Chapter 3
Jonathon cocked the rifle and checked the sights. He laid it carefully on the table and went into the kitchen for a glass of milk. Nothing's getting on this farm without answering to me.
Clark came down the stairs and spotted the rifle. "Dad? Why do you have the gun out?"
Jonathon hesitated, "Just...cleaning it."
Clark used his x-ray vision and inspected the rifle. "While it was loaded?"
Jonathon sighed. "Clark...I was loading the gun so I could stand guard tonight. If that beast tries to come back on our farm, it's gonna' be hell. I knew you would –"
"Try to stop you?" finished Clark. He picked up the gun and went to put it away. When he returned, he looked a bit calmer. "If you want to make sure the animals are all right, why don't you just let me stand guard?"
"You're a teenager. You have to get some sleep."
"I don't need sleep nearly as much as you do. Please, there's less of a chance anyone will get hurt if I stand guard."
"No, I –"
"Dad!"
Jonathon sighed again. "All right. But try to do your chores for tomorrow while you're up."
"Absolutely," Clark smiled. Jonathon forced a smile of his own and took a cookie with him upstairs.
* * *
Dear God, I am such an idiot, thought Clark. It had been raining sheets of pounding rain for hours now. He checked his watch. It was 3:46 A.M. He hoped that it meant the predator wouldn't bother to come since it was so late.
Clark curled himself up into a fetal position and looked sadly at the sky. The clouds obscured his view of the stars, one of Clark's favorite things to look at.
But for an odd reason, there was an opening in the clouds that revealed the bright moon. It was beautiful, yes, but it could not nearly hope to match the beauty of a sky of tiny dots that represented balls of gas and heat much larger than they appeared in the sky. One of those stars was his home. Or had been.
From what he'd gathered last year from Doctor Virgil Swann, he was the last of an advanced race; a society that lived on the planet Krypton. He'd also learned that his alien name was Kal-El – and he'd even used the guise "Kal" when he had run away to Metropolis over the summer. Not one of the finer moments in my life...
He also learned that he was supposedly destined to rule Earth. Remembering that detail alone made him more determined to stand in the rain and watch out for the stalker. He would prove his destiny wrong.
AWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
Was that a wolf? The last wolf in Smallville had turned out to be a brief romantic interest.
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrr-rrroowwwlllllllllllll!
Yes, that was definitely a wolf growl, but where was it coming from?
Before Clark could contemplate the answer, he was assaulted from behind by a heavy figure. It snarled, hissed, and breathed down his neck. He could even feel the sickening cold drool fall down his spine as it oozed out of the wolf's mouth.
In a blur, Clark spun around quickly until the wolf lost its hold on him. Shocked, the wolf retreated into the darkness. Clark switched to x-ray vision in hopes of spotting the beast through all the rain.
Instead, the wolf knocked him down again. His face landed in a pond of mud, obscuring his vision, but he didn't worry about his dying dignity. The wolf was pummeling his fists (fists?) repeatedly into Clark's back and – and they hurt!
Clark twisted his body around just enough so he could grab the wolf's arm. Forcing himself to his feet, Clark hurled the wolf as far away as possible, which was out of even his vision.
The image of the wolf in the air was what shocked him: he had arms. His head was human-like. He basically looked like a human with a lot of hair. What the –?
Adding a burst of super speed, Clark ran to the spot where the wolf (man-wolf?) had landed. He glanced around, but saw nothing. He turned around once more and saw the wolf charge him.
His claws hit him first. Clark could feel the sharp claws tear through his jacket, through his shirt, and through his skin. Blood gushed out of his open wound and bled like Niagra Falls, staining the grass in a magnificent display of red. Clark thought he screamed, but the pain overwhelmed him so much he couldn't hear the snarl of his attacker even.
Before his eyes (after they cleared), Clark watched the wolf go from a normal looking wolf – four legged, snout, ears on the top of skull – to the man-like wolf he had seen minutes before. This "man-wolf" leaned in to bite Clark's neck.
Then time seemed to stop.
Clark had entered his super-speed mode where he could think as fast as he could move. Frantically, Clark searched the area around him.
They were in the meadow where Clark had stood testing his powers two days ago. And as luck would have it, the pile of rubble he'd left was right beside his skull. Thinking fast, Clark used his mouth to pick up a rock. Facing the wolf, Clark inhaled through his nose deeply and spit out the rock directly into its eye.
The wolf howled in pain and loosened his grip on Clark. Taking advantage, Clark kicked the wolf man off and got up. He backed a meter away and looked at the wolf man. He was still reeling in pain and caressing his eye. He felt pity for the wolf briefly, but then remembered the slaughter of the cow. Clark aimed at the ground around the wolf man and fired his heat vision.
A blazing wall of fire burst around the wolf man. To Clark's dismay, the rain almost immediately extinguished it. Smart move, idiot, Clark thought to himself. The wolf man even appeared to laugh. Still, the ground around him had become hot, and the wolf man did not seem to like that. He couched down low and jumped into the air, possibly higher than even Clark could jump.
The wolf man landed yards away from Clark, paused, and jumped again – this time focusing more on the distance he covered than the height of his jump. Clark looked on in awe before snapping out of the brief trance and giving chase.
Realizing he couldn't jump away, the wolf man transformed back into a normal wolf and began to run. He ran faster than was possible for any earthly canine, but then, Clark wasn't exactly earthly himself. He found himself challenged.
They ran down Hickory Lane and an amazing speed. At the end of the road, the wolf veered right, then left, and then right again. After a few more turns, Clark completely lost sense of direction.
The chase ended in the worse place possible for Clark to have imagined.
The Luthor mansion.
* * *
Lex Luthor swore aloud. The "project" that Lionel had handed over to him was nothing more than a new deal proposing a new brand of fertilizer. All Lex would have to do was see that it got to the LuthorCorp researchers and make sure they found a suitable formula.
CRASH! A figure broke through his window. What the hell was someone doing out at four in the morning? Of course, someone could have asked the same thing of Lex, but the dark circles under his eyes and the empty bottle of Scotch indicated that he wasn't up by choice.
The figure was hairy, to say the least. At the end of his fingers were the sharpest fingernails Lex had ever seen. They resembled claws.
The next thing Lex knew, the figure was on top of him, spilling saliva all over his expensive new shirt. A searing hot pain slashed through the side of his cheek, effectively knocking him unconscious from the overwhelming of pain. Next, the wolf man would bite him. Yes, a feast at last!
He opened his mouth, revealing his large fangs, and just as he punctured the skin on his chest, he could feel two strong hands pull him away. Still, the damage was done. Blood slowly dripped down Lex's shirt.
Frustrated, the wolf man slashed again at Clark, who foresaw the move and caught his arms. Carrying the wolf man, Clark walked over to the window and tossed him far, far away.
Then, Clark turned to attend to his friend. Blood had splattered all over some important-looking documents, not to mention Lex's clothes, but when Clark checked the wound, he found that it had already sealed – leaving only a strange scar.
Jonathon cocked the rifle and checked the sights. He laid it carefully on the table and went into the kitchen for a glass of milk. Nothing's getting on this farm without answering to me.
Clark came down the stairs and spotted the rifle. "Dad? Why do you have the gun out?"
Jonathon hesitated, "Just...cleaning it."
Clark used his x-ray vision and inspected the rifle. "While it was loaded?"
Jonathon sighed. "Clark...I was loading the gun so I could stand guard tonight. If that beast tries to come back on our farm, it's gonna' be hell. I knew you would –"
"Try to stop you?" finished Clark. He picked up the gun and went to put it away. When he returned, he looked a bit calmer. "If you want to make sure the animals are all right, why don't you just let me stand guard?"
"You're a teenager. You have to get some sleep."
"I don't need sleep nearly as much as you do. Please, there's less of a chance anyone will get hurt if I stand guard."
"No, I –"
"Dad!"
Jonathon sighed again. "All right. But try to do your chores for tomorrow while you're up."
"Absolutely," Clark smiled. Jonathon forced a smile of his own and took a cookie with him upstairs.
* * *
Dear God, I am such an idiot, thought Clark. It had been raining sheets of pounding rain for hours now. He checked his watch. It was 3:46 A.M. He hoped that it meant the predator wouldn't bother to come since it was so late.
Clark curled himself up into a fetal position and looked sadly at the sky. The clouds obscured his view of the stars, one of Clark's favorite things to look at.
But for an odd reason, there was an opening in the clouds that revealed the bright moon. It was beautiful, yes, but it could not nearly hope to match the beauty of a sky of tiny dots that represented balls of gas and heat much larger than they appeared in the sky. One of those stars was his home. Or had been.
From what he'd gathered last year from Doctor Virgil Swann, he was the last of an advanced race; a society that lived on the planet Krypton. He'd also learned that his alien name was Kal-El – and he'd even used the guise "Kal" when he had run away to Metropolis over the summer. Not one of the finer moments in my life...
He also learned that he was supposedly destined to rule Earth. Remembering that detail alone made him more determined to stand in the rain and watch out for the stalker. He would prove his destiny wrong.
AWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
Was that a wolf? The last wolf in Smallville had turned out to be a brief romantic interest.
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrr-rrroowwwlllllllllllll!
Yes, that was definitely a wolf growl, but where was it coming from?
Before Clark could contemplate the answer, he was assaulted from behind by a heavy figure. It snarled, hissed, and breathed down his neck. He could even feel the sickening cold drool fall down his spine as it oozed out of the wolf's mouth.
In a blur, Clark spun around quickly until the wolf lost its hold on him. Shocked, the wolf retreated into the darkness. Clark switched to x-ray vision in hopes of spotting the beast through all the rain.
Instead, the wolf knocked him down again. His face landed in a pond of mud, obscuring his vision, but he didn't worry about his dying dignity. The wolf was pummeling his fists (fists?) repeatedly into Clark's back and – and they hurt!
Clark twisted his body around just enough so he could grab the wolf's arm. Forcing himself to his feet, Clark hurled the wolf as far away as possible, which was out of even his vision.
The image of the wolf in the air was what shocked him: he had arms. His head was human-like. He basically looked like a human with a lot of hair. What the –?
Adding a burst of super speed, Clark ran to the spot where the wolf (man-wolf?) had landed. He glanced around, but saw nothing. He turned around once more and saw the wolf charge him.
His claws hit him first. Clark could feel the sharp claws tear through his jacket, through his shirt, and through his skin. Blood gushed out of his open wound and bled like Niagra Falls, staining the grass in a magnificent display of red. Clark thought he screamed, but the pain overwhelmed him so much he couldn't hear the snarl of his attacker even.
Before his eyes (after they cleared), Clark watched the wolf go from a normal looking wolf – four legged, snout, ears on the top of skull – to the man-like wolf he had seen minutes before. This "man-wolf" leaned in to bite Clark's neck.
Then time seemed to stop.
Clark had entered his super-speed mode where he could think as fast as he could move. Frantically, Clark searched the area around him.
They were in the meadow where Clark had stood testing his powers two days ago. And as luck would have it, the pile of rubble he'd left was right beside his skull. Thinking fast, Clark used his mouth to pick up a rock. Facing the wolf, Clark inhaled through his nose deeply and spit out the rock directly into its eye.
The wolf howled in pain and loosened his grip on Clark. Taking advantage, Clark kicked the wolf man off and got up. He backed a meter away and looked at the wolf man. He was still reeling in pain and caressing his eye. He felt pity for the wolf briefly, but then remembered the slaughter of the cow. Clark aimed at the ground around the wolf man and fired his heat vision.
A blazing wall of fire burst around the wolf man. To Clark's dismay, the rain almost immediately extinguished it. Smart move, idiot, Clark thought to himself. The wolf man even appeared to laugh. Still, the ground around him had become hot, and the wolf man did not seem to like that. He couched down low and jumped into the air, possibly higher than even Clark could jump.
The wolf man landed yards away from Clark, paused, and jumped again – this time focusing more on the distance he covered than the height of his jump. Clark looked on in awe before snapping out of the brief trance and giving chase.
Realizing he couldn't jump away, the wolf man transformed back into a normal wolf and began to run. He ran faster than was possible for any earthly canine, but then, Clark wasn't exactly earthly himself. He found himself challenged.
They ran down Hickory Lane and an amazing speed. At the end of the road, the wolf veered right, then left, and then right again. After a few more turns, Clark completely lost sense of direction.
The chase ended in the worse place possible for Clark to have imagined.
The Luthor mansion.
* * *
Lex Luthor swore aloud. The "project" that Lionel had handed over to him was nothing more than a new deal proposing a new brand of fertilizer. All Lex would have to do was see that it got to the LuthorCorp researchers and make sure they found a suitable formula.
CRASH! A figure broke through his window. What the hell was someone doing out at four in the morning? Of course, someone could have asked the same thing of Lex, but the dark circles under his eyes and the empty bottle of Scotch indicated that he wasn't up by choice.
The figure was hairy, to say the least. At the end of his fingers were the sharpest fingernails Lex had ever seen. They resembled claws.
The next thing Lex knew, the figure was on top of him, spilling saliva all over his expensive new shirt. A searing hot pain slashed through the side of his cheek, effectively knocking him unconscious from the overwhelming of pain. Next, the wolf man would bite him. Yes, a feast at last!
He opened his mouth, revealing his large fangs, and just as he punctured the skin on his chest, he could feel two strong hands pull him away. Still, the damage was done. Blood slowly dripped down Lex's shirt.
Frustrated, the wolf man slashed again at Clark, who foresaw the move and caught his arms. Carrying the wolf man, Clark walked over to the window and tossed him far, far away.
Then, Clark turned to attend to his friend. Blood had splattered all over some important-looking documents, not to mention Lex's clothes, but when Clark checked the wound, he found that it had already sealed – leaving only a strange scar.