They Will Rise

They Will Rise

Flora_Winters

I do not own Smallville or anything written by H.P. Lovecraft. I am also not making any money here either.

Summary: Bow down before the Old Ones, you pathetic, mortal bugs. They will defile and devour your putrid souls. Ia Ia Cthulhu fhtagn! Not even the star, cross, or moon shall save you from their raging maws.

Warning: This story will contain male on male action, strong language, explicit scenes of violence, and original characters.

Chapter Four

Hey there, Cthulhu
I’ve been studying your gospel
The Necronomicon, it gives me nightmares something awful
Where I see
The death of all reality, it feels me with glee

--Eben Brooks

Lana Lang stood at the window, pushing the violet curtain aside, watching the rain beat against the thin sheet of glass before her. She was wearing a devious smirk on her beautiful face. It would all only be a matter of time, not long at all now.

The blood of a handsome male virgin had been willingly spilled upon the Child of Dagon. The Siren of Destruction would soon awaken to his primordial nature, shed off his humanity, and rise like a maelstrom.

Crimson lightning split the black clouds on the other side of the pane. She began to laugh. It was low and sweet. That soon changed. She couldn’t stop herself. She put her manicured hands to the cool glass, howling with insane laughter. Her olive-green eyes were wild and crazed. She threw her head back as the lighting flashed, casting her slender frame in moving darkness.

Dagon was going to rise up from the foamy sea, and the world would once again belong to the mighty Old Ones. Nothing could stop it. There was nothing. The time had come. The stars would soon become right once more. If there was still any hope, it was but now a single candle flame, and the waters around it were ever rising.

“Ia Ia Cthulhu fhtagn!”

Thunder bellowed as if rolling along with joyful ocean breakers. It all sounded quite hungry. It was a great roar of celebration to her ears.

“Arise, Tyler!” She cried, smacking the glass with her left palm, cracking it. “Arise! Lead us all into that wondrous abyss!”

~*~

Topaz-blue eyes snapped open and the light above his head flickered off, leaving him in utter darkness. A loud boom of thunder filled his ears, making him bolt up rather quickly. Where the hell was he?

“Great,” a voice hissed. It sounded like Chloe. “It’s just like this dump to lose power during a crisis.”

“Chloe?” He asked, turning to where her voice was coming from. A flash of lightning illuminated the slender shape before him.

“Yes,” she told him, leaning against the foot of the bed. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said, shaking his head, suddenly remembering what he had witnessed. He gripped the sheets, making twin fists. “Whitney! Is he okay?”

“I don’t know,” she answered, taking a step back from the bed. “He wasn’t moving when they loaded him into the ambulance.”

“Where am I?” He asked, looking around in the semi-darkness. “How did I get here?”

“This is the nurse’s office,” she told him. “You passed out and Clark carried you here.”

He had passed out? He didn’t remember. Clark had carried him? Well, that was embarrassing. But, he didn’t care. Why had Whitney jumped?

“Um, where are my pants?” He asked, realizing he didn’t have any on. “Why are my pants off, Chloe?”

He pulled the covers up to his chin.

“They were splattered with Whitney’s blood,” she said, walking around the bed to stand beside him. “The nurse took them.”

At least he wasn’t naked. He still had his boxers on. That was a good thing. For a moment, he had begun to think Clark had done something very naughty with his unconscious body.

He rolled his eyes. Yeah, right! What would a hot stud like Clark see in him? He was too skinny, pale as a moth, and losing his eyesight like an hourglass loses sand.

“I’m doing this for you, Tyler,” Chloe’s voice echoed in the darkness. It sent chills racing like ice-cubes down his spine. “What was Whitney talking about?”

The lights flickered back on overhead, making him squint. It was too bright. His eyes began to water on him.

“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully. He didn’t know.

“He also shouted out that name which was written on the inside of Russell’s barn in blood,” she said.

Tyler shook his head. He could hear what all his mom and dad had told him. It was creepy. It was scary. He believed it to be very real. He had seen that monster in the barn. It had touched him, obeyed him. He had seen the name written in blood. It had looked like something from out of a nightmare. And now Whitney had thrown himself down at his feet from a three story height.

He blinked in sudden horror. He had wanted to see the jock naked and before him when they had spoken in the hall. It had come to pass. But, not in the way he had fantasized. Had he caused Whitney to jump? No! He hadn’t wanted that. He would never ask or ever want such a thing.

“It looked almost like he was reaching down to embrace you just before he jumped,” she went on.

He narrowed his eyes, looking up at her. Was she accusing him of something? Why? He had just moved to this seriously fucked up little town. He had done nothing wrong.

“Can you control people with your mind, Tyler?” She asked him. “Did he do something to you? Is that why you punished him with your meteor powers?”

Tyler leaned back. What the hell was she going on about? Meteor powers? What the fuck was that?

“I honestly think you’re fucking insane, Chloe,” he told her matter of fact. “What the hell are you talking about? I just moved here. If I had these meteor powers, I’d have you get me my goddamn sunglasses, because it’s too bright in here.”

“He said your name,” she said, stepping back towards the door. “Whitney was a normal, star athlete. He would never just up and kill himself.”

Tyler gasped. “He’s dead?”

Chloe opened the door. “He crapped and pissed all over himself at your bloody feet,” she said, looking over her shoulder at him. “What do you think a dead body does?”

He trembled.

She stepped from the room and the door banged shut, leaving him in utter silence. He just looked at the closed door. He hadn’t done anything. He was innocent. He didn’t even know the jock. They had just met in the damn hall. This wasn’t right. Why was she talking to him like that? It was mean, rude, and totally uncalled for. She didn’t know him. And what the hell were these meteor powers?

His legs suddenly began to ache and he fell back against his pillow, moaning in pain. He felt like the veins in his legs were on fire. It felt like lightning was running through them. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all. It fucking hurt.

He turned his head to the side, feeling as if the lower half of his body was going to burst into roaring flames. That is exactly how it felt.

“Hey!” He shouted, fighting the pain, trying to sit up with no success. “Is anybody there?”

He pushed back the covers and a felt a scream rising to fill his mouth. He quickly put his hands up, muffling it the best he could.

His eyes were wide with fear as he looked down at himself. Both of his legs were painted in a thick coat of what looked to be blood. It was warm and the pain under the crimson honey was searing.

He screamed into his trembling hands, watching how the blood looked to be boiling along with his white flesh. It was changing. He was changing. His boxers ripped. The bottom half of his body was changing right before his terror-filled eyes.

Voices filled the room, filling his mind. Men and women were chanting in ominous song. It was the prayers to evil.

Scales and fins broke free from his flesh. He screamed, falling from the bed.

~*~

Clark couldn’t believe it. Whitney had tried to take his life. The jock’s heart had still been beating in his ears when the paramedics had loaded him into the ambulance on a stretcher. That had been a good sign. Maybe the doctors would be able to save his life.

He shook his head. Why did Whitney do it? It made no sense. The jock was popular. He had it all to life for. Now, he was probably in a coma or dead…dead like Russell.

He closed his locker, turning from it. He began walking towards the nurse’s office. He needed to speak with Tyler.

Whitney had told the blue-eyed beauty that he was doing it all for him. What had he meant by that? Whitney didn’t even know Tyler.

There was only one possible explanation. Tyler had to be meteor infected.

But, why had Whitney cried out that Cthulhu name? Oh, just thinking about that name, send shivers down his spine.

“Clark!” A voice called, making him look. It was Chloe. She was walking right towards him.

“Hey,” he said, stopping.

“We need to talk about Tyler,” she said, stopping a foot from him. “And we need to go check out Russell’s barn.”

He blinked. He really didn’t want to go back there.

“I think Tyler is meteor infected,” she told him. “And I want to know who or what this Cthulhu is.”

“Okay,” he said, licking his upper lip. “I…agree. Let’s go to Russ’s farm.”

That was when he heard Tyler screaming. He sounded terrified.

“Clark!” Chloe yelled from behind him. “The parking lot is this way!”

He raced down the hall, heading for the nurse’s office. Those near silent cries chilled his blood. Tyler sounded so very scared.

He ran through the door, letting it slam shut behind him with a loud smack. The glass in the little window cracked.

To Be Continued.

Please review.

Flora.