Moonage Daydream

Chapter Two:


"Oh, I'm sorry, am I offending the perverts?"
"Ms. Lang," Dr. Bergle tried to calm the fuming Lana with an out-stretched arm (which she duly dodged), "these men and women aren't 'perverts' at all, they're very troubled individuals deserving of your respect and patience who happen to be best served by my own unique brand of therapy."
Lana raised an eyebrow. "Your brand of therapy? You get total strangers to sit in a circle and masturbate; that just isn't normal."
"Ms. Lang," Dr. Bergle again tried to defuse the situation, he knew being verbally abused by a young woman as beautiful as Lana would be emotionally crippling to his patients, he even feared some of them might never masturbate again.
"Dr. Bergle," Lana said, regaining some of her collection. She had always been a sweet, understanding girl, but the years of weekly bouts of being knocked unconscious by various meteor- born freaks had proven severely draining to her bullshit tolerance. "I don't mean to disrupt your... session, but I need answers. Yesterday, Lex Luthor was in his room with no signs of going anywhere any time soon. Today, he's vanished without a trace. Tell me where he is."
Dr. Bergle gave Lana what he hoped was a sincere look of remorse, but he suspected such gesture was somewhat hurt by the extend to which he memorized her every petite curve for later session work. "I can honestly tell you that I have no idea. No one broke into the hospital, no one signed Mr. Luthor out, and I can hardly imagine he walked out of his own accord."
Lana's eyes flared, but she kept her cool and managed to curtly thank Dr. Bergle before ruefully slamming to door on him and his whole crew of wankers. "How am I ever going to explain this to Clark," she thought.

For the first time in months Lex Luthor was being to gain some measure of awareness of his surroundings. Four walls, grey, this time, not white. The scent of industrialization (he knew it well, it was as integral to his role as a captain of industry as his million dollar suits and youthful indiscretions) was all around, and he was being monitored.
In each of his hands he held six Lego men, each a different of race, profession, and appearance, at least so far as the limitations of their maker allowed. His eyes wide with child-like wonder, Lex named them each in turn: Matthew, Thomas, Peter, and the others. Finding an open drain in the floor, Lex delighted himself by dangling the little Lego men above the gaping void, frightening some with the prospect of their own mortality and dropping only those he deemed fit. Others he beheaded with a flick of his thumb, or ripped to their component parts, only to build new, hybridized Lego men out of the bits of the fallen.
If Lex still had access to his memories, he would find that this was the happiest he had been in his life, looking down on these men over whom had been given dominion. They were Legos in the hands of an angry god.
Presently, one of his captors turned to speak to the other. "How long has he been like this?"

All the way back to the barn, Lana had tried to think what she would say to Clark about Lex's disappearance. Obviously he would be devastated, it would be a safe bet that he would try to find Lex as he always had before in such cases, frequent as they once had been. But Lana knew that it would be different this time. Clark was above Lex right now in terms of mental and physical health, but just barely. Even if he found Lex, Lana had serious doubts he could go toe to toe with his captors, whatever they may be. By the time Lana was in visual distance of the farm, she knew she had other things to worry about.
Red light like Amsterdam in the New Year poured out of every window in Clark's loft; that weird, rushing steam that somehow only exists in old horror movies burped and gargled out with it. Lana ran into the barn, not fully knowing what to expect, completely unprepared for what she was about to see. Clark, naked as a Greek Olympian, stood a full foot above the ground, his face contorted in pure hatred. His eyes, burning like twin nuclear pylons, were the source of the red light, and, though this light brought the request heat with it, it was a heat that burned Lana like ice. Involuntarily, Lana's eyes drifted downward and she was shocked and even a bit frightened to find that his penis (a schlong of REMARKABLE girth) was granite hard and pointed straight at her.
She wondered if Clark was aware she was in the room with him. She wondered if he could see her with his burning eyes or if he could somehow see everything. Clark brought such concerns to a close when he finally spoke. "I know what's happening, Lana."
It was all too much for Lana to take in. "Clark?"
He nodded. "I am power itself, Lana." He said in a voice that sounded like mountains a universe away. "I am Superman."