• Home
  • /
  • Stories Hub
  • /
  • Sci-Fi & Fantasy
  • /
  • Superwoman in a Hijab Ch. 02

Superwoman in a Hijab Ch. 02

With a swift lunge I drove the stake through Ibrahim Wahid's heart, ending his existence. The towering, centuries-old vampire crumbled into dust before my eyes. Dust to dust, I said with a shrug, tucking the metal-sheathed stake in my purse. The master vampire had been a particularly dangerous opponent, especially since he'd been around for seven centuries or so. In the end, though, he proved to be no match for me. The undead are my prey, that's the natural order of things. My name is Azizah Shareef, I am a twenty-year-old criminology student at Carleton University in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. Oh, and I hunt vampires.

From the moment I was born I knew I was different. You see, my mother Yasmina Shareef died giving birth to me under mysterious circumstances but my father, whose name I still don't know, I'm reasonably certain that he wasn't quite human. Whatever he was, being of his blood has endowed me with certain extraordinary abilities. I'm five-foot-nine and weigh one hundred and sixty nine pounds soaking wet. I'm a big gal, sure, but I shouldn't be able to lift ten times my weight. Yet I can. I recover quickly from injuries that would kill a normal person. Yeah, I'm special and I know it. Woo-hoo. It's not all fun and games.

From what I read of people in similar situations ( in the realm of fiction ) they're often whining about being different and yearn for a normal life. Me? I'm the complete opposite. The day I discovered that I had amazing abilities and that fate chose me to fight evil is the happiest day of my life. I mean, I'd just gotten dumped by this guy I really liked named Hakim Marshall, and I was walking through the Saint Laurent Mall feeling forlorn when three majorly creepy guys walked in. The moment I looked at them I knew they were...wrong.

To be fair they were kind of pale, with weird eyes. Somehow I sensed they weren't run-of-the-mill creeps but something else altogether. When they followed a random guy to the washroom and I heard screaming afterwards, I went into the men's room to investigate. You hear all sort of weird stories about the shit that goes on in men's washrooms. Sometimes gay hookups take place there. For all I know, the three creeps could have been showing the fourth guy a good time. Yet when I heard his bloodcurdling screams, I knew he was in deep trouble. I went in, and confronted the three amigos. That's when they revealed themselves. Their weird eyes turned bright red, their teeth elongated and sharpened and they sprang at me. I should have gotten my ass kicked but I didn't. instead I waded into the three monsters, kicking ass like I was Chuck Norris himself. I don't know who was more surprised, me or them. Hunter, one of them spat, glaring at me with murderous hatred in his eyes.

Mall security came to investigate the noise and the three creeps took off. I did the same. I've done a lot of naughty things in my day but I don't want to get a reputation as the gal who hangs out in the men's locker room, having 'meetings' with strange guys. People would talk and when you're a Somali chick, that can be hazardous to your health. That day I discovered that there was much more to the world than I thought. For starters, vampires are real. I know they're real because I not only saw them in the flesh, I also fought them.

The day after that incident I was approached by an old white lady named Jacqueline Tremblay. Speaking with a thick Montreal accent she told me that she was a Tracker, and that she'd been assigned to me. According to Miss Tremblay, there are men and women chosen by fate to battle the undead. Those are the Hunters and Huntresses of the world, dedicated to ridding the universe of vampires. The Trackers locate the Hunters and Huntresses, train them and assist them in their vampire-hunting duties. I am yours to command, she said with a quick smile. Thanks but no thanks lady, I said, as I walked away. I'm more of a solo act. With that, I walked away in a huff.

Understand that I was in absolute awe of my newfound superhuman strength and resilience and I had no desire to listen to anyone ever again. I've spent a lifetime listening to people who felt they were better than me. My uncle Ibrahim and my aunt Aisha raised me, and for every day of my life they constantly reminded me that I wasn't their daughter, I'm just someone they got stuck with. I never felt like I belonged in their household. They never treated me like their daughter. I was like a dog to them. If you know Muslim culture and norms, that's saying a lot. I left that household as soon as I could. Now I'm at university on an academic scholarship. And I'm never going back to my uncle and aunt's place. To me it's the definition of hell.

You'd think that finding out I've got special abilities would shock or bother me, and you'd be wrong. I embrace it fully. As confident as I felt about my new powers, I knew that I might need some help at some point. That's why I let Jacqueline help me. Emphasis on let. As I said before, I'm through taking orders. I'm running the show. With her guidance I set out to become the best Huntress that I could be. I tracked down and killed the three fang mates but I also went up against their maker, the centuries-old vampire I killed. Word is getting out about me among the undead. There's a new Shareef in town!

  • Index
  • /
  • Home
  • /
  • Stories Hub
  • /
  • Sci-Fi & Fantasy
  • /
  • Superwoman in a Hijab Ch. 02

All contents © Copyright 1996-2023. Literotica is a registered trademark.

Desktop versionT.O.S.PrivacyReport a ProblemSupport

Version ⁨1.0.2+795cd7d.adb84bd⁩

We are testing a new version of this page. It was made in 31 milliseconds