Moonage Daydream
folder
Smallville › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,862
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Smallville › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,862
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Smallville, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
three
Chapter Three:
"And I have not yet begun to fuck with people!" Clark Kent roared from high above the small farm town.
It had been three days since he rose into the sky from his loft, his eyes burning so brightly he had been enveloped in the light. In that time, his powers had only seemed to grow with his increasing rage; great red clouds had formed around the last son of Krypton, his power radiated out in vast crashing winds: to the outsiders, it might have seemed that all of Smallville had been devoured by round, spherical tornado.
Clark knew that the damage was he doing was doing was mainly property, all the citizens of the town had long since gone underground, to shelters built after the meteor showers or twisters, some even left over from the Fifties; but all that did little to placate his rage. He would find who had taken Lex Luthor and he would punish them. It was his fault Lex was in his current state, anything else that happened to him from here was also on Clark's head.
Clark knew this wasn't going to end well. He could feel it. Privately he made a wish that Lana would get out of this alive, and he kept storming.
Chloe Sullivan sat on the floor in her underwear amidst spend bags of Fritos and crumpled magazines, PlayStation control in her left hand, rancid pizza in the other. Her room stank of stale female musk and marijuana and Lana was starting to have serious concerns about her friend's current daily hygiene regime. "Did you find anything out about Lex?" Lana asked, already suspecting the answer.
Chloe shook her head, eyes not even leaving the game as the squeals of death blasted out of the screen, "Well, no one's made any ransom demands and there's always disgruntled LuthorCorp employees out for blood. They probably had someone on the inside."
Lana nodded, noting that Chloe talked about the situation as if it were just another one of her games, so Lana did the polite thing and asked her "what are you playing?"
"Lego Star Wars," Chloe told her as a Lego approximation of Ewan McGregor exploded into a pile of Lego guts, only to respawn unscathed a second later.
"You realize that's Clark in there," Lana said, gesturing to the storm roiling outside.
Then, for the first time, Chloe paused her game and spun round and looked at Lana with the deepest, most serious eyes Lana had ever seen in her quirky little friend's head. "I know that, Lana," she said, "I think I'm being to understand everything that happening," she said in a tone that Lana could help but believe, then she threw Lana a pile of papers.
"What's all this?" Lana asked, sifting through the print-outs.
"I've been doing a little research on you friend Hans Bergle," Chloe said, the old fire for snooping back in her eyes for the first time in years.
"And what did you find out?" Lana found it hard to believe a slimy worm like Bergle could be at all integral to all this, but she had to admit Chloe was better at seeing connections like these than herself.
Chloe gave her patented Chloe smirk. "Until about six months ago, 'Hans Bergle' went by the name 'John Byrne.'"
Lana's eyes went wide. "And before that?"
Dressed, once again, in a wicked-cut black-on-black suit, Lex Luthor might have seemed to have returned to his former glory, but the blank expression would more likely indicate the presence of a Lex mannequin than the genuine article. Dr. Bergle hovered over Lex, straightening his collar and wiping the smudges from his cheeks as Lex were his four-year-old son.
"Well, Lex," he said, cooing over him with real affection, "you've made some real progress since I took you in as my own personal project. I think we'll be ready for your big coming out party very, very soon."
Dr. Bergle took a step back. There was something off about Lex. Mentally slapping himself on the forehead, he went in to adjust Lex's left cufflink.
"Yes, Lex," he continued, "I truly think that you're very nearly cured."
Suddenly, Lex's arm wrapped itself around Bergle's neck, choking him. Bergle struggled, tried to break free, but Lex's arm was too strong, far stronger than it should have been. All that time in the hospital, Bergle thought, Lex's muscles should have atrophied from disuse, he should be weaker, barely able to move; as it stands, he's stronger than any man Bergle had known before.
Finally, Bergle lost conscious from being deprived of oxygen, Lex slammed the therapist to the ground, hard, then brought his foot down, crushing Bergle's face. He smiled. "Oh, I was cured all right."
"And I have not yet begun to fuck with people!" Clark Kent roared from high above the small farm town.
It had been three days since he rose into the sky from his loft, his eyes burning so brightly he had been enveloped in the light. In that time, his powers had only seemed to grow with his increasing rage; great red clouds had formed around the last son of Krypton, his power radiated out in vast crashing winds: to the outsiders, it might have seemed that all of Smallville had been devoured by round, spherical tornado.
Clark knew that the damage was he doing was doing was mainly property, all the citizens of the town had long since gone underground, to shelters built after the meteor showers or twisters, some even left over from the Fifties; but all that did little to placate his rage. He would find who had taken Lex Luthor and he would punish them. It was his fault Lex was in his current state, anything else that happened to him from here was also on Clark's head.
Clark knew this wasn't going to end well. He could feel it. Privately he made a wish that Lana would get out of this alive, and he kept storming.
Chloe Sullivan sat on the floor in her underwear amidst spend bags of Fritos and crumpled magazines, PlayStation control in her left hand, rancid pizza in the other. Her room stank of stale female musk and marijuana and Lana was starting to have serious concerns about her friend's current daily hygiene regime. "Did you find anything out about Lex?" Lana asked, already suspecting the answer.
Chloe shook her head, eyes not even leaving the game as the squeals of death blasted out of the screen, "Well, no one's made any ransom demands and there's always disgruntled LuthorCorp employees out for blood. They probably had someone on the inside."
Lana nodded, noting that Chloe talked about the situation as if it were just another one of her games, so Lana did the polite thing and asked her "what are you playing?"
"Lego Star Wars," Chloe told her as a Lego approximation of Ewan McGregor exploded into a pile of Lego guts, only to respawn unscathed a second later.
"You realize that's Clark in there," Lana said, gesturing to the storm roiling outside.
Then, for the first time, Chloe paused her game and spun round and looked at Lana with the deepest, most serious eyes Lana had ever seen in her quirky little friend's head. "I know that, Lana," she said, "I think I'm being to understand everything that happening," she said in a tone that Lana could help but believe, then she threw Lana a pile of papers.
"What's all this?" Lana asked, sifting through the print-outs.
"I've been doing a little research on you friend Hans Bergle," Chloe said, the old fire for snooping back in her eyes for the first time in years.
"And what did you find out?" Lana found it hard to believe a slimy worm like Bergle could be at all integral to all this, but she had to admit Chloe was better at seeing connections like these than herself.
Chloe gave her patented Chloe smirk. "Until about six months ago, 'Hans Bergle' went by the name 'John Byrne.'"
Lana's eyes went wide. "And before that?"
Dressed, once again, in a wicked-cut black-on-black suit, Lex Luthor might have seemed to have returned to his former glory, but the blank expression would more likely indicate the presence of a Lex mannequin than the genuine article. Dr. Bergle hovered over Lex, straightening his collar and wiping the smudges from his cheeks as Lex were his four-year-old son.
"Well, Lex," he said, cooing over him with real affection, "you've made some real progress since I took you in as my own personal project. I think we'll be ready for your big coming out party very, very soon."
Dr. Bergle took a step back. There was something off about Lex. Mentally slapping himself on the forehead, he went in to adjust Lex's left cufflink.
"Yes, Lex," he continued, "I truly think that you're very nearly cured."
Suddenly, Lex's arm wrapped itself around Bergle's neck, choking him. Bergle struggled, tried to break free, but Lex's arm was too strong, far stronger than it should have been. All that time in the hospital, Bergle thought, Lex's muscles should have atrophied from disuse, he should be weaker, barely able to move; as it stands, he's stronger than any man Bergle had known before.
Finally, Bergle lost conscious from being deprived of oxygen, Lex slammed the therapist to the ground, hard, then brought his foot down, crushing Bergle's face. He smiled. "Oh, I was cured all right."