Red Moonlight

by mackenzie925

Murder! Chloe tries to solve a big case with Clark's help, but quickly finds herself where she doesn't want to be .. on the hit list. Halloween scariness, and rated mature because of it. Will be posted in its entirety.

1. October Nights

Title: Red Moonlight
Rating: M ... no doubt on this one.
Pairing:Almost all Chlark ... but there is a some Chlimmy.
Dislcaimer: I do not own Smallville. If I did, season six never would have happened. :-)

Author's Note: First off, I will be posting this in its entirety between now and Halloween. This is a Halloween fic, with some graphic pictures, and with a little sex thrown in the mix for good measure. This story takes place at the beginning of season six, and is my take on how things could have been handled after the kiss. Clearly the kiss between Clark and Chloe at the end of season five meant something to Clark, even if the writers won't explore the emotions he expressed. Here in this story, I take those emotions a little more seriously.

000000000000000000000000000000

Episode One: October Nights

0000000000

Murder.

The main subject of the pages scattered on her desk - the fuselage of a case left unsolved. Chloe scanned the material with a careful, inquisitive, yet also with an exceptionally excited attention span. It had been far too long since she had taken on a case with any value, other than the occasional jaywalking that took up very little of her brain power. Of course, because she was in this lowly position at the Daily Planet, she should feel lucky to receive anything more than a wedding announcement or an obituary. Actually, after her twentieth cup of coffee, the obits turned into quite an interesting read late at night. She would never tell anyone this, but she often discovered the true nature of a person by the word choice loved ones used in an obituary.

Someone with very little to do at the Planet had to find something to fill the time.

At the moment, however, she was blessed with a real grotesque case. It centered mostly on a woman who left late from work one Friday night. The woman climbed into her car and drove due east, towards her home in Farmersville - a small, newly refurbished suburb just outside of Metropolis. Nothing was out of the ordinary until her car broke down a few miles outside of the city, with her home still ten miles away. Immediately she called her husband, and he told her to sit tight until he arrived.

In the meantime, she decided to check the slow smoking engine to see if any amount of her limited automotive knowledge would be of use. With her head under the hood, she neglected to see the approach of another from the brush alongside the opposite side of the road. Since no one was within a ten-mile radius, nobody heard her screams when she was slashed from behind. Nor did anyone hear her fall.

Nor did anyone hear her strangled gasps of terror as her attacker began to feast upon her torn flesh.

Chloe flinched only a little when she read the word cannibalism listed in the details of the file. Her youth spent in Smallville with meteor-juiced criminals helped dampen the shock of the unusual, no matter how ugly. The unusual cases often interested her the most anyway, and she found no trouble investigating them. Her unpublished story on modern-day vampires residing on the Metropolis University campus had spread quickly within the ranks of the Daily Planet, and her reputation for the abnormal was beginning to precede her. People expected her to take on cases of this flavor.

So when her boss approached her earlier in the day to write a follow-up story on the murder, Chloe wasn't surprised. Unfortunately, the city police and the Planet officially closed the file two months ago due to lack of evidence. Both organizations spent time and money to solve the terrifying case, yet neither could produce a solid suspect. Anyone even remotely involved seemed to have had a bulletproof alibi, and any physical evidence gathered at the scene attested to the victim's presence, but no one else's.

Plenty of suspicion, of course. But nothing concrete.

The physical evidence did determine two things, however: the attacker stood on two legs, and slashed the victim from behind with a sharp object. Other than the suggestion of a knife used as a weapon, Chloe wasn't at all certain the assailant was even human. It was an avenue only remotely pursued in previous investigations, mainly because investigators argued no animal could mangle a human in such a meticulous and gruesome way. The killer, by the state of the body he left behind, had one purpose in mind – to dine on its favorite source of food.

Nevertheless, despite the failure of both the authorities and the media to produce anything of value, the Planet sold twice as many editions of the paper than normal while the case unfolded. People were caught up completely in the hype of such a tragic murder. Every office water cooler in town had the topic bulleted into daily conversation, and it had turned into quite a local phenomenon. Metropolis citizens were shocked that an ancient ritual like cannibalism was still practiced in today's society, even if only by one, sick individual. Flowers were sent to the victim's family, and donations were set up to start a scholarship fund for not only the victim's children, but also many to follow.

Over all, the very gross nature of the murder heightened people's interest the most, even if many wouldn't admit it. It was like witnessing a car accident on the freeway - a passerby can't help but stop and stare, no matter how disturbing the tragedy might be.

Maybe Chloe was like everyone else, because she couldn't wait to investigate the case in further depth. The unnatural details were more than enough encouragement for her to continue. Although, her lengthy days spent on wedding announcements and obituaries probably had something to do with her excitement.

Her boyfriend would attest to her interest in the abnormal as something far less admirable, or even comprehendible. Her need to expose the truth at all costs often out ruled any rational, reasonable request to leave a case unsolved due to it's dangerous nature. She was sure to hear the same lengthy, prepared speech she heard every time she went home and told him about a new case. Though, to be perfectly fair, she could be investigating the price inflation of fruit in supermarkets, and her boyfriend would still warn her that an orange, thrown at the right trajectory, could be deadly.

Overprotective ... I don't think the word is quite enough ...

Chloe let thoughts of her personal life drift from her mind as she turned the page of the folder. She saw pictures of the crime scene, though none had the victim's body. Obviously, the pictures were taken days after the crime, and by a photographer at the Planet. By the style alone, she had a good suspicion as to the author of the photographs. Quality and authorship aside, the pictures did show the place and depiction of the crime. With enough imagination, and with enough available evidence, a good reporter could almost see the actions of both the criminal and the victim unfold in front of their eyes. More like a sixth sense of sorts, it was a talent Chloe had only recently developed.

While she played out the entire crime in her head, from the moment the woman stepped out of her car until her last, strangled gasp for help, Chloe neglected to hear the sound of footsteps behind her. She spent many nights alone in the Daily Planet basement, and very few of them were spent with anyone else but herself.

Tonight, however, was an exception.

Chloe studied the images closer, and with a keen sense of awareness, she could almost feel the attacker stalking the woman. Maybe he followed her home on foot, or even by car, which he hid in the woods so as not to spook her too soon. So consumed by her current problem, the woman never suspected the pure evil hidden within the brush, watching her every move with round, beady yellow eyes. Nor did she fully grasp the foul stench of death in the air.

It took an extra second before Chloe saw the sudden appearance of a hand on her shoulder. It took an even longer second for her to realize she was supposed to be alone. And it took longer yet for her to react with a tiny scream.

"Oh my God!" Chloe gasped as she turned and fell back into her chair.

The woman behind her smiled in amusement. "Chloe ... serves you right for working so late."

Chloe breathed in deeply, placing a hand over her heart to help stop its rapid thump. Her initial fear drained from her face, only to be replaced with embarrassment. How could she forget she worked half the night with one of her best friends at the Planet?

"Julie, you're going to lose your life one day if you keep sneaking up on people like that," Chloe warned lightly, returning her gaze to the photographs on her desk.

"Not any time soon. I'm young. I've got time to test the waters a bit."

Chloe smirked and took a photograph of one of the suspects out from underneath the large pile. "By experience, I know the waters can drown you faster than a tsunami."

Julie peered over her friend's shoulder and grimaced. "Putting in overtime?"

"Hmm ... overtime suggests I receive income, which I don't," she replied wryly. "No, for the search of truth and justice - and my future at the Planet - I stay here out of the goodness of my heart."

"What does your boyfriend think of your long hours? Doesn't give you much time for the physical aspect of a relationship."

Chloe hid her blush behind an easy shrug. "Jimmy only complains about the danger, not the hours."

"True," Julie conceded knowingly. "He probably has no reason to complain about the latter. When you two are finally together, you really take advantage of it."

This time the blush on Chloe's face could not be stopped. Since her relationship with Jimmy began three months ago, they've had sex only twice. The first time was pleasurable, but mainly an encore of the awkwardness they experienced during the summer they spent together back in high school. However, the second time was far better, which proved to Chloe that practice made a difference.

"It only happened a few times," Chloe defended softly. Jimmy had quickly become familiar and comfortable, and someone she could trust intimately. So giving into him only a month into their relationship felt incredibly easy, and even right. She did like him. Love didn't seem quite the appropriate word to describe her feelings, mostly because she knew what loving someone truly felt like. Nevertheless, she wanted to move on with Jimmy. She wanted to love him, and she wanted to believe her thoughts would soon shift from the clumsy, midwestern farm boy to the new photographer at the Daily Planet.

Because apparently farm boys and passionate kisses didn't mix well.

"Wait until you're married. Then you won't have to explain your need for sex," Julie mused.

"It's not like that."

"Really?"

"Of course not," Chloe said, awed her friend would even suggest she would be so inconsiderate. "I like Jimmy."

Julie walked to the right of Chloe to gaze at the photographs on her desk. The photograph directly on top of the large pile captured the spot on the road where the woman's body was found that night. Immediately an eerily, queasy feeling churned Julie's stomach into knots. Just the thought of cannibalism made both her body and soul turn ice cold, and she feared for her friend.

"Sex or not, please heed Jimmy's advice. Watch your back while you're doing this case."

Chloe noticed the tint of green in her friend's features and closed the file. "Don't worry. I have someone who does it for me."

"Jimmy?"

"No," she said quietly, reverently. "Someone else entirely."

Julie almost asked the identity of the person she meant, but bit back the question when she remembered Chloe's best friend. From stories alone, Julie knew Clark and Chloe had survived a lot together, and especially in this past year. By just hearing the story, Julie was sure the likely climax would find Clark and Chloe finally in a long awaited relationship with one another. Instead Chloe was with Jimmy, and Julie really didn't know why, which was the reason why she drilled her friend with so many questions.

But in the end, she always let it go. Chloe's life was her own, and, over all, she did seem happy.

"Well, unfortunately, I have to leave you finally. My husband can only stand so many late nights," Julie said.

Chloe smiled. "Tell him just to blame the psycho reporter investigating X-file cases on a regular basis. I'm sure he'll understand."

"Thanks, I'll do that," she said wryly, and walked over to the coat rack next to the far door. Julie snagged her jacket from the rack and slipped it on, then slid her purse over her shoulder. "See you tomorrow."

"Have a good night," Chloe called. She watched as her friend smiled back warmly in return and walked out of the small newsroom, leaving Chloe alone in the basement. With an exhausted sigh, she grabbed the file from her desk and decided her time to leave had come, as well. She liked late nights, but the fourth one in a row had become far too much for her aching body to handle.

All she wanted now was to go home, take a nice, hot bath, and call Jimmy to tell him about her day. The routine always helped her sleep.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Julie couldn't believe it.

After she had left the Daily Planet, she walked down four city blocks to reach her car, a used Saturn Vue, which she parked in the CVS Pharmacy parking lot every day. The streets she walked night after night were not safe, though she never had a problem. A few instances her heart rate tripled when she saw a shady form snuggled in a dark alley, or when she narrowly escaped the sexually aroused stares from gang members who often loitered the street corners late at night. Much to her surprise, though in such a crime-infested city, her travel home after work was always uneventful.

Until now.

The drive home always took around twenty minutes through light traffic. When she married her husband, they found a nice little house just outside the city in a small suburb called Black Creek. Though the decision to buy the house was an easy one to make, her husband still fretted about the drive to work Julie would have to make everyday. The freeways were always packed with cars, and dangerous because of hotwire motorists trying to make it to work on time. At night, though the traffic was less, the drive was fairly worse due to a stretch of road that looked more like a vacant country highway than a byway to and from a city. Because very few people lived in their small neighborhood, the road was often quite bare.

Thanks to her luck, Julie's car blew a flat right in the middle of the vacant road leading home. She had only a few miles to go before she could climb into bed with her husband, safe and sound in his arms. Having never broken down before, Julie was unsure of the protocol to find help. First she called her husband at home, but only their answering machine picked up. Strange, she thought as she pressed the end button on her cell phone. He always waits for me until I get home. He must be worried, right?

Julie decided to call their Auto Club next. Better to call someone she knew would answer. And in two rings, a nice, young woman picked up on the other end. Julie quickly told her of the situation, and also described her location. The woman reassured her someone was on the way, and to sit tight until the Auto Club member arrived. Satisfied, she turned her cell phone off and sat in the car for a few, silent minutes. Because the Auto Club resided in Metropolis, it would take an extra an extra minute or so for them to reach her.

If only my husband had answered. Then I'd probably be home right now.

Against her better judgment, Julie vacated the car and walked around a little to stretch her legs. She ran a casual hand through her short, blonde hair and stared out at her surroundings draped over by the cold night. Houses sat on her left, though they were driven far too deep into the woods for anyone to see her. If she screamed they probably wouldn't hear her very well, either. On the other side of the road grew a thick patch of woods. It stretched for only a few miles, so dense in the middle, yet thinned greatly as it reached the city limits. No houses resided on this side, though she had heard of local contractors recently buying the land. Metropolis was growing fast, and the woods around it were sure to dissolve very soon.

The temperature dropped below forty degrees, and Julie could clearly feel the change. October weather in Metropolis was always cold, though it rarely snowed this early. At the moment, as she breathed in the nostalgic aroma of a wood burning stove in the distance, she wondered if the city might actually see a record snowfall. She could almost smell the formation of snowflakes in the brisk, winter-like air.

Then she heard it. A distant grumble of a sort - something between a soft roar and an angry groan. Brisk wind whipped by her ears, and for a short while she considered it might have been a barking dog in the distance, begging for it's owner to let it back inside. And as silence settled upon her, she was certain the latter seemed more plausible than anything else.

Yet the sound came again, and this time much louder. Her heart rate sped up with the same fear she often harbored while walking the city streets at night. Instinctively she wrapped her arms around herself and did a quick scan of the surrounding area. Everything seemed quite still, with just the touch of a chilly breeze traveling through the trees. Quietly she prayed the Auto Club would arrive incredibly soon, or, better yet, that her husband would drive by and notice her dire situation.

A strange rush of terrified adrenaline surged through her body when the rustle in the bushes behind her became a bit more violent. She fought the urge to run, and instead glanced over her shoulder into the dark shadows of the woods, expecting to find a person or a shadow. But only the gentle breeze swayed the tumble weeds close to the road, and the more she stared, the more certain she felt her fear was a result of her own imagination. And, of course, because she looked at those damn pictures on Chloe's desk.

That's right, it's just those pictures, and this stupid case Chloe is working on. I scare easily ... I know I do.

Nevertheless, the good feelings she struggled to grow didn't last very long, because the strong sense that something was terribly wrong outweighed everything else. Suddenly her mind began to whirl like a tornado, and she turned again from left to right for the source of her innermost fear. There had to be a reason, and more than just the casual glance at a few murder photographs. Something out there, hidden in the brush and lost in the dark hole of true horror, lurked closer to her every second, and arose her instinct for fight or flight.

Maybe I should run ... maybe I should go to those houses up there, she considered quickly, but the houses might as well have been ten miles away rather than only a few. To travel to them might put her in more danger, because she would be exposed to far more than just a creepy feeling on a dark, country road. It was better to stay put and wait for the Auto Club to arrive.

They'll fix my car; take me home, and tomorrow morning I'll be laughing at how scared I was.

But the cause for hope in Julie's heart began to fade the moment she heard the footsteps, and their relentless click sent a string of dread directly to her soul. She struggled to catch her breath as her lungs burned helplessly in the October air, desperate for oxygen to supply her body with energy and to meet the demand of her pounding heart. Her skin blossomed with goose bumps from head-to-toe, and her nerves trickled with anxiety.

Her car door was only a few feet away, and suddenly she realized she did have some protection. If she could just make it to the door before the footsteps drew closer, she could be safe within the confines of her vehicle. But even as she summoned her plan of action, the click on the concrete road grew louder in each second of silence. Julie closed her eyes and longed for a car to pass by, any car to scare away whatever hunted her. It would be easy then, because she could turn and see nothing behind her. Turn and discover all she experienced was merely a fantasy, and the direct result of finding interest in her friend's hobbies.

And before she had a second to think, Julie pushed aside her fear and ran to the car door, then opened it quickly. Instinctively, she turned to look at her assailant as she began to climb back into her vehicle --

Nothing.

Julie's pent up adrenaline drained from her pores and limbs, as the relief quickly washed through her system. Her mind began to rationalize her fearful thoughts, and before long the horror deep inside disappeared. The world returned to normal, and the breeze in the trees became beautiful again.

Then she screamed. Her eyes bulged out as pain surged through her neck, down through her shoulders and chest, and her throat choked on blood. Her blood ... blood from something piercing her neck. She tasted copper on her lips, heard the loud crunch of bone as her mind finally realized exactly what was happening. Everything blurred, her surroundings only colorful masses of light in front of her eyes. And the houses she considered running to for safety dropped out of focus.

For a split second the pain was unbearable. She could almost feel her body falling helplessly to the concrete road below, surrendered completely to its fate. The presence of her attacker hovered over her as a dark, round mass, it's outline highlighted only by the orange glow of a streetlight further down the street. It barely gave her wakefulness any attention, because it had already collected the reason that brought it here. For a terrifying moment she sensed it's unsympathetic satisfaction while its sharp teeth sunk deep into her midsection, it's purpose now painfully clear.

Above her, the sliver of the moon swirled in blood red, and the face of her husband drifted to the front of her mind. Because she knew what was coming, and responsively her body suddenly turned completely numb, unable to fight any longer. Numb to the pain, to the moon, the tug of forgiving death finally and mercifully took its hold.

Then everything went black.

00000000000000000

to be continued ...