“Where’s Superman?”

Batman’s hastily asked question was directed at nobody in particular as each member of the League was presently engaged in fierce battle. To his left was Wonder Woman attending to two villains. The Flash, dragging a hapless captive in tow whizzed past Green Lantern, who had another of the aliens trapped in a gigantic green vice emanating from his power ring. Aquaman, as loud and boisterous as ever was everywhere, roaring his Atlantis war song as he punched and kicked numerous foes about like ninepins.

The Man of Steel had previously been seen swooping towards the surface to engage Darkseid as was the custom when the camps clashed. Those two were familiar foes as everybody knew and they were usually left to keep each other’s company during fights. Curiously now though, he wasn’t visible anywhere on the Martian horizon. Where the hell was he?

Nobody answered him.

There was little time available to continue wondering but there were many alien butts begging to be kicked. Batman liked nothing better than kicking alien butt.

Zuma Rock Nigeria
Zuma Rock Nigeria

Somewhere on Earth…

Something large hurtled through the tropical darkness and crashed into Zuma rock, bounced off its hard surface and rolled a couple of feet into the surrounding bush.

The man of Steel shook his head a couple of times to clear it of its wooziness and the loud ringing noise that seemed to be trying to shatter his skull. Darkseid’s punch had caught him unawares, knocking him totally out of the red planet’s orbit and past the International Space Observatory towards Earth. The battle to defend John’s home planet had been pretty ferocious with the League largely outnumbered by the forces of evil. It was more than important for him to get back up there immediately to help his friends achieve victory.

He tried standing up to check his surroundings but his knees strangely weakened and buckled. His vision blurred as hot sweat rolled off him in rivulets and he also quite suddenly felt nauseous. These were obviously not the after effects of the atomic punch. Darkseid sure could hit them hard but even he couldn’t hit that hard. There had to be Kryptonite close by.

Shaking his head again and hoping his nemesis wasn’t too close, Superman slowly crawled away from the looming shadow of the huge rock he’d crashed into on his way down. Something told him that was the only likely source of Kryptonite in the vicinity.

Five minutes later and he had just managed to crawl a few feet from his starting point yet he felt as tired as Lois usually got after running the annual Metropolis marathon, so tired that he had no choice but to allow the overwhelming fatigue envelope him. He slept off right there in the open desolation of the grassy field.

A full moon rose high in the sky a quarter of an hour later.


A sharp peck on his nose brought Superman back to consciousness and he opened his eyes. An ugly vulture stood on his chest, testing him with its huge beak to check if he was ripe for consumption or not. He shooed the hungry carrion-eater away with his left hand and used his right to shade his eyes from the diffused light of the breaking dawn.

His whole body ached but he slowly sat up and was happy to discover that the nausea had passed. Absent mindedly he scratched his neck just below his left ear where it itched badly; something must have bitten him there while he slept. His super senses were returning with his strength and already he could hear buzzing in the surrounding air. He flexed his muscles to aid the recovery process.


The Nigerian Air Force Radar at the Abuja International Airport briefly beeped as it picked up an object that zoomed from the ground up into the brightness of the morning sky at lightning speed some 100 odd kilometers away. The operator on duty looked up to check the screen and saw nothing special or worthy of interest, then casually shrugged and returned to ogling the lewd pictures on the page of his Better Lover magazine while muttering to himself.
“Stufid and confused comfuter.”

Six Months Later…

Seun sat on his living room sofa watching Channels Television’s 10 o’clock news. A correspondent was reporting live from the new terminal building of the Abuja International Airport where he was with other newshounds to cover the arrival of WHO and CDC personnel who were in Nigeria to try and combat the invasion of a new strain of mutant mosquitoes.

According to reports, more than ten totally drained bodies had already been recovered with puncture wounds and quite a number of people had testified to having sighted the supersized mosquitoes responsible for their demise. The mutant mosquitoes were said to be capable of draining pints of blood with a single bite, totally resistant to all forms of insecticides (they even seemed to thrive on them) and were even able to cut through layers of metallic mosquito netting.

“These people must be joking. Mutant mosquitos in Nigeria? Na today mosquitoes don dey bite boys? Abeegi, these oyinbo people sabi over dramatize nonsense jare. ”

Shaking his head in disbelief, he stood up and clicked the remote control switching off the TV, then headed towards the backyard to switch off his ever faithful ‘I better pass my neighbour’. He definitely wasn’t in the mood to waste his expensive black market petrol on this kind of crappy news.


Meanwhile outside his front door, a small cloud of cockroach-sized mosquitoes moved forward in combat formation immediately the house lights went off. On the command of the squadron leader, two hefty looking insects with armored wings landed on the Zinc roof and began tearing an opening in the roofing sheet with their reinforced jaws…

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