Legendary Arts Novellas 1: Mr Eturnal - Origin of the BlackMan by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Urban, Humor, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Humorous, 90 Minutes (44-64 Pages), United States, Fantasy, American, General Humor, African American, Genre Fiction, Humor & Satire, Superheroes, Literature & Fiction
Amazon: B0128RWGZO
Publisher: Legendary Arts
Published: 2015-07-20T04:00:00+00:00

Travis finally made his way through the plants and out onto the pathway, and walked straight into a punch in the gut. For a few seconds, his vision blurred as the pain radiated from his gut, to his back and down to his groin.

“Dude, will you watch where you’re going?” Travis croaked out.

“Sorry sir it’s just I was following--“

“It doesn’t matter, just watch it.” Travis only registered that the voice responding to him was that of a child after he snapped at him. He felt a little badly about it. He opened his eyes and blinked through the tears. When his vision cleared, he saw a young boy standing before him carrying a large box that was full of gadgets. Some of which Travis recalled seeing in science class back in high school while some other objects could as well have fallen off a passing flying saucer.

The little boy had a bowl cut hair-do and huge brown eyes.

“Dear God, what did I do to deserve this?” Travis said as he gazed up at the pink clouds in the sky.

“Hey! Black Man! It’s you!” The boy cried out.

After a day like the one he had, Travis was in no mood to run into the little kid with the mouth that never stopped moving. He was pretty loud and he was drawing the attention of people as they were passing by the two of them. This was way too embarrassing and he was worried that the kid’s mouth may run away with him.

Travis thought, “There are way too many witnesses for me to just shadow jump out of here.”

Travis was very proud of the term he had decided on for his power. He thought the first step to figuring them out was to study the action and tie down specific terms and their definitions. When he was fifteen at Bakersfield High, he had a teacher that informed him that he would never excel in the field of science and his time would be better served in the wood works class.

“Eat your heart out Ms. O’Hara” he mumbled to himself.

“Who is Ms. O’Hara?” The boy said.

“What?”

“Ms. O’Hara. Who is she? What’s she doing with your heart? Do you love her?” The boy continued.

Travis replied, “No one’s in love. She’s not doing anything with my heart. Don’t worry about it.”

“Whose heart does she have then?” The boy dragged on.

Travis stammered, “She doesn’t have anyone’s heart …or at least I don’t know ...Where are your parents?!”

“Oh, they’re back there by the greens.” The boy responded. He paused for a few seconds before continuing. “Where is YOUR family Black Man?”

“Stop calling me that, lil dude.”

“Why?” the boy asked.

“Because … just stop calling me that please. I don’t like it. Call me ‘Shadow Man’ at least or …” Travis’ voice trailed off because he hadn’t actually given much if any thought to assuming an alias.

In his mind, that kind of thing was comic book superhero crap reserved for weirdos who liked to wear tights and strut around wearing a cape.

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