The Broken Contract

An army of gigantic large mutant red fire ants descended upon the city. In the air, a swarm of huge wasps swooped down to fly above them. Riding on the lead wasp was a man in a white robe with flowing white hair and matching beard. The Gods were angry.

“Oh shit.” Police Chief Buzz Sanders dropped his sandwich mid-bite. He picked up the phone and called the president. “Look out the window.”

“I thought they’d deserted us years ago.”

The president hung up and watched the insects make their way to his office. There was no time to get to the emergency spaceship and on its best day there was going to be no way it could outrun those wide wasp wings.

“Come out, you deceitful bastard,” Apollo demanded. The president walked onto the balcony, his head bowed. No one looked into Apollos’ eyes.

“Hey, hey! Look who it isn’t!” the president joshed.

“You lied to us. You said that if we gave you another planet to live on, you would take better care of it. Is this what you call better?” Apollo asked, as he motioned to the smog-filled hazy skies, polluted waters, and littered streets.

“Yeah, about that. We tried it out and didn’t have any of the things we wanted when we were on Earth,” the president said. “You can’t blame us for wanting what we once had.”

Apollo snorted. “I guess you have forgotten the bit about what will happen if you screw it up again.”

The gentle whirring noise of the military-grade drones were drowned out by the sound of the wasps’ wings. The president smiled smugly as he replied,“Something fire and brimstone-like if I recall.”

The president gave a quick nod and the drones fired on the insects. Apollo glared at the president for several seconds then with a flourish of his hand, the drones were incapacitated and fell to the ground around the feet of the fire ants.

“You ungrateful nit,” Apollo said as his face hardened. “Look into my eyes, Mr. President.”

“I’ll pass, thank you though.”

“Look at me,” Apollo demanded as he put his hand out and lifted the president’s head up. The president tried to look anywhere but into Apollo’s eyes. The intensity of the stare from Apollo was too much and their eyes met.

The wrath of Apollo stretched across the span between them and flowed into the president’s body, causing his insides to melt. Apollo allowed the shell of the president’s body to fall to the floor. A loud gasp went up from the people watching from below.

“End it,” Apollo called out to the insects then rode the wasp back to his spaceship without looking back. Behind him the insects attacked the humans, killing them and destroying everything that had been built.

Inside the spaceship, Apollo gathered with other members of the Council of Gods. “Always a disappointment when they cannot keep their promise,” Apollo commented.

“At least they didn’t take eons to screw it up this time,” said Zeus. “Let’s get out of here. We have a surprise birthday party for Eros to attend. We can clean up this mess later.”

Apollo watched the destruction out of the window as they prepared to take off. “Hopefully the next batch will be less greedy,” he said to his sister, Artemis.

“Indeed,” she replied, then headed to her suite to get ready for the party.

Peaceful Dreaming

“Are you sure?” Dr. Roh’tul asked.

Superman’s eyes were dull, he was a shell of himself. “I keep having dreams that I’m finally free from this curse. I want to be … normal. I don’t want this life.”

“The operation isn’t guaranteed to work, and you could suffer permanent damage,” the doctor continued, his face stone cold. “You might not survive.”

“I need to do it.” Superman had tears in his eyes when he looked up at the doctor. “You have no idea what it is like not having any time to yourself. At the beck and call of everyone in Metropolis. There’s no rest.”

“We’ll have to run some tests then we can schedule the surgery. We’ll be in touch.”

Superman shook the doctor’s hand then his head drooped. He sighed as he heard a distant cry for help and flew away, missing the doctor’s devious grin.

Seven weeks later, the testing was complete and the surgery was scheduled.

“Are you sure you still want to do this?” Dr. Roh’tul queried.

Superman nodded his head.

“I’ll see you again after the surgery,” Dr. Roh’tul said.

The anesthesiologist placed the oxygen mask in place. “I’m going to count backwards from five,” she said. “Five, four, three, two … he’s ready, Lex.”

“Excellent.”

Dr. Roh’tul looked down at his nemesis. “I almost feel guilty,” he said then laughed maniacally as he inserted a vial of liquefied kryptonite into the muscular arm. The superhero’s body convulsed and his body shrunk.

The weakened man smiled and his face softened. “He’s dreaming,” the anesthesiologist commented.

“Get the ambulance ready. It’s time for his trip to the asylum. Goodbye, my dearest foe.”

The next day the headlines read, “Superman defeated; Luther to rule the world,” and the world mourned while Superman lived in peaceful dreams.