Chapter 3

The town was deserted. Nobody dared to walk around anymore. Life in Smallville had become nothing more than staying at home and going to school. Although going to school was as big a risk as any. That was another factor for the streets being so empty. So many families had moved so that they didn't have to be afraid. But a few had been stubborn and stayed. And even though most of them were either old farmers or kids that had let their parents go without them, nobody walked in this street. It was the worst.

Of course Clark knew none of this. He walked down the road that he used to travel down everyday without a clue as to what could happen.

"Don't move!" Came a shout from behind him. He spun around to meet the shouter, but before her knew it he was trapped behind a glowing green net, that stuck into the ground, forcing him to stay still. Of course he wouldn't have been able to move anyway. The pain that ran through him caused him to gasp for air - the shock had taken him of guard.

"I told you not to move, you bastard," The same familiar voice shouted. He tried desperately to remember.

"Guys, it's really him," she shouted to people he couldn't see. He fought the urge to fall into sleep, needing to know what the hell was going on.

Finally the four people came into vision. It was Pete, Lana, Eric Summers, and Kyle Tippit. But Eric was supposed to be locked away. and Kyle had left Smallville. Clark didn't understand.

"No, this feels too easy. He must have something up his sleeve," Pete said sceptically.

"Speak up," Lana told Clark.

"I. I. I'm not who you think I am," Clark managed to get out before the sleep finally came over him and everything faded to blackness.

* * * * *

The boy lay in bed asleep. His dreams had haunted him since he had come to this town. Nothing could get rid of them.

A red truck. an explosion. Running through fields. a sharp pain in between his shoulder blades. Then being the most terrified he had ever been

^^^^^^^^^^

The boy was walking about the house of those who had just died when he heard the door creak open.

"Here, sit down Mr Kent," said a scratchy male voice. The boy peaked his head from behind the door and watched the three people in the room.

"Mr Luthor, I appreciate your help but I'm perfectly fine. I just want to get to my wife," Jonathon told him.

"Your wife is in good hands now. Just let them worry about it," He reassured the shocked man.

Suddenly the boy cowered against the door as he was spotted by the third person. It was a boy a few years older than him who seemed to have lost all his hair. But the boy didn't look shocked or worried. He smiled at the boy and his eyes glowed red. Suddenly, on impulse, the boy sped at the other, picking him up in his arms and carrying him away. The two adults stared after them. They were just able to make out the shape of a young boy.

Jonathon turned to Mr Luthor, a dark look in his eyes. "That's the boy that hurt my wife."

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