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What would you do if you could live forever? For me, it’s a question I fear to ask myself. I’m not sure I would like the answer. My name is Kalibar Barok and I was born in what is today called Tunisia, in Africa. The land in which I was born was once called the Carthaginian Empire. I was born in the summer of 650 B.C. Long before the fall of heroic Carthage to the barbaric, imperialistic hordes of the Roman Empire. Anyone looking at me would see a six-foot-three, lean and muscular man in his mid-twenties with dark brown skin, pale gray eyes and long black hair. I stopped aging after I reached the age of twenty five. That’s when I became Immortal.
There are many Immortals out there. Men and women who look like ordinary people, but they’re not. We’re from all over the planet. We’re Black and White, Asian and Latino, and just about every race and ethnicity you can think of. I don’t know why I’m Immortal. I simply am. The way some people are left-handed, or simply gay. I guess I was born this way. The life of an Immortal is far from easy. This mad world is harsh to all living things, especially those that live forever. Because it means our pain simply will never end.
These days, I’m living in the United States of America. Most specifically, the city of Boston, Massachusetts. I’m an adjunct Professor of History at Anderson College. It’s a small, historically black private institution located in the heart of the city. I chose to teach there because I guess, after wandering the world for thousands of years, I wanted to belong once more. Be among my people, or the closest modern equivalent. The majority of Anderson College’s four thousand students were African-American. And many of them were multi-racial, the offspring of African-American and Caucasian or Hispanic parents. I found myself quite fond of these young men and women. They looked a lot like my fellow Carthaginians. A unique people lost to the sands of time more than two thousand years ago.
I’ve seen many wonders and horrors in my time. I’ve met some of the most ruthless men and women in human history. People whose cruelty is almost inhuman. Today’s biographers paint the likes of legends such as Alexander the Great, Helen of Troy, Gilgamesh, Hercules, Queen Cleopatra and uzunköprü escort Emperor Nero in sympathetic light. If only they knew what these madmen and madwomen did when they were in power. When a man or woman has too much power in their hands, they start to see themselves like some sort of god. And they often make others suffer in their folly. Remember that in those days, the power of kings and queens, princes and princesses was far beyond that of today’s prime ministers and presidents. Simply put, the world leader in ancient times saw himself or herself as one step below a deity and far above the common man. This I know intimately.
Recently, I was forced to leave my beloved Anderson College to attend to a certain unpleasant matter abroad. There’s this Immortal named Robert Haven. In ancient times, he was known as Julius Caesar. The would-be Dictator of Rome. History records him as dying during the Ides of March, slain by a horde of desperate Roman Senators, among them his best friend Brutus. Well, he didn’t die that day. He was merely injured. Like myself, he’s an Immortal and can never die. And these days, he’s resurfaced in the world of politics. He’s now a member of the House of Lords in Great Britain. Knowing him, he probably wants to be Britain’s Prime Minister someday. He’s a wealthy politician with a lot of influence in the circles of power. I’ve had to step in to save the world from his madness before. Men like him simply cannot be allowed to roam free. You simply can’t imagine what an evil Immortal would do if he or she were to become ruler of one of the world’s most powerful countries.
The last time we clashed was in Ancient Rome. The man the history books called Julius Caesar was dead to the world. I buried him in an unmarked grave, deep below the earth, to prevent him from causing more harm. Immortals cannot die. It’s simply impossible to kill us. Any body part we lose or damage will simply regenerate, though it may take hours or sometimes days. That’s how Caesar survived being stabbed multiple times by some of Rome’s most powerful men. Even if you were to behead an Immortal, he or she would simply grow another head in a matter of hours. Myself, I’ve been burned, shot, stabbed, disemboweled, van escort and even chopped into small pieces. Every time, I’ve come back to life. That’s what it means to be Immortal. We don’t die. Ever. I buried Julius Caesar after I found him, injured and weakened, and temporarily dead as the city of Rome mourned their recently buried leader. I know what you’re thinking. That was particularly vicious of me. If you met the man, you’d understand. A madman or madwoman cannot be allowed to rule the planet. It would be bad for everyone’s health. Can you understand that? Of course you can’t. You haven’t experienced what I’ve gone through.
I’ve seen men and women exterminated simply because they were different. I’ve seen tribes wipe each other out over ridiculous reasons in the continent of Africa. I’ve seen European invaders slaughter indigenous populations around the globe. This was going on long before the Dutch established the Black Slave Trade with the cooperation of some dull-witted African tribesmen and the systematic extermination of the Native American people by gun-toting evil men from Europe. I’ve seen the horrors that humanity can unleash upon its own. In Africa, I once watched the women of a tribe slaughter their husbands and their sons in one night, all to please the conniving leader of a man-hating cult.
In my lifetime, I’ve loved a few women and a handful of men. Yes, I’m what you’d call bisexual. In the Carthaginian Empire where I grew up, it was not uncommon or frowned upon for men and women to engage in same-sex sexual behavior, even though all citizens were expected to marry and produce offspring. We weren’t a homophobic lot. I guess you could say my people were a liberal bunch. I’m glad to see much of the world moving in a positive direction as far as racial and sexual issues were concerned. I see a lot of gay and lesbian couples around Boston and on the Anderson College campus. And I smile. How the world has changed. I never thought I’d live to see a Black Governor in a majority white state. And now we’ve got a Black President. This gives hope to the world-weary misanthrope that I am.
I love the place where I live and teach, and the people I’m surrounded by. I’ve positioned myself as the protector of varto escort the African-American collegiate community in Boston. I’ve spoken at the high schools, encouraging Black and Hispanic students, especially the young men, to take the leap into higher education. I love my life. I do. Which is why I was so reluctant to get back into the twisted games that Immortals play. It seems that every time I look, one of us is a warlord, a mad scientist, a serial killer or some menace to the ordinary human population. The mortals already have enough problems. They don’t need Immortals destroying everything in sight. So whenever one of my Immortal brothers and sisters step out of line, and I’m around to witness it, I’ve confronted. Most of the time, those confrontations don’t end well. I’ve lost count of many Immortal men and Immortal women I’ve dispatched. I found some particularly ingenious ways to incapacitate them, too.
Let’s see. The woman once known as Helen of Troy was a particularly vicious Immortal. A six-foot-tall, blonde-haired and green-eyed, extraordinarily beautiful young woman. Forever frozen at the age of twenty one. For thousands of years, she’s been a destroyer of men. Manipulation and seduction are her weapons, along with poison. She’s even started a war or two since pitting the Greeks and the Trojans against each other. We crossed paths in 1970s Atlanta. She sensed what I was and sought me out. I was living with my boyfriend Hector at the time. He’s a burly gay Latino hustler I dated back in the day. Helen thought she could seduce me. She paid dearly for that. She’s now buried alive in a crypt near what is today Atlanta Beach. Immortal, sure, but dead to the world. Unable to cause any more harm. Evil Immortals are a threat to the world. And it’s my job to stop them, since these days I seem to be the only one of my undying brethren with a conscience.
I didn’t find Julius Caesar in Great Britain. According to the authorities, he’s spending some time in Greece with his new wife Jacqueline, a middle-aged billionaire he married for reasons other than her looks. As in her money. I wouldn’t be surprised if she died mysteriously and left him her fortune. I can’t run all over Europe tracking him down. I’m sure he’ll turn up eventually and when he does, I’ll be ready. And nothing will stand in my way. He’s going down. I took him down once, and I can do it again. Until we cross paths, then. For now, I’ve got some classes to teach and some young minds to enlighten. Have a nice day, folks.
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