Artistikem

This is the book I’ve been talking about publishing for a very long time. I’ve sharpened my knives in case those ‘the whole world will hate me’ fears come back, hope it doesn’t or we’re all going to die I’ll have to take my pills again.

Nah. I don’t take pills, even when everybody thinks I should. But that’s a whole other subject and we’re here to talk about THE BOOK.

The Last Superhero is the story of Steven S. Waldorf, the last superhero to roam the Earth. His superpowers include telekinesis and the ability to project fantasies into people’s minds. Orphan since an early age, he grew up with no family, no mentor, nothing. After many years of doing both good deeds and evil crimes, society points him as ‘controversial’ and he decides to exile himself.

Fast forward twenty-eight years. He’s slowly making his way back into society when he meets Giana Armstrong, a young woman that not only recognizes him, but knows everything about him. They become friends and a love story starts developing between them while she uncovers the truth about him: where he comes from, what he was, what he is, what torments him and how much he needs to be saved from himself because, as the song goes…

…even heroes have the right to bleed.

Comments, love, hate, any kind of feedback is appreciated!!

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Chapter 1


For the last two months, Steven Waldorf has made a routine out of sitting alone on a park bench. After twenty-eight years of living in what he calls a voluntary seclusion, he has allowed himself to enjoy at least an hour of fresh air and careful observation of the people that visit this particular park. He’s sitting there, under the blue, cloudless sky, looking around in silence with his arms crossed over his chest. His gray hair is blown by sudden gusts of wind that deliver the morning smell of dew still alive under the shadows of tall leafy trees.

Runners catch his eyes and he follows them until they disappear. Pigeons walk their way around the dirt looking for something to peck. Steven observes and sighs.

“Good day,” a young woman says to him, “is this side taken?”

His eyes turn slowly to her as he shakes his head. She smiles, sits next to him, and quickly opens her laptop.

“Nice day, isn’t it?” she asks as if to strike a conversation.

“So it seems,” he answers reluctantly, not used to chatting with strangers.

“I just love the smell of dew. I love to come here this time of the year. Autumn is my favorite season.”

She notices he’s glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. What she doesn’t know is that all he is really doing is trying to get a picture of whoever is annoying him. Her computer sits on an uncomfortable angle over her lap, her smile is wide under her dark eyes, framed by her brunette hair.

“Do you come here often?” she proceeds.

“Yes, every day. Do you?”

Their glances meet for the first time when, in a flash, she feels her laptop sliding down her legs but then flying back up to her lap. Her eyes bulge, trying to figure out what’s just happened.

Steven turns to look away, rearranging his arms back to being crossed over his chest.

“Oh my God! What did just happen?” she turns to see Steven looking rather tense.

“Did you just…?”

“No.”

“But I saw you…”

“No.”

“You caught it midair… But you didn’t touch it.”

“No.”

Her surprise is big enough to make him jump from his seat and start walking away. She shoves the laptop into her bag and runs to catch him.

“Sir, don’t walk away. Please!”

He ignores her call as she tries to keep up with him. Once she’s able to reach him, she pulls him by an arm.

“What!?” he cries, visibly irritated.

“I think I know who you are.”

“You don’t,” he pulls his arm from her grip and starts walking again.

“Mr. Waldorf?” she’s able to stop him in his tracks, “Steven Waldorf?”

Steven turns on his heels and walks to her with raging eyes. “Look…” he points a finger severely at her face.

“Giana,” she starts leaning backwards as he towers over her.

“I am not who you think I am, Giana,” he sneers, his eyes narrowing further with every word.

“Yes you are,” she’s determined to confirm his identity, “you are Steven Waldorf. The superhero.”

He’s amazed by the fact that she keeps talking even when he’s trying to scare her off with his stance and expression.

“How do you know that?”

“So you are Steven Waldorf,” she wants to sound as if she isn’t shaking inside and seems to be hiding it very well.

“What if I was?”

“Then… It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Waldorf,” she stretches her hand out for a handshake but is left hanging. “I would like to thank you for saving my mother from falling off a cliff when she was young,” suddenly her words seem to have the power to soften Steven’s stern look, “she always meant to thank you but never got the chance. Then you disappeared and everybody thought you were dead.”

“Steven Waldorf is dead.”

“I never believed that, and if I ever found him, I wouldn’t tell he’s alive.”

Giana’s eyes sparkle, fact that makes Steven extremely uncomfortable. He stares at her for a moment before walking away with his fists clenched at his sides.

She watches in silence as his khakis and brown jacket disappear and sighs, excited about her finding, yet worried about how that first impression had worked for her.