0 comments/ 2748 views/ 1 favorites Ethiopian Superhero In Israel By: Samuelx A lot of people think of Israel as a solitary outpost of Western-style democracy in the Middle East. What they don't know is that Israel is one of the most racist places on the planet Earth. Never mind the clashes between Palestinian nationalists and Israeli Defense soldiers, an unspoken and unacknowledged war is being waged upon people of African descent in the State of Israel by the Knesset and it never makes headlines. My name is Abraham Baruch and I'm a young man of Ethiopian and Filipino descent living in the City of Tel Aviv, Israel. I was born in this very town to Elias Baruch, an Ethiopian Jewish father who did Aliyah from Durame, southern Ethiopia in his youth, and a Filipino Christian mother, Richa Aquino, who moved to the State of Israel as a refugee after years of indentured servitude in the City of Dammam, Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. Yeah, from the get go, I seemed destined to lead a complex life. I recently returned to Tel Aviv after three years spent in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. I acquired a bachelor's degree in business administration from Carleton University and now I'm working on getting my Master's degree in business at Tel Aviv University. I love Canada and studying abroad but it's too damn expensive for my liking. Besides, a part of me missed home, even though there are certain things about Israel that rankle me, both as an Israeli Jewish citizen and as a human being. Earlier, while walking out of my folks house in Ramat, one of the most prestigious neighborhoods in metropolitan Tel Aviv, I got dirty looks from a pair of policemen. Apparently, this isn't the sort of neighborhood where they'd expect to see someone like me casually strolling down the street. Lucky for me, all they did was stare disapprovingly before driving off. I shook my head in disgust as I watched them go. Why is that, you may ask? I'm six-foot-three, lean and athletic, with golden brown skin, thick sideburns and a puffy afro. My features are a rugged ( and dare I say handsome ) blend of East African and Asian, thanks to my rather unique parentage. I do have Black blood in me and it always shows, no matter what. Wouldn't have it any other way. "Bram, stop daydreaming and pass me the Pepsi," my girlfriend Amina Zahoud says, snapping me out of my reverie. We're at Gelila's Corner, a Falasha restaurant located near the University of Tel Aviv campus. At this hour of the day, it's packed with people. I like Gelila's because it's full of clients from all over. Israeli Jews, Arab Christians, Arab Israeli Muslims, even a few Africans along with Ethiopian Jews, the majority of the restaurant's patronage. I nod at Amina, and smile as I hand her the bottle of Pop. Amina rolls her lovely golden brown eyes, sighs and takes a sip of Pepsi, to which I've carefully added three shots of bourbon thanks to my trusty flask, which is always on me. I look at Amina as she gulps it all down, and smile. My lady does like her liquor. Standing five feet ten inches tall and quite curvy, Amina is exotically beautiful, with her dark bronze skin, long and curly black hair and hypnotic emerald eyes. The lady is half Moroccan and half Lebanese, born and raised in Jerusalem. Amina's family is Muslim, but she considers herself Agnostic, whatever that means. "Careful not to get drunk my dear," I say, shaking my head while gently laying my hand on Amina's. Defiantly Amina bats my hand away, and doesn't set down the bottle until it's empty. When she's done, Amina burps loudly and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. Classy woman, isn't she? "I'm Arab, honey, and we can hold our damn liquor," Amina snaps, and a waitress passing nearby shoots her a look of disapproval. I wonder if Amina is going to get up and get in the waitress's face. Amina likes to cause a scene. Sometimes it's fun to watch. I remember that time she got into a catfight at school. Campus police had to get involved, and one of them ended up with a black eye. As Amina's father, Ibrahim Zahoud, is a wealthy Israeli Arab politician and prominent businessman, the matter was dropped. This time, though, Amina ignores the waitress and focuses her lovely eyes on me. "Bram, you haven't been the same since you got back from Ottawa," Amina says, licking her full lips, a gesture I found distracting. If only you knew, I thought darkly, while something in me stirs. Amina crosses her shapely legs, and I can feel myself harden. Only what I feel isn't mere desire. The dark hunger rises within me, and I will myself to be calm. "A lot happened while I was in Ottawa," I say wistfully, and in spite of myself, powerful memories drag me into the not so distant past, a time in my life I'd rather forget. In the summer of 2011, as a wide-eyed twenty-year-old, I decided to study in Canada after completing the mandatory two-year training that all Israeli Jewish citizens must do. It's a rite of passage for us. Any Israeli Jew must be ready to fight to defend the homeland at a moment's notice. I served in the Israeli Defense Forces, entering the military as an idealistic youth and then exiting it two years later as a battle-scarred and embittered young man. What happened? A change came over me, not due to the horrors of war, but something else entirely. The way Israeli Jewish soldiers of European descent treated me, as a young man of partial African descent, was worse than anything the Palestinians who hate us could have done to me. I got called the N-word, and had horrible racist epithets scribbled on my belongings. I was told to "go back to Africa" by a racist captain, Lionel Rosenthal, and when I told this American-born Jew to go to Hell, I actually got punished for it. The IDF is no place for an Ethiopian Jewish man, for they seem to hate us even more than they hate the Arabs. After two years in the Israeli military, I'd grown so disgusted with my countrymen that I opted to study in Canada, at the Israeli government's expense, of course. Anything to get out of Israel. "Israel hates and fears the Black man far more than the Arabs," my Pop was fond of telling me, while recounting incidents of racism from his youth. My father, Elias Baruch, moved to Israel from Ethiopia as a young man. Like me, he served in the IDF and grew disgusted with Israeli politics and the hidden but ever-present racism that all people of African descent living in Israel face daily. I went to Ottawa, Ontario, to study and explore the world outside Israel. What I found was more than I bargained for. While on the Carleton University campus, I met an old man named Arthur Sunukkukau, a professor of sociology at the school and a rather prominent member of the Algonquin people of Ontario. I took a sociology course because I needed an easy elective, and the old man and I bonded. For we were both outsiders on this very diverse yet at times covertly hostile university campus. Canadians are a friendly bunch usually, but as any Native will tell you, polite racism is still racism. Just because you're seemingly accepted doesn't mean you truly belong. As a dark-skinned young man with a foreign accent at Carleton University, I definitely ran into my share of oddballs who didn't care for me in the least. "Watch your back around these people my young friend," Professor Sunukkukau said to me as we sat in his office, having sandwiches. I nodded and smiled, feeling a strange kinship with this wise old man. It's weird, eh? A biracial man from Israel and a Native man from northern Ontario bonding on a Canadian university campus. I supposed stranger things have happened. Little did I know that Fate had much stranger things in store for little old me.... For the remainder of my time at Carleton University, I was Professor Sunukkukau's good friend, and he was my mentor and benefactor. I was fond of the old man, for I hadn't made a lot of friends at my new school. Carleton is diverse, full of students from Africa, the Arab world, South Asian nations and even a few Latin Americans and Caribbean people. In this diverse world, as the unlikely son of an Ethiopian Jewish father and Filipino Christian mother who later embraced Judaism, I stuck out like the proverbial sore thumb. All the Jewish students at school were white, and quite a few were deeply critical of Israel's treatment of Palestinians. I served in the IDF and bear no hatred toward any Palestinian. Nor do I condone everything the Knesset does. However, I do believe that Israel has a right to exist. One of the Jewish students, a blonde-haired gal named Sharon Rosenberg, clashed with me when I brought up the issue of the forced sterilization of Ethiopian Jewish women through use of Depo Provera by the Israeli government. "You need to stop talking about that shit," Sharon said to me one time, at a meeting for Jewish students at Carleton. I schooled her on how wrong she was and the others in the group didn't care much for me or the inconvenient truth I shared about our Jewish homeland. Palestinians aren't the only people that Israel treats like dirt. We Ethiopian Jews are treated far worse than the Arabs in Israel because the European-descended Israeli Jews seem allergic to our skin tones. Of course, the world doesn't want to hear about that. "I'm leaving this club of bigots," I said, and walked out on the Jewish Students Association of Carleton University. I could feel Sharon's angry eyes on me as I exited the room, never to return. When I shared this with Professor Sunukkukau at his house in Nepean, the old man was quite sympathetic, and lent me an ear as I vented. I went on and on about my frustrations with my new Canadian friends. "You believe in justice and for this you will always clash with those who don't," Professor Sunukkukau said, gently stroking his goateed chin, and I nodded and sighed. I wasn't really listening. My mind raced as I thought about Sharon Rosenberg and the other Canadian students willful blindness when it came to acknowledging Israel's mistreatment of its African-descended citizens while in the same breath, they bitched and moaned about the rights of Palestinians. "The world cares about everything except what happens to people of African descent," I said sadly, shaking my head. Professor Sunukkukau looked at me and smiled faintly, then I finally sat down. I'd been pacing up and down his small living room for a while and finally felt tired, I guess. "What if I could give you the power to do something about it?" Professor Sunukkukau said, looking at me with those penetrating eyes of his. I crossed my arms and looked at him. For a moment, something unexpected and dare I say dangerous flickered in his eyes, and I swear, they changed color, from dull brown to bright yellow. "What do you mean by that?" I said, a strange calm coming over me even as I noticed a shift not only in Professor Sunukkukau's demeanor, but his whole appearance. The professor isn't a large man. He's about five-foot-eight, and maybe two hundred pounds, with dark bronze skin, brown eyes and long black hair streaked with gray, always tied in a ponytail. "The power that only I can give you," Professor Sunukkukau said, smiling wickedly. He fixed his yellow-eyed gaze on me and for some reason, I did not flinch. I knew that something strange was happening but I wasn't frightened or anything. If anything, I was fascinated. I've always been strange that way. People tend to react with shock and fright in certain situations. I tend to stay calm. My mother always thought my lack of emotional response was due to something being wrong with me. I always dismissed such statements. I am only me, I guess. "Tell me more about this power," I said, nodding at the Professor, whose broad grin threatened to split his rugged, weathered face in half. Leaning back in his chair, his voice noticeably deeper than before, the old man smiled and entwined his fingers, flexing them before gripping the arms of his chair. I could tell that my reaction pleased Professor Sunukkukau. "The power of the Wendigo is an awesome thing, " Professor Sunukkukau said, and then he threw his head back and laughed. Moments later, a startling change came over him. The average-sized, mild-mannered Native man in the tacky old gray business suit morphed into a towering, gray-furred, muscular, man-like yet undeniably inhuman monster with bright yellow eyes, sharp claws and fangs. Roaring, the monster howled and came for me. What happened after is a blur, but I remember that I did not scream. When I awoke to consciousness, I was...changed. "Welcome to a new world my son," Professor Sunukkukau said gently, standing over me. I rose to my feet, a dark anger rising within me as I remembered what he'd done...what he'd become, right there in his living room. "What did you do to me?" I asked, looking at him. Professor Sunukkukau smiled and gently laid his hand on my arm. When he touched my bare skin, images flashed through my head. I saw the Prof's monstrous alter ego running through the woods, chasing after a pair of young men, white guys with the look of Oilmen about them. The monster found them and devoured them. "You devoured these miners," I said, glaring at Professor Sunukkukau in shock, and the old man smiled and nodded. He licked his lips with a tongue far longer and more prehensile than any normal guy's tongue could ever be, and this time, his smile showed a mouth full of curving white fangs. Shrugging, he casually admitted to what he'd done. "Two Oilmen who ventured near my ancient domain in Alberta three days ago paid the ultimate price," Professor Sunukkukau said, grinning. He told me that he thoroughly enjoyed the kill and that these two Oil guys proved to be quite tasty. When he spoke, with a kind of near rapture in his voice, I swear he was reliving the experience. In fact, I knew he was. For some reason, this didn't disturb, disgust or shock me. Hell, I felt envious. "I'm so damn hungry," I said, and Professor Sunukkukau nodded, and took me to his kitchen. He showed me a fridge full of deer meat. I sniffed it and smiled with contentment. I pick up a piece of meat the size of my fist, and eat it. It tastes wonderful. I eat another, then another. Raw meat now tastes delicious to me, and most normal foods taste like cardboard. My system has changed. I am no longer human. "I have much to teach you, " the Professor said, and he grabbed a deer leg, ripped it apart with his sharp teeth, and bit into it. We ate in silence, two predators dining in a suburban house in Nepean. Not far from the university campus where we met. My world changed that night, but come to think of it, I embraced the change more willingly than most people would have. Professor Sunukkukau warned me that only certain people had it in them to become Wendigo. "Those who lack remorse," the old said simply, and I smiled knowingly. My whole life I'd been different from most people. I've always been bold and impulsive, fearless, and utterly unconcerned about the consequences of my actions or their effect on other people. More than once my dear old mum called me a sociopath. Come to think of it, I was a problematic youth but I've since learned to control myself and channel my dark urges into beneficial outlets. That's why I'm a business student. Profit is a remarkable, emotionless and straightforward goal, wouldn't you see? I finished my meal, and looked upon Professor Sunukkukau, now my instructor in more ways than one. "I've been alive for six hundred years and might live a thousand more thanks to the old Wendigo who shared his blood with me as I did with you," Professor Sunukkukau said to me. We stood on a hilltop, in the woods of northern Ontario, separated from the nearest human being by more than thirty miles. All around us, nothing but trees and animals, nature at its finest. "Let us hunt," I said, and the Professor nodded in agreement. Morphing out of our human visages and into our superhuman forms, we loped along in the forest, moving faster than the human eye could see. Something truly glorious comes over me when I'm transformed. I love becoming something stronger and faster, wild and free, powerful and dangerous, but also, strangely enough, utterly at peace. That night, the Prof and I hunted deer, and tore apart a large buck, feasting upon its flesh by the pale moonlight. Afterwards, we resumed our human forms, and lay side by side, naked and covered in deer blood and gore. "I love being a Wendigo," I said to Sunukkukau, who nodded in agreement. He looked at me with lust in his eyes, and I grinned wolfishly. Moments later, the Prof and I were going at it. I lay on the soft grass as Sunukkukau got between my legs, and grabbed my long and thick, dark cock. "Nice," the old man said, then began sucking my dick with gusto. I lay there and relaxed as this ancient and nearly immortal inhuman entity and fellow switch-hitter sucked my dick until I came, then drank my masculine seed. "Wonderful," Sunukkukau said, smiling as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand after drinking my cum. Feeling aggressive, I grabbed him and put him on all fours. Spreading Sunukkukau's butt cheeks wide open, I inserted my hard dick in his asshole. Gripping his hips tightly, I began to fuck him. The old Native man groaned sharply as I rammed my dick up his ass. I love the feel of a tight asshole on my dick. Hard and fast I pumped into him, our howls of pleasure echoing in the night as we fucked passionately. Morning found us stark naked, soaked in blood and cum. "You're a magnificent Wendigo my pupil," Professor Sunukkukau said, and kissed me on the lips. Grinning, I returned his kiss, then gathered my clothes before putting them back on. Sunukkukau parked his Toyota near the woods, and we had to walk two hours before we found it. After running on all fours as a primordial immortal beast, I hated moving slowly like a human. In our Wendigo forms, we're superhumanly strong and fast, able to regenerate, and we cannot die naturally. We stop aging the moment we become Wendigo and we are immune to all diseases and toxins. However, in human form, we're as vulnerable as anyone else. And just as slow. I revelled in my new state. Professor Sunukkukau taught me much about it. We were good friends and lovers throughout my stay at Carleton University. We hunted together, fucked together and had a lot of fun. Then I graduated and returned to Tel Aviv, Israel. I do miss those halcyon days in Ontario, though. "Stop daydreaming," Amina's sharp voice shrieks, snapping me out of my blood-soaked and lustful reverie. I look at her, my gorgeous Arab Israeli girlfriend, and for a moment, I say nothing. Instead, I give Amina Zahoud a smile a shark would recognize. The predator's smile. Amina stares at me, and the intensity goes out of her gaze. Even in human form, when I look at people, they have trouble holding my gaze. Is it because I'm a sociopath who once started fires in my parents basement for kicks as a youth, smoked and fucked around a lot? Or is it because I'm the latest member of the Wendigo species, a race of nearly immortal, inhuman creatures that have existed among the Native peoples of North America since time immemorial? Whatever it is, it's working. Amina smiles and entwines her fingers with mine. "Let's leave this bogus place," she says, and with my superhuman senses I detect a change in her body chemistry. When a woman is horny, she releases a faint pheromone-like scent that human males can't perceive because they're so dull and limited. Fortunately for me, I'm not a human male. Amina is in heat, practically, and needs to be fucked. This looks like a job for me. We're about to leave the restaurant together when I overhear an off-duty member of the Tel Aviv District Police say something quite interesting to his colleague. "Three of my men's bodies have been found and I honestly don't think the Palestinians did this, it looks like the work of an animal," the man all but shrieks, his nervousness adding a wonderful lilt to his voice. Ethiopian Superhero In Israel "Victor, listen my dear brohim, no animals escaped from the zoo and we don't have lions and panthers like they do in Africa so who else could it be?" the policeman's colleague, a middle-aged brunette with bronze skin and blue eyes, says while sipping her Ethiopian-style Hydromel. I look at the two of them and smile while exiting the busy restaurant with my hand on Amina's ass. Once we get home, Amina and I get naked, and I give her the business, as they say. I've got my favorite Arab Israeli slut on all fours, face down and big round ass up, and I slam my dick into her cunt. "Go slow," Amina purrs, as I slide my dick into her pussy. Gripping her hips tightly, I fuck her with gusto. Amina is a mouthy gal and she's insanely proud and arrogant, with very little to justify it. Unless you count her family's wealth and power, of course. "I thought you liked it rough," I say as I pull Amina's long hair, curl it in my fist and yank her pretty head back while slamming my dick into her pussy. Amina looks back at me, and I see something like wonder and concern mixed with lust on her beautiful face. Nodding, Amina licks her lips as I continue fucking her. I hammer her pussy into submission, until a sweaty, moaning Amina begs for mercy, after I made her cum at least twice. "You're different since you got back from Canada," Amina says, resting her head against my hairy chest as we lie in bed together. I light up a cigarette, and ignore her for a moment. I don't like to talk after sex. The girls and guys I take to bed tend to be the talkative type, unfortunately. I guess it's true what they say. Opposites do attract. Fuck. "A lot happened to me in Canada," I say, after a long moment, knowing that if I don't say something, Amina will keep talking. Sighing, Amina shakes her head, and then unexpectedly she puts her arms around me and kisses me. I wasn't expecting that, not that I mind. I run my hands all over Amina's curvy body. I grip her big, round Arabian ass and squeeze it, for I'm definitely ready for another round. "Stop that," Amina says, and grabs my hands. I look at her and flash the kind of smile I give people when they annoy me with their stupidity. I wasn't the most patient guy to begin with but ever since Professor Sunukkukau used his magical blood to transform me into a Wendigo, I've become even more impatient. Whatever I want, I want immediately. It's getting increasingly difficult for me to restrain myself. "Don't pull away from me sweetie," Amina says, holding my face in her hands. I look at her, this lovely young Arab Israeli woman who professors to care for me. I wonder what she'd say if she knew that I wasn't who or what she thought I was. I'm a monster, babe, can you handle it? I almost say. Instead I continue to smile and peek at Amina's big tits. Damn, now that's a rack to write home about. "You wouldn't believe some of the things I've done and gone through these past few months," I say, shrugging casually while Amina gives the annoyed look that chicks give men when they think we're bullshitting them. For once in my existence I'm being honest with this broad, and she thinks I'm bluffing. "Stop being vague," Amina snaps, and she takes a deep breath before continuing. I can feel a long speech coming on. It's too late for me to escape. "I love you, Bram, and I want us to be together. I don't give a fuck if you're Black and I'm Arab. I don't give a fuck if you're Jewish and I was raised Muslim. A man has to open up to his woman." When Amina finishes her little spiel, I smile. That was quite convincing. Except I've never been the type to kiss and tell. Amina's got her tits dangerously close to my face and having her curvy body pressing against mine is having all kinds of effect on me. I'm feeling both horny AND hungry. Since Amina won't help me with the former and I don't want to subject her to the latter, I need to get rid of her. "Amina, babe, you know I care about you but there are certain things about me you just don't understand," I say, and move her off me as gently as I can. I don't know why but I think I actually give a damn about this chick. Amina has always been edgy, sexy and dangerous, and I like that in a woman. Lately, though, she's been less about sexing than about jawing, and that is totally uncool. Amina rolls her eyes, and wraps her arms around my torso as I try to leave the bed. It's nearly nighttime, and I need to get going. "I know you're bisexual and I don't care," Amina says, and I turn around, gawking at her. I've always been the carefree type but one of my biggest secrets is the fact that I swing both ways. My parents are Orthodox Jews. Trust me, they just won't understand. "You're awesome babe and I love you," I say, kissing Amina on the lips. I grab my clothes and exit my house right as it starts to get dark. I don't know what it's like for Werewolves, what Professor Sunukkukau called Skin Walkers, but as a Wendigo, the need to hunt and feed on live meat is all-consuming once darkness falls, and I could no more stop myself than the sun could refuse to rise. A few minutes later, I'm transformed into my Wendigo self, leaping from rooftop to rooftop in the night. I leave the plush suburb of Ramat Aviv, and head for the slums. The south of Tel Aviv is full of illegal immigrants, mostly Africans and a few Palestinians and Asians, and the police have repeatedly cracked down on them. They treat them like animals, I swear. I don't have long to wait before I find what I'm looking for. A Tel Aviv District Police car pulls up to a darkened street in the south, where an old Black guy is leaning against the wall, smoking his pipe. " What the fuck are you doing here, kafir?" one of the police officers, a brown-haired, pale-skinned and blue-eyed female demands in Hebrew. The old Black man replies in Arabic, which does not placate his tormentors. "Kafir comes to Israel and doesn't even bother learning the language of its people," the male officer, a darker-haired, fair-skinned and green-eyed male demands, while shoving the old Black guy against the wall. The old man drops his pipe. The female officer stomps on it and laughs as the old man shakes his head mournfully. The street, which was full of transients a moment ago is now empty. No one is coming to this old man's aid. "It's show time," I say to myself as I leap from the rooftop and land soundlessly on the street below. With speed greater than anything human, I move toward my prey. They've both got their backs turned. The fools are totally going to get it. I'm almost salivating with anticipation. Two racist cops are about to become mince meat and they don't even know it, I smile. Something blurs past me, and for the first time in ages, I am actually surprised. A dark shape, moving impossibly fast, moves toward the two cops. Swiftly it strikes them, and they're down before I can get to them. The creature slashes at them with its claws and rends them with its fangs. The whole thing took perhaps five seconds, perhaps less. For a moment, as the creature turns, its eyes meet mine. I see something old and powerful looking at me through its baleful red eyes. Then it vanishes. Utterly. I feel scared for the first time since Professor Sunukkukau transformed me into a Wendigo. I return to the rooftops, and watch as the old man scrambles away. Later, a second police car comes, and the cops are shocked to see two of their own downed, torn to pieces, as if by some kind of predatory animal. Who or what could have done this? The same question plagues me. I return to Ramat Aviv, shape-shift from Wendigo to human form, having decided to call it a night. I am shocked to find Amina still in my bed. "Hello lover, had a busy night?" Amina says, smiling wickedly. I stare at her, and before I can think of something clever to say, Amina's eyes flash crimson. I feel a chill down my spine. Fear and dread the likes of which I'd never known creep through me. "Amina, what are you?" I ask, willing myself to be calm. I'd never felt anything like this before, not even when Professor Sunukkukau shape-shifted from man to Wendigo right in front of me before making me one of them. I look at Amina, and for a moment, her curvy, bronze-skinned body turned bright blue, then became totally transparent. I see something dark inside, blacker than black, inhabiting her seemingly human body. "I could ask you the same thing lover," Amina says, smiling while licking her lips with a forked tongue. Yup, my girlfriend has a forked tongue. I try to remain as calm as I can. Understand that even after everything that I've been through, I'm still more human than not. I might have the power to become a superhuman creature at will, but I was still freaked out by my girlfriend having a damn forked tongue, alright? Fuck! "I'm a Wendigo," I said calmly, looking into Amina's crimson eyes, which blazed with intelligence and uncanny malice. I took a deep breath, then continued. "I told you what I am. Now it's your turn. What are you?" I demanded, refusing to give into the fear I felt growing inside. It really freaked me out that Amina or whatever she truly was seemed capable of triggering this much fear in me. "I am Amina of the Marid, the most powerful of the Djinn," Amina said sweetly, licking her lips, and this time her tongue, which had polished my dick so many times, looked normal. I nodded, as if any of this made sense to me. Even though I'm a supernatural being these days, my knowledge of supernatural entities remains limited at best. "We have much to talk about," Amina said, gently touching the bed upon which we made love or fucked or whatever just hours ago, and in spite of myself, I sat down next to her. I've never been one to give into fear. Ruthlessness, fearlessness and determination are essential parts of whatever makes me who and what I am. Whatever Amina is, I silently swore to myself that she wouldn't intimidate me. "I've been around for thousands upon thousands of years and once made war against Angels from the Kingdom of Heaven itself besides my former leader Iblis but today, with most of my kind banished to the Otherworld since the days of King Solomon, I just do what I can to protect innocent people from those in power in the Holy Land," Amina said, shrugging with a resigned look upon her beautiful face. I looked at Amina and smiled, for reading people's, and other beings unique weaknesses is a trademark of this cheerfully sociopathic monster-in-training. Professor Sunukkukau, the ageless Wendigo, was drawn to my youthful passion and fearlessness, that's why the old coot granted me immortality, along with superhuman strength, regeneration, enhanced speed and shape-shifting powers. Powers I reveled in. I sensed that Amina the Djinn was much older than Professor Sunukkukau and far lonelier than he might have been, for he spoke to me of an entire society of Wendigo people living among us, while Amina referred to her kind being banished someplace far away by some Biblical king. I knew exactly how to get her. "You're not alone in your fight," I said, and gently put my arm around Amina. Whatever she is, the lady found my gesture touching, and smiled with gratitude. Gotcha bitch, I thought, and smiled as beatifically as I could. Taking Amina's hand in mine, I brought it to my lips and kissed it. Amina giggled as girlishly and as normally as any woman ever born. "When you saw me in the south earlier, I was there to protect the immigrants from Israeli police racism and brutality," I said, and Amina's happy and grateful grin was quite satisfying to me, for I was telling her the truth for a change. I am no fan of the Israeli government and abhor the way it treats people of color, especially Africans. "Looks like we're kindred spirits," Amina said, practically purring with happiness. I pulled her into his arms and kissed her full and deep. I felt a tingle at the back of my throat as her forked tongue played tonsil hockey with mine. Even though I wanted her badly, I sensed that the time had not yet come for that. So I halted the kisses, and Amina looked at me, surprise on her beautiful face. "Amina, I cherish you and want you, but I truly want you to know who I am," I said, and my gorgeous Arab Israeli girlfriend/She-Demon looked at me pensively, then nodded. Taking her lovely hands in mine, I squeezed them gently and then told her about my time in Ottawa, my relations with Professor Sunukkukau, and my life since I became a Wendigo. "You're not alone anymore my love," Amina said, and the lady grabbed me with a strength greater than my own and started kissing me passionately. I smiled contentedly as Amina got on top of me, for I felt rising deep within me a different kind of hunger. Damn it, I'm horny. Eagerly I cupped Amina's big and round, fine Arabian ass cheeks in my hands. "Fuck me silly and don't hold back," Amina said, and I was happy to oblige. With inhuman strength I rolled on top of her, savagely biting her shoulder while slamming my hard dick into her pussy. Amina wrapped her legs around my waist, pressing me against her, her legs gripping me like steel. Damn it, this gal is strong and fiery. I like that in a woman. Hard and fast I pumped into her, loving the feel of her hot, tight pussy around my dick. For hours we went at it, until, even our superhuman bodies demanded a time-out. "I still want more," Amina said, rolling her lovely emerald eyes while pouting. I groaned as she stroked my dick, then leaned down and began sucking me off, flicking her inhumanly long, forked tongue over my thick dark dick. Shit, that turned me on like you would not believe. Moments later, I was ready to roll. This time, though, Amina had something else in mind. The sexy Arab goddess got on all fours, and shook her big butt at me. Grinning, Amina looked at the bottle of hand lotion on my night stand. I smiled, for I knew just what to do. I smeared the lube all over Amina's puckered asshole as my sweetheart spread her big sexy ass cheeks wide open. "I'm ready for you lover," Amina giggled as I fingered her butt hole before sliding my dick against her backdoor. Gripping her hips tightly, I thrust into her. Up until that point, I had never had the pleasure of fucking a woman in the ass. As a bisexual man who prefers to top, I've fucked a lot of guys in their rear ends but never a woman. The few women I've asked always said no. Well, Amina was definitely not the average woman, that's for sure. "Love your ass sweetie," I said, and I absolutely meant what I said. Amina pressed my big Arabian booty against my groin, driving my dick deeper into her tight, juicy asshole. I loved the pressure and tightness I felt all around my member. I caressed Amina's big sexy ass while fucking it, and playfully smacked her derriere. Damn, her asshole was the tightest I'd ever fucked. Even tighter than Professor Arthur Sunukkukau's, and that's saying a lot, trust me. I decided to try another position, and Amina was all for it. I put my sexy Arab goddess on her back and raised her legs in the air as I resumed fucking her ass. I don't normally do this with my lovers, male or female, but I wanted to look into Amina's eyes while fucking her. "Am I as tight as the guys you've fucked?" Amina shot back, looking at me through crimson eyes. "You're tighter and better babe," I said, and watched as Amina's bronze skin turned bluish, then went translucent. Watching my sexy girlfriend go from human to Djinn, perfectly au naturel, turned me on like you would not believe. With her blue skin, tiny horns, red eyes, forked tongue, claws and fangs, Amina was ethereally beautiful. And her butt was bigger in her Djinn form. I swear Amina's asshole gripped my dick tighter when she assumed her true, natural form. I kissed the toes of her left foot, and Amina grinned, a feral smile full of sharp teeth, and winked at me. "Show me your other form," Amina said, and I hesitated. Understand that I'd never tried that with a lover before. Even when Professor Sunukkukau fucked that night in the woods after hunting deer in Wendigo form, we fucked while in human form. I wasn't sure if Amina could handle it. Fuck it, I thought, and willed the transformation to occur. "Beautiful," Amina said, wrapping her lovely, blue-skinned body around me, embracing me as I went from a tall, brown-skinned biracial male to a towering, muscular, grey-furred entity with yellow eyes, sharp fangs and claws. Howling with pleasure, I rammed my dick up her ass and Amina's shrill screams of pleasure mixed with delicious pain were music to my ears. Much later, after lots of fucking, lovemaking or whatever you want to call it, Amina and I lay on the bed, and for once, I didn't mind cuddling with her. For I was in my true form, my Wendigo form, while a gorgeous, blue-skinned and red-eyed woman rested her horned head against my furry chest. "Love you babe," I said, surprising myself and Amina with that statement. Amina fixed her crimson eyes on me, and smiled, showing a mouthful of curving white fangs. "No need to say it, lover, we just fucked, remember?" she laughed, and I caught her clawed hands in mine, then brought them to my lips. Gently I kissed them. Amina smiled, and said nothing. "Look, Amina, I've got little to no conscience and I'm a troublemaker with a capital T, been one long before I became a Wendigo, but if I could have feelings for anyone, I'd have them for you," I said, and then, I kissed her. Amina kissed me back, her forked tongue entwined with mine. I felt her hands grip my dick, bringing it to life. "Love you too psycho," Amina said, laughing, as she flicked her forked tongue over my hardening and lengthening manhood. I smiled as she began sucking me off. Round three of our lovemaking/fucking sessions of the night followed, and this time, Amina managed to sexually exhaust even a superhuman stud like myself. Female demons are something else, man. Ferocious, powerful and dangerous but amazingly sweet and caring at the same time. Like all women, come to think of it. Glad I got me one. Thus I came to embrace my new life as a Wendigo, ladies and gentlemen. Most members of my species reside in the United States of America, Canada and Mexico, the three places with the largest populations of Natives. I've reconnected with Professor Sunukkukau via LinkedIn and Facebook, and told him about Amina. The old man congratulated me on our recent engagement, and invited me to the Annual Gathering of the W-people, which takes place in New York City, home to over one hundred thousand Native Americans, and ironically, several thousand Wendigos. "Taking your stateside before our wedding," I told a very happy Amina, and with that, we went prowling in the Tel Aviv night, as is our custom. I plan on a LONG engagement, folks. I met Amina's folks, and as it turns out, her father Ibrahim Zahoud is a Djinn too, as is her mother, Mona. I'm happy to say that they were very accepting of me. The Zahoud clan knew what I was even before Amina and I decided to tell them. I don't know why that surprises me. Apparently, there's an entire community of Demons from pre-Islamic Arabian mythology living in places like Israel, Lebanon, Morocco, Syria, and Algeria. Cool. I sat my folks down and revealed to them my Wendigo nature, which they were surprisingly accepting of, but they're not big on the idea of my converting to Islam to marry Amina, whose parents are practicing Muslims, on top of being Demons. Apparently, there are many pious Djinn who believe in Allah, which as you may know, is the Arabic name for Yahweh, the God of the Abrahamic monotheistic faiths. "My son, you may be a Wendigo now, and that's, um, a tough and unique condition to live with, but you cannot seriously consider joining Islam for that broad," my Orthodox Jewish father told me one night as we sipped tea in the family living room while watching a boxing match on TV. Ethiopian Superhero In Israel "Pop, I love Amina and even though she's a Demon, her family and a lot of other Djinn embraced Islam in the early days of the faith as a way of redeeming themselves before God for offending Him in ages past," I said, trying to get my father to understand. I looked into my father's eyes, and smiled. Gently I squeezed his hand, and told him everything was going to be alright. "I hope you know what you're doing," Pop said, and smiled. We hugged, and then I nodded firmly. I'd never been more sure of anything. In a few months I'd have my MBA from the University of Tel Aviv, and I felt pretty confident about the future. The Soafer International MBA is highly ranked and recognized in the United States, the United Kingdom and pretty much everywhere else in the civilized world. Yeah, I intend to make my mark upon this world. As Abraham "Bram" Baruch, the biracial son of an Orthodox Jewish father from Ethiopia and a Filipino mother, born and raised in Tel Aviv, and as the Feral One, as I call my Wendigo alter ego, I intend to shine. And with my gorgeous and powerful lady Amina Zahoud by my side, I think I can do anything. The world is a messy place. Look at the mess that people have done as they clash over questions of race, religion, sexual orientation, ethnicity, nationality and sectarianism. The world should be run by a firmer hand and a strong mind, wouldn't you say? I intend to be that firm hand and strong mind. The way I see it, everything I am and everything that's happened in my existence has been leading up to this. Look at my unusual birth, for example. Just consider it. An Ethiopian Jewish man and a Filipino Christian woman getting together to produce a tall, gorgeous and intelligent son who somehow becomes an ageless, nigh-immortal superhuman creature and THEN realizes that his sexy and seemingly normal Arab Israeli girlfriend is actually one of the Djinn, a race of ancient Immortals that battled Heaven's Angels for the rulership of the planet Earth? Hot damn. Would it be presumptuous of me to say that I was born with glorious purpose? I look at powerful Immortals like Professor Sunukkukau and Amina's parents, Ibrahim and Mona Zahoud, leading mundane lives among the humans, when they could have ruled the world, and I pity them. With their power, wisdom and experience they could have saved mankind from itself by taking the reins of power globally. Look at the problems the world is facing. Widespread terrorism thanks to the West and the Arab world tolerating the existence of Al Qaeda, Al Shabab, and now, those idiots from ISIS. Global warming. The possibly man-made Ebola virus in West Africa. The new mosquito-born virus spreading in Latin America. The rise of domestic terrorism in Europe and North America. Imagine an army of Immortals tackling these problems and saving mankind from itself. Imagine that army led by yours truly. Yes, I finally understand the reason for which I was born. I will enter the corporate world and rise through its ranks, ruthlessly taking out the competition like only a sociopathic genius like myself can, and at the same time, I will use my gorgeous and cheerfully Demonic bride-to-be Amina Zahoud and Professor Arthur Sunukkukau's contacts in the world of the nonhumans to gather an army of supernatural entities of all breeds around myself. I know I'm not the only Immortal out there who burns to rule mankind. The others will join me or be destroyed. I'm sure most will choose to join me. And together, we will rise to conquer the world of man and save humanity from itself. This world won't know what hit it.