging out with some of our teammates in Copley Square after our victory over Boston College when these thugs robbed the nearby City Bank. I looked on while the police exchanged gunfire with the robbers. Standing beside me, Jamal looked perplexed. He excused himself, and walked away. Moments later, I watched as a tall man clad in black leather and wearing a mask flew into the bank. In less than two minutes he took out the thugs, and flew away. The crowd watched, amazed. I shook my head. I didn't know who the superhero was, but I wish he hadn't done that. Now the police wouldn't stop hunting him until he was dead. Even though he saved the lives of many police officers. Humanity is full of ingrates. That's just the way they are. To my amazement, a few people in the crowd started clapping as the superhero flew away. The people were actually grateful for what he'd done.

I felt very uncomfortable, for obvious reasons. There were too many cops there. The Government's special Tracking Units would be on the scene shortly. I went back to my dorm. I really didn't want to have to move. The sightings of superhumans displaying their powers in a big city usually led to a witch hunt until the poor guy or gal was found and killed. I looked vainly for Jamal, but he was nowhere to be found. I was kind of worried for him so I went by his dorm to check up on him. Just to see if he'd made it home alright. As I waited in the darkness on a bench outside the dorm, what I saw amazed me. Jamal, descending from the sky. Like a bird. Fortunately, the campus was deserted since it's a Friday night, so nobody but me saw him. I gasped in shock. Jamal was the superhero!

I must have gasped pretty loudly, for Jamal turned around. His eyes zeroed in on me. In a flash, he was right in front of me. Moving at super speed. We stood less than a foot apart. Jamal looked me in the eye and asked me if I was going to turn him in. I asked him why he saved these people, since it endangered him. He shrugged, and told me that it was the right thing to do. When I looked in his eyes, I saw grim determination. And a bit of fear. With his jaw set, he told me he didn't care whom I told his secret to. He could be in China in less than ten minutes. I smiled, and shook my head. I calmly told him I wasn't going to turn him in.

Jamal stared hard at me, and asked me why. He told me that humans caught helping superhumans hide in plain sight were to be executed as well. I smiled at Jamal, then laughed as I leapt into the sky. If you could have seen the look on his face, you would have laughed too. I don't think I've ever seen a man look so shocked. A few seconds later, he took off after me. I flew away from the school, into the Boston sky. I noticed Jamal was following me. Good. It had been a while since I flew. Good to see I still got it. I flew faster, wanting to see if Jamal could keep up. He did. I was impressed. I can fly at supersonic speed. Very few fliers can keep up with me.

Jamal and I stood two miles above the city, hidden from sight by the clouds. He stared at me, surprise still filling his handsome face. I grinned, and told him I enjoyed the chase. He shrugged, and said I had mad skills. I took that as a compliment. Suddenly, Jamal was much closer than before. And next thing I knew, he was kissing me. Once I got over the shock factor, I kissed him back. Passionately. My first time kissing a guy in ages. We flew together, smiling and joking as we chased each other in the sky. I had a ton of questions for him, and there was much he wanted to know about me. We had a lot more in common than I previously thought. Both of us came from secretly superhuman families living in plain sight among the hostile humans. I was raised by my father Wendell after my mother died giving birth to me. Jamal grew up the adopted son of Barbara Wilson Brown and Janine Stanley, two super-powered black lesbians living in Plymouth. Damn!

Yeah, we were truly birds of a feather. We flew all night, then returned home. He promised me we'd go flying again tomorrow night. I looked forward to it. After an evening of wonders, Jamal brought me to my door step, kissed me goodnight, then left. What a gentleman! I watched him go. The man was fine, sexy, smart, and a true gentleman. Right after he left, I called my dad. My father Wendell Beaulieu is a veteran fireman of the Boston Fire Department. He's fireproof and can control fire since he's Pyrokinetic. He retired after a distinguished career.

My father wasn't thrilled that I woke him up so late at night, but I couldn't wait to share the news. The guy I had a crush on since starting college was like me! And he liked me! My dad was mad at me for displaying my powers and taking chances. He told me to be careful with Jamal. I promised him I would be. Then I wished him goodnight, and went to bed. As I lay in bed, I looked at the picture of Jamal which I kept in my dresser. That of my favorite stud coming out of the locker room bare-chested. Hot damn! He's so perfect. I want him bad! And judging by the way he kept checking my big juicy ass as we flew tonight, I know he wants me too. I know I might be getting ahead of myself here but I've already got our brats names picked out. Am I crazy? Maybe, but a gal can dream, can't she?