Hawk Phantom's Wild Ride

"Walking down the street I am bopping to he is me and I am him and there is no distinction, we are the same character . . ."

Walking down the street I am bopping to he is me and I am him and there is no distinction, we are the same character. I go down to the corner store. It is a hot day, the sun is dripping down my spine. I throw something on, turn it louder, listen everybody, it’s the switch-up, maybe you’ll hear it, and no one’s going to stop me, no one.

“On Sunday, Mayor Michelle Wu declared a heat emergency for the city of Boston ahead of the incoming hot temperatures expected this week. Temperatures are expected to reach into the 90s with the heat index expected to reach and surpass 100 degrees. According to city officials, the heat emergency will begin on Monday and run through Wednesday. Misting tents will also be placed around the city, including at Boston Housing Authority sites and City Hall Plaza. “As we face another round of hot weather in Boston, our city teams are working to ensure all residents, especially children and seniors, have the resources . . .”

He goes down the street now, he nods at people. It’s Hawk Phantom, but nobody knows its him, on his seventh adventure now. The last time, I had to fight against evil Broncorp chairman and CEO Chas Bron who was secretly a demon stealing the life forces of the people, my people, to sell so rich white ladies can live forever, but he couldn’t stop Hawk Phantom. This high-functioning static feels the beats feels the rhythm of the city, here comes the switch-up. I punched him out and saved the city yet again, but this time its personal because Hawk Phantom got another rejection letter with a lot of words written on it, most of which were bullshit and lies. But now I got a name, she signed it herself. So now Hawk Phantom, along with his secret alter ego Dez Mornay, is going to her office to pay a visit to the woman who rejected me. I don’t think she knows how much time it takes to write. Her company might as well be Broncorp with the stuff they’re selling. Weaponized pain. By and for people who known nothing about the struggle but want other people to think that they care. It makes me want to puke. Now, here comes Hawk Phantom to pay her a visit. She’s a pretty lady too, from the picture I saw on her company website, reminds me of a song: “She a sexy bitch and I’ma flirt/I ain’t shit ‘cause I’m having sex right in this church/I’m a hunnid for life in this merch/I’m a hunnid for life I’m a battery/Stick on the gun, got this bitch lookin’ lattery/Fuck on these bitches what this fuck nigga telling me/These diamonds is getting light red on my neck if you think your chain better, nigga, come and battle me/And If her pussy good, I’ma eat it If she a rookie bitch then I’ma keep her/I’ma take advantage then I’ll leave her.” They don’t even know I am Hawk Phantom, the one and only man the man can’t bring down (that’s his catchphrase). They don’t even know “the rich and intricate history of blaxploitation in Hollywood originates from the desire of black filmmakers, actors, and audiences to witness their portrayal on screen in a manner that transcends the confines of victimhood within the pervasive white narrative.” They don’t even know Shaft was created by a white man named, get this, Ernest Tidyman. But it’s good. At least that man could write. I don’t even hate white people. Not at all. I just want to bring this back and fight crime “I'm so bad, I kick my own ass twice a day” while I’m doing it.

The city is hot today but I grew up here, I know it like the back of my hand. JP born and raised. This is my town and these are my streets, and Hawk Phantom keeps them clean. Downtown turned into a bunch of bougie assholes driving out authentic Boston, all trendy shops and capitalist nightmare, but things like this don’t bother Hawk Phantom so I keep moving, letting these people look at me, look with the quiet disgust of seeing a sweaty fat kid walking in their city, but who says its theirs? They just come here for college and drive the price of everything up, and worst of all

but if they knew me online they’d know I’m the real deal. If you combine all my ratings, I am averaging 4.1 stars on Amazon for the entire Hawk Phantom saga. That’s seven books right now with the eight just rejected by Bastion Publishing. “Amazon calculates a product’s star rating using machine-learned models instead of a simple average. These models consider factors such as how recent the rating or review is and verified purchase status. They use multiple criteria that establish the authenticity of the feedback. The system continues to learn and improve over time. We do not consider customer ratings without an Amazon Verified Purchase status in a product’s overall star rating until a customer adds more details in the form of text, image, or video.” All my ratings are for real. You’d think Bastion Publishing would consider me a bestseller but no, so I walk down right down Boylston to her office. It’s is the Pru, can you believe that? Lording over the whole city. This is the kind of thing I fight against. Injustice. Hawk Phantom is allergic to injustice. It makes him violently ill, emphasis on the violent. I cannot let this continue. “By the power of right!” I say when I am going to deliver the people from evil. I sold over five thousand books and if you add up my reviews I am at 493 over seven books. That is 70.42857142857143 reviews per book. I am doing really well, but her name is Shira Cole and she doesn’t care. I read up on her and she and her company think LLMs are going to be writing the books of the future and are fighting against this. They have nothing to fear, for real. Let me tell you why this is dumb:

An LLM cannot create. It pulls things from other sources. if for example “It works by changing the amounts of certain natural substances in the brain. Amphetamine/dextroamphetamine belongs to a class of drugs known as stimulants. It can help increase your ability to pay attention, stay focused on an activity, and control behavior problems. It may also boys with ADHD typically externalize their frustrations. help you to organize your tasks and improve listening skills” I wanted to write something, I tell the prompt “Make it Shakespeare by Faulkner” and it’ll make something like “To crown my thoughts with acts the load that is no longer theirs that felled and sawed the times when we are traitors came to the broken place and went through it and do not know ourselves,” and you say not bad, but it’s shit no human being would ever write. If Hawk Phantom wrote books, which I do, he could do a million times better.

Creators sort of operate like an LLM. What if I told you who I based Hawk Phantom on? Would you think I’m a fraud, a phony, or a plagiarist, for having diverse influences? I learned from the best. I read. I write. I think. I live my life. I talk to people. It’s difficult. Learning disability, they said but no I am just differently abled. Things hit me differently. Mom and dad tried, they really tried. Sometimes things are hard for me but I’ve written seven books. Seven. Most people are lucky to start writing one, and even though I’m a gamer and play a ton I find the time to write. I still have an imagination you see. It’s easy, really, just “A crucial feature of avatar identification is the transfer of player self-perception, where players merge with in-game avatars, temporarily treating themselves as game characters. The game avatar, as a form of virtual self-presentation, is internalized by players and influences self-identity” don’t be lazy.

I have a near photographic memory.

I am here. I don’t know how I got here so fast. There had to be an elevator ride “Precautions Before taking this medication, tell your doctor or pharmacist if you are allergic to it; or to other sympathomimetic drugs (such as lisdexamfetamine); or if you have any other allergies. This product may contain inactive ingredients, which can cause allergic reactions or other problems. Talk to your pharmacist for more details. Before using this medication, tell your doctor or pharmacist your medical history, especially of: blood circulation problems (such as Raynaud’s disease), certain mental/mood conditions (such as severe agitation, psychosis), personal/family history of mental/mood disorders (such as bipolar disorder, depression, psychotic disorder, suicidal thoughts) boys with ADHD typically externalize their frustrations” ‘cause I don’t remember stairs.

The song in this office . . . They say I’m on the internet too much, I need to log off, touch grass. I live in a city so I touch pavement, and right now I am touching wall-to-wall carpeting that looks puce, but now this “filtered water, coconut water, caffeine, flavoring agents, electrolytes (sodium, potassium, and magnesium), B vitamins, and some essential amino acids” I am drinking keeping me steady on the way here, where I got some fresh air and blue sky. I just want to talk to Shira Cole about my queries, and if she doesn’t, well “If her pussy good, I’ma eat it/If she a rookie bitch then I’ma keep her/I’ma take advantage then I’ll leave her” Hawk Phantom does not take no for an answer. The song in this office goes

dentist office-ass music.

My mom and dad are really all right. I love them so much. I clutch my bag, inside of which is my manuscript. The one Shira Cole rejected. I even got a mock-up cover. Hawk Phantom stares, perched on a building as lightning flashes behind him, illuminating the cloud-draped moon. He’s on the Broncorp building, where I am. There is no need for me to be here. I am doing well. I still cannot move out of my house. I am only twenty-four. I will make enough money someday. I will. I know it. But I am stuck and I am tired of waiting. I need to move on with life. I need

will not end I am sick of this song. I turn up my music. “Mass hallucination, baby Ill education, baby Want to reconnect with your elations? This is your station, baby.” I think I talked to lady receptionist so I had to turn it down. She told me Ms. Cole is busy, would I please come back later? Meetings by appointment only. No, I said, Hawk Phantom does not take no for an answer, “move over and let me pass ‘fore they have be to pullin’ these Hush Puppies out your motherfuckin’ ass,” Trisha. I am really a nice boy. “Mass hallucination, baby Ill education, baby Want to reconnect with your elations? This is your station, baby.” Her head slams on the desk, and before I did it I saw her nametag it said Trisha I am sorry Trisha why did I do this? Blood stains the papers on her desk, encroaching like the tide. Now it hits the pens and I start to feel sick. Now I can go in and see Ms. Cole, this is my appointment ha ha (I think that’s what I said to Trisha) (why am I doing this)) “Before using this medication, tell your doctor or pharmacist your medical history, especially of: blood circulation problems (such as Raynaud’s disease), certain mental/mood conditions (such as severe agitation, psychosis), personal/family history of mental/mood disorders (such as bipolar disorder, depression, psychotic disorder” I am just like my grandfather they say and my uncle and sometimes but I needed this medicine you know, because it’s supposed to help but sometimes I feel like I’m sitting outside my own body watching this thing doing stuff I don’t want to do I call and I yell and I scream but there is no sound only motion and I see this beautiful boy who used to be so kind take this nice lady’s head and slam it into the desk and for what a stupid book a rejection letter? Get a life bro.

The letter claimed Bastion detected use of an LLM to write certain scenes, but I ask you please to listen take a look at a small part from chapter 18 of book 8 near the end when I am getting close to Chas Bron and am about to stop his evil scheme now tell me does this:

“The night air crackled with tension as Hawk Phantom perched on the ledge of BronCorp Tower, his piercing gaze fixed on the neon-lit skyline. Inside the gleaming fortress of corporate greed, CO Chas Bron was preparing to unleash his most sinister scheme yet—draining the life force of Black communities to bottle and sell as a luxury serum for the elite.

Hawk Phantom clenched his fists. He had seen the effects of BronCorp’s experiments firsthand—vibrant souls reduced to empty husks, their essence funneled into sleek, overpriced vials labeled “EternaGlow.” It was theft on a level beyond money or land. It was the robbery of existence itself.

A silent leap, a rush of wind, and he was inside.

The security guards barely saw him coming. A blur of motion, a whisper of dark fabric—then silence. The last one standing reached for his radio, but Hawk Phantom’s gloved hand clamped over his mouth. A flick of the wrist, a calculated strike, and the man slumped to the ground.

Deeper inside, the lab pulsed with an eerie blue glow. Tubes of shimmering energy lined the walls, siphoned from victims who now lay motionless in steel pods. Hawk Phantom’s blood burned.

“Impressive,” came a voice from the observation deck above. Chas Bron emerged, his shark-like grin illuminated by cold artificial light. “I was wondering when you’d show up, Phantom. You always did have a bad habit of sticking your beak where it doesn’t belong.”

Hawk Phantom’s eyes narrowed beneath his mask. “And you have a bad habit of taking what was never yours.”

Bron chuckled, stepping forward with the arrogance of a man who had never faced true consequences. “Business is business. Supply and demand. And you know what the market demands? Black vitality. Your people have something special. I’m just offering them a way to… contribute.”

Hawk Phantom launched himself upward, his cape slicing through the air like a blade. Bron barely had time to dodge before the hero crashed onto the platform, sending a shockwave through the metal catwalk.

The battle was on.

Bron swung first, enhanced by his own stolen product, his strength unnatural, his speed terrifying. But Hawk Phantom was faster. He weaved through the attacks, countering with precision, striking at pressure points, weakening the monster before him.

Below them, alarms blared. The stolen energy—so many stolen lives—was surging, destabilizing. The pods cracked, and from them, the drained victims stirred, their souls returning.

Bron snarled, desperation creeping into his face. “No! You don’t understand! They’ll pay anything for this! I was going to make history!”

Hawk Phantom grabbed him by the collar, lifting him effortlessly. “History will remember you, Bron. Just not the way you wanted.”

With one final, devastating blow, he sent Bron crashing into his own machines. The glass exploded, sparks flying as the stolen energy burst free.

As the lab burned around him, Hawk Phantom stood tall, watching as justice reclaimed what had been stolen.

Tonight, the people had won.”

sound like an LLM wrote it to you? It did to Ms. Cole. But now Hawk Phantom is about to do to her what I did to Chas Bron if she does not give me a publishing contract.

(In fact, I asked a LLM to explain an LLM and this is what it said:

Large Language Models (LLMs) like me are advanced AI systems trained to understand and generate human-like text. Here’s a simple breakdown of how they work:

Training on Massive Data – LLMs are trained on huge amounts of text from books, articles, and websites. This helps them learn grammar, facts, writing styles, and patterns in language.

Tokenization – Instead of reading words like humans, LLMs break down text into smaller chunks called “tokens.” These can be words, subwords, or even characters.

Pattern Recognition – Using deep learning (especially neural networks called transformers), LLMs identify relationships between words and predict what comes next based on context.

Generating Responses – When you type a prompt, the model processes it and predicts the most likely next words, forming a response that sounds natural.

No True Understanding – While LLMs can generate impressive and creative text, they don’t actually think or understand like humans. They rely on probabilities rather than conscious reasoning.

I ask again, does my writing sound like an LLM? No, it does not because I have true understanding, the truest of true. I have a vision and this is what I share in my books, no 502 bad gateway no 500 internal server error, Hawk Phantom has no underlying issues, he’s good.) “She is in,” I tell Trisha and I am in control but I am not in control. “It was strange when I would hear myself talking. Who was this person speaking words out of my mouth? I didn’t feel like it was me.” The thought comes from a website or a book or something but it doesn’t matter because Hawk Phantom has business so I push open Shira Cole’s door and I have to turn my music down even more. “Mass hallucination, baby.”

“Trisha, I said not to bother me until I finish reading this.”

“Iss not Trisha,” someone says. “Iss Hawk Phantom.” Who said that? “It’s like watching your life unfold as if you were an observer, not as the person living it.” That’s what I read somewhere. That’s—

“How did you get in here?” Shira Cole says. But the mighty Hawk Phantom doesn’t give her time to call the police. And she is even better looking in person, all tight-curls and tighter blouse. Hawk Phantom springs into action, hands around her neck, asking her, telling her, begging her, pleading her (note the unique use of grammar; does an LLM do that?) to give him another chance, to just read his manuscript again and they can talk about it, but all that comes out is “Die bitch!” (That’s not what I said!) and then Hawk Phantom sees, amidst her heaving bosom, that little medallion, that six-pointed star, and he says to himself, I say “Oh my God” because that is a symbol of God to some people and what am I doing here? What am I doing to her? I am six-five and weigh three-hundred-and-fifty pounds and she’s so tiny and so female, this is not how I was raised and we fall back to our training when under stress that’s what my karate teacher says and then it is as though clouds had parted and the angels sang and I remember to myself that, okay, I did use an LLM because I was getting tired and uninspired near the end because when I write I just go and go and go and it is cheating an I was so ashamed of myself and instead of using it as a learning experience and an opportunity to move forward, I internalized it and then lashed out. “I’m so sorry I did use an LLM, but just for the last part, I’m so sorry, how is Trisha?” I say and just like I’m babbling. What the fuck. I am not Hawk Phantom. Hawk Phantom is a figment of my imagination and I smashed one woman’s face into the desk and I tried to choke another, and for what? For what?

Now I’m kneeling on the floor just crying like a big fat baby and Shira Cole, the lady whose neck I had my hands around is hugging me, consoling me, and she’s still there when the police come. And I go quietly, you know? Because I’m the guy at fault and they’re all just doing their jobs. And I ask Trisha how she’s doing on the way out. And I tell her I’m sorry, and I really mean it. Later, neither Trisha nor Shira press charges, because the medication I was taking was causing these side-effects, and my parents and I are being told we should be the ones suing the company who makes it because they knew about these side-effects and deliberately misrepresented them to get FDA approval and I almost killed a woman because of it.

This doesn’t sit right with me, you know? I don’t think it would sit right with Hawk Phantom either. This is the kind of thing, when I created the character back when I was a fourteen-year-old kid weaned on comic books, superhero movies, video games, movies from the 70s, and Bible stories, Hawk Phantom would fight against. Bad guys skating. Getting a way with it. He would be the kind of guy who would undergo a voluntary penance to atone for his sins and make sure he never did the wrong thing again. If it sounds childish to you, it’s because you’re too cynical. “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” The things I’ve read, the things I’ve seen, they all come together now, they make a complete picture, they make me. I am the product of a Divine LLM that relies upon conscious reasoning. The thing to do is stay here in this facility, to do the work, and to write. To write and write. I will put childish things away and I will grow and I will evolve and move on to new stories. Just like Hawk Phantom would want me to.

- Alexander

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Thank you for reading this short story. If you would like to read more of my fiction, please check out my books on Amazon. You can also throw a few coins into the tip jar at Buy Me A Coffee. Thank you, and God bless.