Superglue

Superglue stood at the highest point of the bridge, staring down at the abyss that opened beneath his feet. The cliff seemed sharp as a razor, and the wind from the precipice lashed against his face. Ironically, the man who had the strange ability to secrete superglue from his hands and feet was about to die by falling into the void. A paradoxical situation, since he could easily hold onto anything and avoid his fatal fate. Yet, there he was, ready to end his life filled with frustrations and sorrows.

He looked up at the sky, whispered an apology for all his failures, and decided that the world would be better off without a loser like him.

He jumped.

The air roared in his ears as he fell, saying goodbye to a world that had never understood him. But before he could reach the bottom, a dense mist enveloped him, cushioning his fall and gently carrying him to safety. In his despair, Superglue began to curse the mist that had saved him.

"Leave me alone! I want to die!" he shouted in fury.

The mist began to condense and take on a human form. Hazeman, his eternal arch-nemesis, made his appearance to save his life.

"I can't let you die," Hazeman said calmly.

"Why?" Superglue demanded, his voice broken by despair.

"Because I'm a superhero. It's my duty to save people, even you."

"But I'm a supervillain!" Superglue protested. "Your arch-enemy! If you let me die, you'll be rid of me forever."

Hazeman looked at him with that unshakable serenity that always exasperated Superglue.

"I can't allow it," he responded. "I can't let you die, nor can I allow you to win."

"So, you won't let me die, but you won't let me succeed in any of my schemes either?" Superglue complained bitterly.

"I don't know. Maybe you'll win at something someday. Last time, you were close."

"Close!" Superglue scoffed. "When I tried to glue the space shuttle to the ground so it wouldn't take off… You know everything that takes off from the ground gives me anxiety. But you arrived with your mists and created an air cushion to prevent my glue from touching the main structure. I'll never beat you. If we fight, I can't touch you with my glue because you turn into mist in an instant. My life is miserable; I'm a failure. Nothing makes sense."

Superglue began to dangerously approach the edge of the cliff once more, but Hazeman gently stopped him.

"You know I can't allow it," he said.

Superglue began to cry, his sobs a torrent of hate and despair.

"I hate you! I want to die! This is hell. You won't take me back to that prison surrounded by water, where the only thing I can glue is the soles of my shoes, will you?"

"You haven't committed a crime yet."

"I'm not hurting anyone else."

"I know."

"Then let me die."

"I can't."

"You're a tyrant, that's what you are! You won't let me decide about my own life. You're not a hero; you're a fascist. I’m free to live or die. What’s the difference between supervillains who want to conquer the world and you?"

Hazeman remained unruffled; his gaze like a cloud.

"My job is to defend justice and do good for people," he responded softly. "I protect all that is good."

"But you don't let me decide freely. What's good about that? You don't let people choose freely, whether to do good or bad. I hate you for that!"

"You would hurt yourself, and I can't allow it."

"And there you go again with the same thing. You just keep repeating and repeating. Let's see, is it fair when you beat up a villain because they stole something?"

"Obviously."

"But if they only stole something, wouldn't it be fairer to take back what they stole and something more? I mean, the punishment should fit the crime."

"I'm not entirely convinced, but I'll give you that point; it sounds somewhat fair. And after all these years of knowing each other, we've never had a conversation like this."

"See, not only a tyrant but also discourteous. So, if someone kills someone, their punishment should be death."

"In theory. But I can't kill; my job is to protect life."

"Okay, okay. Then, if I kill someone, you should punish me."

"Yes."

"That’s fair."

"Yes."

"And if that someone is myself, you’d have to punish me, but since I'm both the perpetrator and the victim, we could consider that justice has been served."

"Yes, I think so."

"Ah… excellent."

"Excellent."

They said to each other as Superglue discreetly walked toward the edge of the cliff.

"Excellent."

"Excellent."

He was already at the edge, about to jump when Hazeman stopped him.

"But I can't let you hurt yourself, in the first place because I swore to protect people."

"You're a headache, just leave me alone."

"I am Hazeman, white mist; my job is to bring peace and harmony."

"I'm going to commit suicide; I'll be at peace."

"Not if you suffer any harm."

"But I'm not going to hurt anyone."

"You're a person, and you would hurt yourself. I can't allow it."

"You're like a machine; you can't be reasoned with."

Superglue screamed desperately and pushed Hazeman, trying to get him out of his way. With each shove, Hazeman emitted a small puff of white mist, as if avoiding the blows.

Fed up with fighting against the mist and, in a desperate act, Superglue brought his hands to his mouth. Hazeman watched, not understanding at first what he was doing. But it became clear when Superglue began to secrete glue from his hands and swallow it as quickly as he could. Hazeman tried to stop him, grabbing his hands and pulling him to the ground, but it was too late. He had already ingested large amounts of the toxic glue, and the substance was dripping from his mouth. His body began to convulse.

With the speed of the mist, Hazeman quickly carried him on his shoulders and flew to the hospital. The doctors did everything they could, performing a stomach pump and injecting substances to counteract the toxins. Their efforts kept him alive, but his health was in terrible condition; the toxins from the glue had already been absorbed by his system.

Superglue lay in the hospital bed, drifting in and out of consciousness. When he managed to open his eyes, he barely understood what was happening around him. Yet, Hazeman was by his side, caring for him as no one had ever cared for an arch-enemy.

"Don't die, archenemy," Hazeman whispered. "You're my best villain. What will I do without you?"

Holding his hand, Hazeman gave him the strength to keep going. But the light of life was beginning to fade from Superglue's face. With a final effort, Superglue opened his eyes, looking firmly at Hazeman, and uttered his last words:

"At least I was successful in killing myself."

With that, his body collapsed, going into cardiac arrest. The doctors rushed to revive him, while Hazeman used his powers to provide the necessary ventilation to his lungs. After five minutes of CPR maneuvers, at 23:17, Superglue was declared dead. As he had predicted, no one would remember him, except for one person—his eternal arch-enemy, Hazeman, with whom he had shared so many frustrating moments in life.

In that moment, Hazeman finally understood what it meant to lose a battle. And then he understood the unfortunate Superglue, who, in all these years, had never had a single success. Now, Hazeman knew exactly what it felt like to fail.