Submitted for the January 2025 prompt: Galactic Brackets

“Axel Sutton isn’t human! He’s… an alien, man!”

 

Axel’s head whipped around to the canned voice coming from the rookie linebacker's phone. “That touchdown catch was sick. No one can get over it.”

 

Axel snorted and went back to lacing his cleats up. Just a strange metaphor the analysts used to describe his athletic prowess. Still, it was jarring to hear that word.

 

The locker room was buzzing with nervous energy before the Championship Game. This was Axel's third. Last two sent them to an eventual Super Bowl win. This one could too, if they could win.

 

* * *

 

“Hut, hut!!” Duggar screamed.

 

Axel was off the line of scrimmage in a flash as Duggar dropped back and surveyed the field. Axel dipped his body to the right, seeing the defender’s hips swivel in reaction, and then bolted to the left. Duggar heaved a beauty and the ball thudded into Axel’s palms. He ran several more yards before the safety brought him down.

 

“Axel’s third catch goes for 32 yards!”

 

The stadium quieted. Axel scanned the stands and found Mark and Donna — his parents — clapping wildly. The only two wearing blue in a sea of red. They were so supportive. The best adoptive parents ever. And simultaneously, the worst, since they had unknowingly aided in the murder of Axel’s true parents.

 

It had been a summer night in Rock Creek, Alabama when the scientists had deemed Earth not worth it for the Belichian race to move to. This planet was depleting its resources faster than Belchak. The entire team of scientists had kept their Earthling-Skins on the full duration of the three-year expedition. A frustrating three years for young Axel. He hadn’t wanted to leave his friends or his home, but his parents couldn’t turn down the opportunity of a lifetime.

 

The rest of the group had vacated but Axel’s parents’ ship had had a malfunction. They’d worked to fix it quickly, but the Earthling-Skins made the task too difficult, so in the cover of the tall red cedars, they’d shed their Skins. When those two dozen Earthlings had investigated the crash site, they saw an 11-year-old Earthling boy and two aliens. They’d charged and screamed, vowing to protect the young boy.

 

Belichians were far superior to Earthlings in every physical way. But the sheer numbers of the Earthlings had overpowered Axel's parents and pounded them into the moist dirt.

 

“You’re OK, kiddo. Where are your parents?”

 

“I don’t… I don’t… they’re dead!”

 

It had been assumed the aliens killed Axel’s parents, and he’d been taken in by two Earthlings in the mob, Mark and Donna.

 

A sharp whistle jolted Axel out of his daydream. A teammate had scored. 14-7.

 

* * *

 

Duggar called out the play. Axel knew this one, it was his time to shine. He glanced at the scoreboard. They were down 20-14, three minutes left in the third quarter. Earthlings began getting tired around this point. Axel's lungs remained calm, his body fresh. Something his coach had loved about him in college. “No one can catch you, huh?”

 

No one could. But every so often, Axel let them, so he wouldn’t seem to be too good. So, his talents wouldn’t seem… inhuman. But he allowed himself plenty of big plays to put himself on the map, allowed himself to get drafted to the NFL and become one of its premiere wide receivers. Last year's AFC Championship game, Axel had been a hero. Besides the 13 receptions and 3 touchdowns, his 196 yards set a new record for Championship games. He'd led his team to a second Super Bowl, and he was poised to get to a third.

 

“Hut, hut!” Duggar had the ball.

 

Axel’s acceleration was unmatched and defenders were on their heels trying to turn around when it was already too late. The ball was in Axel’s hands and he raced down the field for a 48-yard score. 21-20.

 

* * *

 

Axel glanced at the scoreboard as he jogged back out onto the field. Under two minutes left. No timeouts. His team was down 34-28.

 

Duggar spread the ball out expertly, hitting all his receivers, one by one. But the opposing defense stepped it up and forced them into a 4th and 10 on the 50-yard-line with 29 seconds left.

 

Axel wasn’t fazed. The crowd noise was muted. He already had 8 grabs for 151 yards. The next play was going to put Axel in the end zone and send his team to another Super Bowl. The attention would be tremendous.

 

That’d put him over 200 yards. Breaking his own record. They’d begin to call him the best receiver in the game. They’d compare him to the greatest ones ever. They’d pick. They’d pry. They’d want to know everything about him. What if they found out too much?

 

The nervous defender tasked with covering him was drenched in sweat. This poor guy, never been to a Super Bowl. Grew up in poverty. This was his ticket. He was flawed. So was this entire race of beings. Sometimes they didn’t know any better. Sometimes they didn’t want to know any better.

 

Sometimes they killed innocent beings.

 

But many times, they tried.

 

“Hut, hut!”

 

Axel took off, veering to the left and then cutting viciously to the right. The defender’s feet fumbled for a moment and Axel torched by him. Nothing but green grass in front of him. He peeked over his shoulder and saw the ball soaring his way.

 

Axel stretched his hands out, letting the ball hit them, but he closed his fingers together too late. The ball fell to the ground.

 

A sharp whistle sounded.

 

The crowd cheered because they’d finally taken down their mighty foes.

 

Axel trudged off the field. Teammates consoled him and said it wasn’t his fault. Funny beings. Of course it was his fault! That was how he had orchestrated it!

 

Axel watched the coverage of the game that night. “Axel Sutton actually is human!”

 

Axel chuckled. “Glad they think so.”