The Creation

By FAH3

Metropolis, 1888.

The day was bright and glorious in the massive city. There few clouds that were in the sky were small and perfectly white as the cool breeze pushed them along their way. People were walking out about in the streets admits the wonders towers of steel and glass while others rode in horse drawn carriages. Here and there, the brand new machine that had just been created, the automobile as it was named, was even making an appearance by those who could afford this grand wonder to replace the horse and carriage. Brand new trains were stopping at, and exiting from, the Metropolis Central Station as the steam from their furnaces could be seen from almost miles around. And towering over the city of tomorrow that was known for bringing the future into the present was none other than tower of one of the richest men in Metropolis. Alexander Luthor, master and maker of the vast city of Metropolis. Because of his brilliant mind and keen sense of business, he had turned a small struggling city into a major metropolitan wonder. The very design and operating life of Metropolis was greater than the spectacle that had been created in Gotham City known as Wonder City. Metropolis's very size was even rivaling the size of its sister city, Gotham. But today, Alexander Luthor could not be found in his shimmering ivory tower that lay in the heart of Metropolis. Today, he was walking along the streets of what was once known as his city. As his empire.

Wearing a brand new and finely tailored black suit and a brand new black derby hat, and carrying a black and ivory cane, he gazed at all the wonders and people of his utopia. Stores were selling the latest fashions and goods from all over the world. The newly discovered advances in steam powered machines and air travel by balloons and blimps were already put to practical use. It was something to be proud of, especially if you had started out in life with nothing. Alexander Luthor had been born into poverty when his family still lived in Europe. Luthor's parents had immigrated to America and Alexander's mother worked hard to support the family as both a scullery maid and a seamstress. However, Alexander's father preferred the easier way of making money. Lying, stealing, and cheating his way through life. Alexander's father had amassed a secret fortune, but refused to spend it for anyone or anything. Even when Alexander's mother and sister took ill, his father's greed saw them to their graves. Some time later, Alexander's father was killed by a young ruffian named Bruno Manheim. Afterward, Alexander found his father's money and built his life from there. He worked hard for everything he had now, and by his sweat and blood was now one of the most powerful men in the world. But as he walked along the streets of Metropolis, the streets of gold he had built, he was absolutely miserable. It wasn't because he almost had everything he ever wanted. It was not because he was now out of touch from the working class and poverty stricken people he rose himself from. He was miserable because of one thing. One thing that took the people that groveled at his feet away from him. Or should he say, one man.

The people all around him began to talk in excited gibberish and whisper as they looked into the heavens above them and pointed upward. While everyone smiled with merriment and glee, a small sneer formed and grew on Alexander's face as he slowly looked up into the sky and followed the people's gaze. And what did he see? What did all of them see? They saw the one man that was responsible for Alexander's misery. It was non other than the so-called, self-righteous, hero that dared call Alexander's city his home. The Superman. He was dressed in a blue uniform that greatly resembled the ones that the United States Military wore, with a high collar red cape that covered his shoulders that matched the red boots he wore as he flew over head and defied the laws of gravity. And across his waist was a yellow belt to hold everything together. But the one thing that stood out the most on his uniform was his ridiculous symbol that had been stitched into the center of the uniform's chest. A yellow triangle with red borders, and a stylized S inside of it. As if his name wasn't pompous enough, but he actually wore that symbol as a statement that he was superior to everyone. Ever since that abomination, that freak of nature, came to Metropolis; everyone wanted to know more about him. Never mind the accomplishments that Luthor and his scientists had made in the fields of science, medicine, and machinery. No, no one cared about Luthor trying to make their city great anymore. They wanted to know more about the freak in the cape. The so called savior of the city. What a load of,

"Mr. Luthor?"

"What? What is it?" he asked as he turned to see who was talking to him. When he looked behind himself, he saw that it was his assistant, Mercy. He had found her stealing from him when she was a child, and felt compassion for the urchin. When he took her in, he was amazed to see how easily the abilities of athletics and fighting came to her. Until a few years ago, he made sure she was trained with a different fight master each month. Now, he had her disguised as a young man in order for her to be his personal assistant and bodyguard.

"We received a letter from the Daily Star, sir. Miss Lane and Mr. Kent want to do an interview about the factory explosion." She said to him.

Alexander groaned to himself as he remembered what Mercy was talking about. Almost a week ago, one of his competitors sent a saboteur into one of his factories and blew it up. Many people were lost, and many more would have been if it hadn't been for the freak of nature. The deaths and benefits to their families he could handle. But the titan had destroyed even more of his factory to get the survivors out! It would take almost two years and thousands of dollars to get that factory working again!

"No interviews." Luthor said.

"But sir,"

"I said no interviews! Is that clear?" Luthor barked at the young woman, and saw the fear in her eyes. When ever she saw Luthor this angry, bad things usually followed. "I'm sorry, Mercy. I'm just under a lot of stress." He said as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "When we return to Luthor Tower, ready the automobile. I'm going to spend some time at my cabin."

Besides the abomination that had earned the people's trust, Luthor had two other thorn's in his side. The Daily Star was one of the best and brightest newspapers on the Eastern Seaboard. One part of it was because of two of their reporters that seemed more like undercover detectives. And what was worse, they were the main ones to report about that damn flying fraud! Their names were Clark Joseph Kent and Lois Joanne Lane. From his research, Kent was nothing more but a backwater hick that got lucky. The son of farmers with a ranch so small that he doubted anyone with a pet goat would be threatened by them. And for Lois? Lois was a piece of work in her own right. Her father had fought in the Civil War under General Ulysses S. Grant, and was now a highly decorated general himself. And apparently, his fighting spirit was inherited in his eldest daughter. Lois has been known for doing almost anything to get a story. Even dressing up as a man and infiltrating the Gentlemen's Club! Rumor has it, one disguise of hers even has her as a Master Mason!

Luthor knew Lois could do many things, but he doubted half of those rumors were true. In fact, he had been courting the young star reporter for some time and had hoped their relationship had blossomed to a new level. He was ready to propose to Lois when that – thing – flew into his city. In the time frame of a heart beat, Lois turned her back on Alexander and decided to constantly pursue that caped monstrosity. Luthor needed rest, that much was obvious. But he also needed time. He needed time to think of a way to drag that joke of a "hero" down from the skies and bring him down to his level. Then, and only then, the truth about what that freak really was would be exposed. And when the people cried out for the blood of the wolf in sheep's clothing, Luthor would once again rise as the people's hero. In Metropolis, no one was above Alexander Luthor. No one!


Cabin might have been an understatement. Miles and miles out of the city limits of Metropolis was land Luthor had recently purchased. He had some ideas at what to build here, or maybe expand his industrial empire or even extend the reaches of Metropolis herself. But for now, he had his own personal mansion built here. More precise, he had built it as the place where he and Lois would have spent their honeymoon if he had ever gotten the chance to propose to her. Now, he used it as his own personal laboratory and research center. The only other person that was allowed to ever enter this building was his assistant, Mercy. He knew he could trust Mercy, he had trained her well over the years. But anyone else, and he may have to kill them. But for now, the research could wait. For the moment, Alexander was sitting in a large armchair in the library that had been placed in front of a large fireplace with a roaring fire going inside of it. His coat was off, his vest and part of his shirt unbuttoned with his sleeves rolled up. He sipped a glass that was half full of cognac while smoking a finely rolled Cuban cigar. This was just the things to calm his nerves.

He was so relaxed that everything about the Superman and Lois Lane began to slip from his mind as he felt a much needed, and wanted, sleep begin to overpower him. How he longed for sleep so badly.

"I thought I told you to get that out of here!"

"But I'm telling you, he'll want to see this!"

"Are you crazy? We'll be lucky to still have jobs tomorrow!"

The arguing of two groundskeeper forced Alexander to open his eyes as a dark scowl began to form. Jobs nothing, they'll be lucky they'll still have any kind of livelihood by the time he was done with them.

"Mercy!" he called out, hearing his voice echo about the library.

"I heard them too, Mr. Luthor. I'll take care of it." Mercy said as she briefly poked her head into the library before leaving.

"Good girl" Alexander said with a sadistic grin on his face. Mercy would leave them broken and bleeding, but still alive. They would be jobless and penniless for the rest of their lives, but it would serve as a nice message for the rest of the staff to leave Alexander Luthor alone when he needed time to himself.

"Mr. Luthor?" Mercy asked, causing Alexander to grown and slam his glass on the side table so hard that it nearly shattered the glass itself.

"Now what?" Alexander growled as he glared at his assistant, but knew something was wrong. Her demeanor had changed. Her face, her eyes, even her entire body language. She seemed to be shaken by something. No, she was afraid! He had known that this woman was rarely scared of anything, but now she looked pale as a newly woven sheet and utterly terrified. But what could scare his assistant this badly? "What's wrong?" he asked her.

"They – the groundskeepers have found – something, sir."

"Something? What kind of something?"

"I-I don't know, sir. I can't even describe it. You have to see this for yourself.

Couldn't describe it? Interesting. With his curiosity now craving satisfaction, he immediately followed the young aid through the house and outside to the meticulously cared for grounds. At the side of the house where a lavish garden that would make the Metropolis Gardens blush in shame, and there stood two skinny, sweaty, and unshaven humans that were standing next to a large object that was covered with a large and filthy piece of cloth. Both of them looked as scared as Mercy, even more so. Whether it was because they were facing their employer or because of the object that was covered, Alexander didn't care. HE just hoped that his time wasn't being wasted.

"This had better be good." Alexander said to the two men.

"W-well, sir – um,"

"OUT WITH IT!" Alexander shouted.

"This traveling side show came to town, a couple of weeks ago! They were going bankrupt and selling a bunch of their stuff." One man said.

"And this should interest me, because?"

"Because we were able to buy this off of him for only two bucks. Show him, Larry!" the other man said.

AS fast as they could, the two men quickly pulled the dirty cloth away from what they had been hiding. What was revealed made Alexander's eyes widen and his heart almost stop dead in its tracks. Before them was something almost indescribable. It almost seemed to be a giant perfect geo-metric arrow head. But this was different. Instead of wood, there was metal with no seems or rivets what so ever! It was smooth, like polished stone. Its shape was that of a pentagon, but with what appeared to be an oval in the center of it. The metal itself seemed to be a mixture of polished chrome and silver. All along the craft were strange symbols that had been carved into it. They almost seemed to be a combination of Egyptian hieroglyphs and mathematic designs. Truly, it was astounding.

"Does it open?" Alexander asked them.

"W-we don't know, sir. We haven't' touched it since we bought it. W-we thought you might like to take a look at it." One of the groundskeepers said. As Alexander continued to look at the strange object before him, his eyes found a symbol that he couldn't believe he was seeing! Instead of a triangle, it was a pentagonal shape like the ship but the symbol was unmistakable!

"Gentlemen, I have an offer for you. Let me have this ship, and you both your jobs."

"Say what, Mr. Luthor?"

"You heard me. And if you breath a word of this to anyone at all, and Mercy will crush your skulls in her bare hands. Am I understood?" he asked the two men.

"Y-yes, sir! It's yours, Mr. Luthor! Come on, you idiot!" the man on the right said to his friend as they walked away\y from Alexander and Mercy as fast as they could possibly could.

"Why do you want this thing, Mr. Luthor?" Mercy asked him.

"Take a look at the front of the object. Near the nose." Alexander pointed out, and smiled when Mercy's eyes went wide themselves.

"Is that – isn't that?"

"The freak's symbol. It's slightly different, but it's same one!" Alexander said as he reached out and touched the engraved image.

As soon as he did, the ship came to life. A soft hum could be heard from inside the ship as patterns of blue light made themselves known throughout the object's entire surface. As the humming grew slightly louder, it began to hover several feet off of the ground.

"What did you do?" Mercy asked as she and her employer slowly backed away.

"I don't know!"

Before them, the oval opened as a projection of a man in a strangely fashioned navy blue bodysuit appeared before them. He wore a gold ring around his head and through his black hair. A green cape rested on his shoulders that was attached a green and black pentagonal S symbol that rested on the center of his chest. With his sky blue eyes, he looked directly at Alexander.

"Is it – is a ghost?" Mercy asked as her terror became so apparent that er knees were actually shaking.

"Kal-El, my son." The image said in a deep voice.

"Who?" Alexander asked it.

"You may not remember me, but I am Jor-El. I am your father. By the time you see this message, I will have been dead for many years."

"Did he say message?"

"It's a recording! It's like a recording disk, but with images as well!" Alexander said in awe.

"Before you, this vessel that brought you to this planet; houses all the knowledge of our people. Until a proper place is found, everything our people was resides within this ship. Use it wisely, my son." Jor-El said before his image disappeared. The oval closed, the lights disappeared, and the ship lowered itself to the ground before the hum it made slowly faded.

"What w-was all that?"

"The answer to many things, my dear Mercy. Our so called Superman really isn't what he appears to be. He's – he's from past the stars and beyond the moon!" Alexander said as a smile of wonderment and joy spread across his stern face.

"What do we do now?" Mercy asked her employer.

"Find two pairs of gloves, and help me with this thing. We must move it to my basement laboratory at once!"


Far from Luthor's private country home, amongst the whirling mass of humanity in the streets of Metropolis, something strange occurred. In the upper offices of the Daily Star building, Clark and Lois both worked on their separate stories amongst all the hustle and commotion of the other reporters. Every so often, Lois would glance up from her typewriter and swear that she could hear Clark typing at his with such speed that it almost sounded like crickets chirping.

"Any word about our interview with Luthor, Smallville?" Lois asked him. Lois didn't think highly of Clark at first since he was a farm boy from a town so small that she had never even heard of it. But after he beat her to several stories and actually took the time to read one or two of his articles, she had to admit that the young man had talent. So she thought of him slightly higher than before.

"He turned us down, again." Clark sighed without looking up from his work.

Lois always gave him a bad time, but he still got a kick out of her attitude and the way she acted sometimes. Yes, she got on his nerves as much as he got on hers, but she was also a very compassionate woman who stood firmly with her beliefs and wouldn't back down when they came into question. He had to admit, he admired that in the woman. Most of all, he knew he could trust her out there in the field when their backs were to the wall or they hit a dead end with a story.

"I hate it when he does that. I swear, he's more stubborn than a bull moose sometimes." Lois said to herself.

"You know, Lois; maybe he-"

Clark never finished his sentence as he covered his ears and grimaced in pain. He could hear a noise so loud that it felt like something was trying to make his eardrums explode and his temples cave in on themselves. It was like a combination of nails on a chalkboard and a cat screeching at unbelievable octaves. The pain was so great, he didn't even realize he had fallen out of his chair and onto the newsroom floor. He knew he was groaning in pain, but he couldn't hear anything else but the noise! As he breathing became labored and his face flushed, the noise disappeared. His breathing slowly began to return to normal rhythm as the sounds all around him began to slowly come back. As he opened his eyes, he saw Lois and dozens of other reporters standing above him. And Lois actually looked concerned for him.

"Smallville, are you okay?" she asked him.

"I-I think so." Clark breathed as he re-adjusted his glasses.

"What's going on here?" their editor, Perry White, asked as he came out of his office.

"It's Clark, Chief." Lois said as she looked over her head.

"Kent? Are you all right, son?" the middle-aged man asked him as he offered him a hand up.

"I think I am now." Clark said as he took Perry's hand and stood back onto his feet.

"What in the blazes happened to you?" his editor asked him.

"I'm – I'm honestly not sure. My ears just started ringing, and it wouldn't stop." Clark said.

"It might have something to do with the smoke those factories keep pouring out. I know that all that sometimes makes my nose burn." Lois said.

"Whatever it is, I think you should go see a doctor. Take the rest of the day off to find out what's wrong." Perry said.

"I may just do that, Perry." Clark said as he regained his bearings, grasped his hat from his desk, and left.

As long as he could remember, Clark had never been sick a day in his life and had never experienced anything that before. His powers had developed slowly as he grew up, but they never caused him pain. And nothing he knew off could make a sound like that? What was going on?

"Morning, Mr. Kent!" a boy said as Clark stepped out of the Daily Star.

"Hi, Jimmy. How's business going?" he asked the young Newsie.

"Can't complain that much. I'm hoping I can save enough money to get a camera like all them other photographers got." The young boy said.

"Then let me help out." Clark said as he paid Jimmy for a copy of the Daily Star and tucked it under his arm.

"Looks like on heck of a day, doesn't it?" Jimmy asked as Clark walked away.

"It does. But I think there may be a storm on the horizon.


AUTHOR'S NOTE: I do not work with DC Comics or Warner Bros. I wrote this for fun and not for profit. This story is based off of the DC Elseworlds comic book "Gotham by Gaslight," "The Superman Monster," and a series of toys that were created by an artist under the name of Sillof on Deviant Art dot com. Superman was created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster.