SUPER By Pedro Guerra Jr.

PREFACE

About a year or so ago, I was having a lot of trouble falling asleep. I’ve always had trouble falling asleep, but by this point, everything I had previously tried wasn’t working, not ASMR, White Noise, Brown Noise, Pink Noise, absolutely nothing. I would have to lay in bed, tolerate the noise of my mind until finally, exhaustion would kick in. I was watching a Twitch stream, and the streamer embarrassingly was forced to admit to role-playing to fall asleep by his girlfriend. He would put himself in historical situations and that helped him fall asleep. Initially, I thought it silly, but I was desperate. Since beginning, I’ve roleplayed as a Jedi, a vampire, and other scenarios inspired by the content I was consuming at the time, the role plays were simple and they mainly consisted of “what would I do if I was a….” Until “SUPER”

 CHAPTER 1: GIGNESTHAI

I had a name once. 

I was human.

I remember leading a mundane life. 

The weekdays of my human life consisted of waking up, going to work, and sleeping. 

On the weekends I’d go for walks, maybe read a page of a book I never intended to finish, play a video game from my childhood, desperately hoping to go back to that time. 

I think eventually we all see it. 

The Cage, we’re born into it and they tell us that’s the world, and being children we believe them. 

We’re fed the false doctrine that the “World” is filled with opportunities and we are free to choose. 

Those shackled and chained Fathers and Mothers, those lower-level inhabitants of The Cage, feed us the false doctrine till our bellies swell and they think us grown. 

What can the Dog do against the collar and leash? Tug at it occasionally? Push forward in hopes of putting distance, only to inevitably be tugged back. 

There’s no escape from The Cage, and how could there be? 

Man built it from the inside, in hopes that we’d be safe from what’s beyond. 

The narrow-minded builders tunnel-visioned by the prospect of security didn’t even make an exit. 

So there we all sat and fiddled with what was near us, almost all began clinging to ideological comforts. 

Some of these in my time were Wealth, Religion, Family, Creation, and many others. 

None of the mentioned or unmentioned comforted me. 

Too cowardly to kill myself, I followed the “Wealth” herd, I never made it far.

The end of a weekday, like all the ones before it. 

I climbed into bed, stared towards the ceiling, and fell asleep. 

When I opened my eyes the next morning, I saw The Sun, heard what sounded like a million firecrackers going off.

A sudden shift in scenery had occurred, I was amidst the clouds.

Then began the screaming, thousands of voices straining for help, a million banshees seemed to have called the heavens home. The sound of sweat descending down my skin, I glanced down. A crater where my complex used to be. I tried putting my hands between my line of vision in an effort to disrupt the bloody hallucination that laid below. Filthy pores, muscle, strings of nerves, bone, then the back of my own hands.

I began falling. The banshee in hot pursuit, 165 bombs went off every minute in my head, sirens, a seemingly endless whistle followed my involuntary descent from heaven. The Hellish Orchestra relentlessly played me out as I got closer to my crater.

I felt the shutting of my eyelids, but what was once followed by darkness now yielded no such comfort.

IMPACT.

I finally started writing “SUPER” I’ve been meaning to ever since I finished the story. I hope it turns out good.