Chapter 4

Lex lifted the cool heavy hand gun and it extended it smoothly. Like a man who handles a gun daily he squeezed the trigger, one-two-three-four-five-six. The bullets hit the hideous black worms of his intruder's face. The only signs of their passing were transient holes that vanished almost as quickly as they formed. There were nine bullets still in his clip but Lex stopped firing. "Not even the courtesy to bleed? What are you?"

"I BeliEve You'LL finD yOUr FriENd at a pLace CalleD the FOUndrY. dO sAVe hiM fOr me."

Lex could have sworn the thing grinned despite not having lips. Then it slipped back into the shadows. Smallville had quite typically slipped back into the Twilight Zone, and Clark appeared to be up to his neck in the latest mess. He really wasn't the suicide type, but when bizarre shadow hopping monsters were involved, it was best to play it safe. Lex hit his intercom. "Sylvia, I need an address on the nearest foundry, either operational or out of business."

There was a brief delay before she replied. "I think Smallville had a foundry up until the meteor shower. The place was hit pretty hard, and they closed the doors. It will take a second, but I can pull the address."

"Make it quick," Lex said. "It could be a matter of life or death." His eyes strayed to the corner of his office and the shadow that had swallowed his intruder. A fresh chill climbed his back. i rEAd thE DEcisIOn iN HIs minD, wHilE I waS fEEdinG on hIs SOul. What the Hell had Clark gotten himself into this time. "Clear my calendar for the day, and call me on the cell phone when you have the address."


Martha watched Jonathan move around the kitchen, grabbing up his keys and coat. He met her nervous gaze and smiled reassuringly. "What's the game plan," he said.

"You're going to cruise the spread. I'm going to call everyone we know," Martha said. She met Jonathan's earnest blue eyes and let his strength wash against her worry. He always made her feel like a rock, solid and in control. She sometimes wondered if he drew the same strength from her. "Clark's fine isn't he."

I hope so. "Of course he is," Jonathan said. "There isn't any reason to panic."

Martha didn't wait to watch Jonathan leave. She headed to the kitchen phone to get started with her half of the "game plan". Her hand was just over the receiver when the phone rang. Martha jumped and threw her hand over her heart. "Clark..." It had to be him. She snatched up the phone. "Hello."

"Mrs. Kent, it's Lex. I need to speak with Clark. It's an emergency."

"I'm sorry. Clark's not here." She hoped that Lex couldn't hear the disappointment in her voice. She been so sure it was Clark. Well, at least this was one call she wouldn't have to make. "Jonathan and I are actually trying to locate Clark. Have you seen him recently?"

Lex grimaced and mashed the accelerator to the floor. That was not a good sign. There was no reason to panic Mrs. Kent with tales about shadow monsters, yet. She'd probably just think he was insane and seeing things. "Sorry Mrs. Kent, I haven't seen Clark in days. Is anything wrong?"

"No, just your typical teenage mini-rebellion, I think. He didn't come home last night." The lie didn't ring true in Martha's ears. It would be so much easier if that statement was a little more plausible, but Clark just wasn't the type, except when under the influence of mood altering rocks.

Typical and Clark, two words that were never meant to coexist in a sentence. "I'll let him know that he's in deep trouble if I see him. Have him give me a call if he comes home." Lex clicked his phone shut. "Here's hoping I don't see him, at least not at this foundry."


Dark and damp, the foundry was a perfect playhouse, at least that's what Pete and Greg thought when they were kids. There were places to climb and hide. There was mud to build with. Clark generally agreed with their assessment, except for the fact that he always got sick sooner or later. Now he understood where that childhood weakness came from. He understood it, and he was ready to use it.

Clark paused outside the entrance to the old factory and leaned against the rusty doorframe. "I can't do this. I don't want to die. It would kill mom and dad. They'll never understand." He stepped away from the wall and his suicide plan. But what if it came back again... Clark could still remember what the blood had tasted like, how the metallic tang had lingered. The image of the dead people in his dreams, their empty chests, still lingered in his mind's eye. He pulled out his dream journal, now missing its cover and the pages his mother had tried to reattach.

With a shaking hand, Clark tried to put into words, the reason he was about to walk into the foundry and cuddle up with the closest meteor rock.

yoU doN't want TO dO tHis. dEAth is QuitE peRmanenT.

Clark felt the pencil crush under his suddenly tense hand. "I'm not going to hurt anyone. I'm not. I'll do what it takes to stop you, me." Stepping inside the foundry, into the dark, Clark suddenly felt weaker, sleepy. He stumbled to the nearest pile of rubble and started digging until he was rewarded by a cascade of glowing green rocks.

Gritting his teeth against the waves of pain those rocks provoked, Clark shoved a couple of the stones into his jeans pockets.

yoU aRe a DAmn FooL. You'RE killiNG mY cHOSen VESSEL. mY veSSel.

Clark could hear the voice and its angry protestations. Tears were leaking from his eyes, and he gritted his teeth against the self-inflicted agony that was ripping him apart at the cellular level. "MY vessel," Clark hissed. "My choice."


Brutally violent, grotesque, Jonathan couldn't find the right adjective for the mutilated cows he found in the south pasture. The flies and buzzards were already at work, and the animals' bodies were beginning to bloat in the warm morning air. Jonathan stepped into the carnage, one thought running through his head. Anything that could take down an entire herd of cattle before the majority stampeded out of danger was formidable. Anything that would do this probably wouldn't think twice about attacking a kid like Clark.

Jonathan could see Clark facing the unknown monster, defending the cows. What if he was hurt? What if he was lying in this field somewhere? He started running, scanning for anything that might be Clark. "Clark!" Jonathan called. He screamed again and again at the top of his lungs.

His voice broke, and Jonathan dropped to one knee, trying to catch his breath. In a puddle of drying blood, a pink-stained spiral notebook cover stared up at him - an innocent little thing that just didn't belong here. He reached down and traced the two words on the warped paper, Dream Journal. Clark had been here, most likely faced whatever did this.

But where was he now?

New urgency filled him, and Jonathan headed back to the truck. He needed to check in with Martha. Hopefully she'd found Clark and he was worrying for nothing. Besides, it was time to call the police. Whatever had started this wasn't going to get away with the mutilation of those cows. It most definitely was going to answer to the whereabouts of his son.


The access road to the old foundry was overgrown with brambles and honeysuckle. If Sylvia hadn't come up with a detailed set of directions, Lex never would have found the turn. As it was, he'd had to abandon his car a hundred feet back from the actual building. The place looked like the kind of place you'd shoot a B class horror flick. Was it possible that Clark was in there doing himself harm?

Lex made his way through the door, blinking at the shadows until he could see properly. "Clark? Anyone here?" Lex coughed against the thick moldy smell of the air and took a couple of steps in. This was crazy. Clark wasn't...

Lex saw the blue flannel first. Sprawled in a pile of glowing meteor rocks, Clark was lying motionless. "Jesus." This was not happening. Suicide? Lex rushed over to his friend's side. No blood, no blood anywhere... Lex ran his hands over Clark looking for a wound. "Wake up, Clark." Lex shook at Clark's shoulders. "Wake up and tell me what you took, you stupid son of a... Clark."

Clark winced at the voice pulling him back from the oblivion that freed him from pain. He could see Lex over him, yelling at him, shaking him. How had Lex found him? God it hurt, like a thousand microscopic needles were piercing his every cell. "I don't want to die," Clark whispered.

"Tell me what you took. You'll be okay," Lex said. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed 911. "No signal." He had taken two steps toward the exit before the multitude of shadows gave him pause. The thing, Maggot-face, liked shadows. Leaving Clark in here alone wasn't a viable option. "Can you walk? If I help you, can you walk?"

Clark couldn't find the breath to answer. The air was too thick, suffocating. Lex didn't understand what was killing him. He didn't know how to help. Maybe it was better that way. Clark had chickened out in his heart, but Lex didn't know how to stop what he'd started.

"I'm going to have to drag you, buddy. Help if you can." Lex tossed his tailored Italian jacket into the dirt and hooked his hands under Clark's armpits. "You're going to be fine."

Lex managed a slow jarring shuffle over the uneven foundry floor. Once out in the sun, he dropped to the ground next to Clark. "Stay with me. I'm calling the ambulance."

"hE doeSn't nEEd an AmbulaNce. FisH thE roCKS oUt oF his POckeTs aNd he'LL bE jUst fine. ODD tHat ROckS hUrt hiM SO."

Lex scanned the clearing, trying to locate the owner of the voice. "Keep your distance," Lex called. He pulled out his gun and extended it toward the empty woods. Sure the gun hadn't helped last time, but it was all Lex had for defense.

"i'LL seE yOu thiS EveNing geNtlemeN."

Lex waited tensely for several seconds, but the voice appeared to be gone. He replaced the gun in his pocket and turned back to Clark. As of yet, maggot-face hadn't lied about a thing. Instead of immediately calling the ambulance, he reached into Clark's pocket and pulled out a glowing green meteor rock. His hand was trembling just slightly and he dropped the stone. It landed on Clark's arm. The skin grayed and twitched under the rock. Clark's veins darkened until they were almost black and bulged under his skin. Lex snatched the meteor rock away.

Quickly, he went through Clark's pockets removing the meteor rocks as he went. Then, one by one he threw them back through the foundry's entrance. It was amazing how quickly Clark recovered. His skin went from gray back to his normal tan and his breaths lengthened and quieted. For the first time since Lex had found him, Clark met his eyes. "Why did you do it? You saved my life."

"Why did I do it? Why did you do it? You just tried to kill yourself with meteor rocks, not a gun or a noose or even a bottle of pills. Hell, you tried to KILL yourself. What's going on in your head?"

Clark laughed hollowly and pushed himself into a sitting position. "It's really funny, but I've always been deathly allergic to meteor rocks. It seemed like a nice quiet out of the way method to..."

Clark's odd allergy to meteor rocks didn't distract Lex from the important part of what was being said. "To kill yourself," Lex snapped. "Suicide is cowardly, Clark. It's cowardly and selfish. Can you even imagine what would have happened to your parents if you succeeded? What about your friends, me, Chloe, Pete?"

"I did it for them. If I don't do something, I'm gonna hurt someone, maybe you or mom or dad, maybe the whole damn town. I'm going crazy Lex. This is me, teetering on the edge of insanity. If you could just hear the voice that's been ringing inside my head, you'd understand," Clark half-yelled. Tears had stared to slip down his cheeks and he looked away from Lex's disapproving stare.

Maggot-face, Lex reminded himself. Clark wasn't acting out of his own motivations. That thing had him convinced he was some kind of menace to society. "I don't know what's going on inside your brain, but it didn't originate there. You see, I know about your boogey-man. He paid me a visit this morning."

"That's not possible. I'm the only one who can hear him," Clark whispered.

"How do you think I found you? This boogey-man wants to keep you alive. There has to be a better way to beat him, than suicide, okay," Lex said. "Let me help you."

God, it felt good to share this burden with someone, and have that person validate your story, assure you that you weren't crazy. Clark had never wanted anyone to be right more than he wanted Lex to be in that moment. "I'll try to fight him, and I'll let you help, but you have to take a meteor rock and you have to keep it with you for protection, okay?"

Lex patted the gun in his pocket and shook his head. "Protection? They make you that sick? If it will make you feel better, I'll take one, but you aren't going to hurt me Clark. You're going to beat this."

"If I don't beat this, whatever it is. You can't let him win. Lex, promise you won't let him use me to hurt anyone. Swear it."

"I won't let him win, Clark. I swear."

Author's Note:

Dark fics are such fun. **grin** As always, be brutal, be honest. Tell me what you think.

If you aren't reading The Lost and you haven't heard my long winded, hello-I-missed-you-guys, then let me just say it succinctly. It's good to be back in the saddle. I missed this place :)

The new computer is a champ. I already bought him a sticker and I'm leaning toward the name Buzz. (I name everything... well maybe not everything but many things.)