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Bisexual Somali Wizard

Man, why can't fate smile upon me for a change? I shook my head as I read the "go away nigger faggot" sticker on my car. Fucking retards, I grumbled and ripped off the sticker, crumpling it and tossing it on the ground. For a moment, I stood there, feeling both angry and powerless in the parking lot of the Royal Bank of Canada in Nepean. Who could have done this? I looked around the parking lot, staring at people getting into their cars or walking into the bank. Finally, I got behind the wheel and took off, driving down to my spot on Merivale Avenue. I've been working as an account manager at the bank for nine weeks now, and just when I started to get used to it, the shit hit the fan.

Someone's been broadcasting my business all over town and I know exactly who it is. Dylan, this motherfucker I made the mistake of getting involved with. Man, it's on now and he's got to pay for putting my business out like that. Oh, snap. I forgot to introduce myself. Sorry about that. My name is Ishmail Razzaq, and I'm a young man of Somali and Egyptian descent living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. Six months ago I graduated from Algonquin College with my bachelor's degree in Accounting and I'm saving up for business school. I've got my eye on Carleton University's Sprott School of Business. I've heard good things about it.

I didn't get too many breaks in this life, to tell you the truth but I believe that if you do the best that you can and trust in Allah, doors will open for you. Being bisexual and Muslim isn't the easiest thing in the world. You would think my parents would be understanding considering what they went through when they got together. My father Omar Razzaq is Somali and my mother Samira Hakam is Egyptian. Now that's a pairing you definitely don't see every day. The Arabs are racist as hell and it's extremely rare for an Arab woman to marry a Black man. Nevertheless, my parents met as foreign-born students at the University of Calgary in the 1980s, and fell in love. My mother's Egyptian family was staunchly against her being with my father because, like all Arabs, they consider Black people to be inferior. Nevertheless, my mom followed her heart and defied the forces of bigotry and traditionalism by choosing her own mate. They ran away to Ontario, got married and had little old me.

The tale of how they met is one I heard often while growing up in Ottawa. Life isn't often kind to those of us who are unique. When my parents and I would go to the local mosque, the Arabs would stare at us the way humans look at unicorns in the movies. Arab men sometimes marry Black women but Arab female/Black male pairings are almost completely unheard of, even though lots of Arab women find Black men attractive, it's Arab racism that keeps them from intermarrying. Anyhow, as the son of a unique couple, I was used to having all eyes on me. My mom is a recently retired schoolteacher and my father is a sergeant with the Canadian Armed Forces. Our family does alright for itself, considering how hostile Canadian society can get in the face of educated immigrants trying to 'move on up'.

When I said I was unique, I meant it, ladies and gentlemen. You see, there are lots of things out there which members of ordinary humanity aren't meant to see. Angels and Demons walk the Earth as do vampires, werewolves and monsters of various origin. You've probably seen them without knowing what they were because they can disguise themselves as disturbingly ordinary people. It's what they do and it makes sense, when you really think about it. What better disguise than the one that allows one to blend in effortlessly by hiding in plain sight? Yeah, well, they can hide from you but they can't hide from me. I have The Sight. The ability to see all things supernatural. It's not something I want, or need, to tell you the truth. Like my skin color, or my sexual orientation, it's just another thing I've got to live with.

I have this ability and honestly, when it first emerged, I didn't have a clue what to do with it. One night, while hanging out with some school friends at the movie theater after summertime football camp, I saw my cousin Kader at the movies with a tall, fine-looking young Black woman. I knew this dame wasn't human, though I couldn't tell you why. I approached Kader, and begged him to stay away from her. Annoyed, he told me to beat it and I reluctantly left. The next day, Kader didn't come home. Three days later our family went to the police to file a missing persons report. Two weeks later he was found dead, his body completely drained of blood. As the family mourned Kader's loss, I blamed myself. I knew something was wrong with that lady, though I couldn't tell you how I knew it. I should have tried harder, and explained my suspicions to Kader. Should've, could've but didn't, I guess.

Little did I know that the bloodsucker I saw Kader with wasn't even the worst of all the things that are out there. Vampires are dangerous, but they pale in comparison to Fallen Angels and Demons, or the more powerful breeds of Monsters. I was still in high school and I was slowly adjusting to the fact that we're surrounded by freaks and things at a time when most of my peers worried about zits, tests and the atrocities of dating. It was too much for me, and I had a breakdown. I snapped, man. I ended up in Bellevue, a mental health facility for at-risk youths, and that's where I met Dylan. The tall, dark and handsome, fearless rogue who shared my bunk. As a short, chubby young man, I was quite vulnerable to all the taunting, teasing and bullying that one gets in facilities like Bellevue, from both guards and residents. Dylan protected me from the creeps, and he gave me the confidence to confront them head-on when he wasn't around.

Dylan and I became lovers, and it didn't change our friendship one bit. In fact, at the time I thought Dylan was the best thing that ever happened to me. He believed me when I told about my ability to see nonhumans, and encouraged me to hone my skill. With his encouragement, I began to see The Sight as a gift rather than a curse. For instance, I knew that Mr. Barnes, a racist creep who was the leader of the guards at Bellevue, liked to fondle us residents when nobody was looking. I could also see The Reaper, the ancient spirit that follows those about to die, hovering around Barnes. So when Barnes had a heart attack in the facility's basement, instead of going for help I simply closed the door and let the Reaper have him. Thus, our tormentor was gone at last. I felt a bit bad about it but Dylan told me I was a hero for letting an evil man die, thus sparing his future victims a lifetime of pain and misery. When you look at it like that, I guess Dylan was right. I thought he was right about everything, in those days.

A few months later, I "got better" and my parents came to pick me up. I went home, but Dylan followed me. When I got home, I wanted to put everything that happened behind me. All this time I spent at Bellevue, I questioned many things except the true nature and identity of my best friend, lover and benefactor Dylan. How in hell could he follow me home since he was still at Bellevue when I left? You see, he wasn't human, and the whole time I was at Bellevue, only I could see him. He was invisible to everyone else. Yeah, Dylan was one of the very things he warned me against. In Islam, there are tales of the Djinn, immortal entities made out of smokeless fire. It is believed by Muslims worldwide that the entity known in Christianity and Judaism as Lucifer is Iblis, the Lord of the Djinn. Iblis and his ilk exist to tempt humans and lead them astray, away from the love of Allah. I had been sharing my bed and my life with a Djinn for months and hadn't known it. And he wasn't going away. I went to Masjid and asked Imam Mohammed Aden for advice about how to get rid of a Djinn. Hypothetically, of course.

Imam Mohammed Aden is a wise old Somali man I've known my entire life. He officiated at my parents wedding and he was the one who circumcised me shortly after my birth. I have the deepest respect for this man. He sat me down and talked to me, explaining to me that all of Allah's sons and daughters are participants in the war between good and evil. The best defence against the forces of evil is the Word of God, the Imam explained to me, and with that, he pointed to my Quran. I smiled and nodded. In the movies, I've seen priests use the Bible to exorcise Demons from the bodies of the people they possessed. With my Quran, I would banish Dylan.

I went home and confronted Dylan, brandishing my Quran in his face. A look of surprise filled Dylan's face. A deep rage welled up in his eyes and he growled menacingly. Before my very eyes he changed, going from a tall, muscular youth my own age into something truly horrific. He became a towering humanoid creature with baleful yellow eyes and chartreuse skin. Laughing, he grabbed me by the throat and told me that his name wasn't Dylan, but Aeshma Daeva, Master of Demons and one of the greatest of the Djinn. He raised me to his face, stretching his fang-filled jaws and inhaling my scent. I almost pissed myself, I was so scared. I cried for my mother and father, begging them to come help but Dylan/Aeshma Daeva told me they couldn't help me. For they weren't home.

The creature told me nothing could save me from him, and I asked him why he picked me. Laughing, Aeshma Daeva threw me to the floor and told me that in ancient times, men and women born with The Sight traveled the world, and fought against the forces of darkness. I perked up involuntarily, for the Monster just confirmed what I hoped for but could never voice out loud. There were others like me out there. I hunt them and destroy them or corrupt them, Aeshma Daeva told me. Not me, I said defiantly, and he seemed surprised by my tone. I rose up, Koran in hand, and shoved the holy book in Aeshma Daeva's face. The Djinn howled when the book touched his face, and I watched, amazed, as his face burned. Recoiling in fear, Aeshma Daeva stared at me, a look of anguish and pain on his face. Smiling, I hurled the book at him and he vanished in a cloud of smoke, swearing revenge.

That's how I banished Dylan/Aeshma Daeva the first time, but I knew that someday, he'd come back. I resolved to resume a normal life, ignoring the Monsters and all that, focusing on school and other things. I finished high school, and started college. While attending Algonquin College, I met a gorgeous young woman named Beatrice Alfonse. Tall, dark-skinned, curvy and as they say down south, mighty fine with a heart-shaped booty. Now, Beatrice and I came from different worlds. She's Christian and I'm Muslim. I've never gotten along with a lot of women from my faith because they're too conservative and button-down for my liking. Hijab girls who won't shake your hand or go to the movies with you act surprised when you date women of other faiths. As if. Beatrice is from a Haitian background and was hesitant about dating a Somali guy but I assured her that I'm not like the others. I don't believe in men controlling women in the name of religion, or disgusting practices like female circumcision ( the bread and butter of many African, Arabian and south Asian Muslims ). I don't think women should have to walk around shrouded simply because men can't control themselves so the burka isn't something I agree with. Hijabs are okay, I guess, but only if the female in question wants to wear it. If she doesn't, nobody should force her. I also don't agree with the habit that some Muslims have of persecuting gays and lesbians along with those who follow other religions. I meant those things when I said them to Beatrice, by the way. I love Allah but a lot of the things that my fellow Muslims do in His name, I honestly don't agree with.

Anyhow, Beatrice and I began seeing each other and she was a breath of fresh air in my otherwise dreary existence. We have a passionate, wondrous relationship. Beatrice is the first woman I've ever had sex with and I delight in the experience every time. What we share is simply magical. With Beatrice by my side, I began to feel truly like a man of the world. I felt like I could do anything. This gal wasn't just fine as hell and great company, she was also smart and ambitious. At the time we met, she was studying civil engineering at the University of Ottawa. When I graduated from Algonquin College with my Accounting degree, she encouraged me to look for work in banking. I didn't see a lot of black folks working in banks within Ottawa but hell, I decided to give it a shot. I sent my resume to the Royal Bank of Canada, Toronto Dominion Bank, the Canadian Imperial Bank of Commerce, Bank of Montreal, and a few others. The only one who called me back was RBC. I went for the job interview wearing a suit and tie, and I actually got the job. How about that?

The first time I got paid by RBC as an account manager, I took Beatrice out to celebrate. We went to dinner at Red Lobster in the east end, and there, I proposed to her. I'm happy to say that my lady said yes. Finally, I had my life on track. I had my college degree, my perfect ( for now ) job, and the love of a good Black woman who cherished me and believe in me. What more could a brother want? I thanked Allah for His blessings. Of course, my former lover/nemesis Dylan the rogue/Aeshma Daeva chose that time to return. And he wasn't alone.

In the underworld out there, demons, vampires, werewolves, monsters and other nonhumans interact with one another. If there is one thing they fear it's the Seers, as they call those with The Sight. In ancient times, people like me hunted down nonhumans. Now, with our numbers dwindling, they're hunting us. Aeshma Daeva was back, in his guise as Dylan, and he brought with him a veritable rogue's gallery of other nonhumans whose path I crossed. With him he brought a burly white guy with reddish hair and a tall, athletic Black woman named Rosa, whom I recognized as the vampire who killed my cousin Kader. They confronted me in my own living room when I got home from work after finding the note Dylan sent everyone at my job, just to fuck with me.

I stood there, facing them, with my Koran in hand. I invoked the name of the One True God, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. The God of Adam and Eve, Aaron and Moses, and the one who sent to mankind the holy messenger Jesus Christ ( peace be upon him ), known in Islam as Isa Al Masih. Allah, Yahweh, The Most High, Father God, please grant me strength as I confront my enemies. The fearsome trio before me looked at me, mockery in their baleful eyes. Dylan snapped his fingers, and a fourth person joined us. My eyes widened when I saw who it was. Beatrice Alfonse. The love of my life.

Beatrice Alfonse looked at me, smiled and went up to Dylan, giving him a big kiss on the lips. If lightning had struck me, I wouldn't have been more shocked. Dylan laughed, and flashed me that fearless smile I knew all too well. I stared at the two of them, confused. What was Beatrice doing with him? Could she be in league with him? The woman I loved? No way! Beatrice looked at me, and before my very eyes her whole appearance shifted, her skin turned bright blue, her eyes turned yellow and her mouth filled with curving fangs. The pretty fingernails with which she raked my back as we made love turned into wicked-looking claws. My heart sank as I realized that she was one of them. One of the Djinn, the evil spirits that God's angels constantly battle in the war between good and evil. The woman I love was a Monster. The past year, the most exciting time of my life, had been a lie.

I looked at Beatrice, and asked her what she was. Smirking, she told me she was Lilitu, wife of Aeshma Daeva, the Lord of the Demons. Damn, so I've gotten fucked by both the King and Queen of all Demons. I've got to be the unluckiest bisexual on the face of the Earth! In spite of the precarious situation I found myself in, I couldn't help laughing. Oh come on, that shit's funny! Beatrice/Lilitu and Dylan/Aeshma Daeva looked at me, then at each other. Apparently, even Demons could be surprised. I looked at them, as they all shed their human guises and advanced on me, nightmarish shapes eager to rend and destroy, and I laughed. I was still laughing when they fell upon me. As they began tearing me apart and feasting on me, it occured to me that as a Seer, I should have seen through Beatrice/Lilitu's disguise but I didn't because I was blinded by love. Every man's weakness is a woman, no matter how strong he is, so goes the old adage. May the Most High receive my soul in His loving embrace.

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