Chapter Seven:
The place was oddly familiar to him and at the same time it made him uneasy. There was restlessness in the air, an undercurrent almost. He turned his head and paused as if listening.
"You sense it don't you?" she murmured. He looked at her, frowning. He sensed something; he just wasn't sure what it was.
"The torment. The air is heavy with it" A shiver crawled down Clark's spine. That was it exactly, torment. He could only nod.
"This way" she told him.
The corridor was bare, it reminded him of the hospital where Lex was. Clinical, emotionally dead. There was nobody around but he could hear the moans, the cries and it scared him rigid.
"Where are we?" he asked, his voice sounding obscene in the silence. She looked at him.
"Belle Reve." The mental institution, in another lifetime it had been Lex's private hell. Clark inhaled deeply. Why were they here of all places? He felt her squeeze his hand and he glanced sharply at her. It was scant comfort and again Clark felt a little weirded out that she seemed to be tuned into the private recesses of his mind.
"We're here" They were in a rectangular shaped room with only a bolted down bed for company. Again he was reminded of Lex. The lighting was subdued. He looked around, it seemed to be empty. He looked questioningly at his guide.
"She's over there," she murmured. Clark frowned again and slowly turned. She?
She was in the far corner of the room, crouching down and curled into a tight ball. All he could see was that she had blonde hair. He couldn't see her face, didn't recognise her and he wondered why he'd been brought here. A low humming seemed to vibrate through the atmosphere. It took Clark a second to realise that it came from her. He took a couple of steps towards her. Her head shot up and Clark faltered to a stop, unable to believe just who he was looking at.
"Chloe?"he breathed in absolute horror. Her green eyes were wide, panic-stricken almost.
"Oh God…Chloe" he whispered and felt the burn of emotion in his throat. He took another step towards her and stopped again when her seemingly unfocused gaze fixed on him.
"Who are you? Where did you come from?" she demanded in an uptight voice. Clark turned and looked at his companion. All he got was a surreptitious shrug in return. He looked back at Chloe, his partner in crime at the Torch, his best friend. This was Chloe? His head just couldn't get itself around that fact.
"You can see me?" he asked cautiously. Chloe looked at him for a brief millisecond before her gaze slid away, anywhere but at him.
"They'll just tell me it's in my imagination. You're not real, they're never real" she pushed herself to her feet. All she wore was a knee-length white gown that looked three sizes too big for her. Her hair bore the hallmarks of being pulled at; it didn't look as though it had been combed in a long time.
"What happened to you?" Another quick, almost furtive glance into his eyes and it was gone. She inched past him and moved to the opposite corner of the room.
"Where's my dad? I want my dad? Why won't he come?" she looked at Clark expectantly as though he'd supply her with the answers. He turned to look at his guide. She came to stand beside him, watching Chloe, a look of deep sympathy in her eyes.
"Chloe has been an inmate in here for almost eighteen months now. Before that she had a promising journalistic career ahead of her. Then she crossed Lionel Luthor" Clark tipped his head to one side, absorbing the information that she was providing him with.
"Lionel Luthor?" she slowly nodded. She walked towards Chloe and stood in front of her, regarding her. Chloe was talking a mile a minute and the familiarity of that habit was particularly bitter sweet for Clark. None of it made any sense and it washed over him for a brief second.
"She came across damning information that he killed his parents and he was arrested. From behind bars he waged a campaign of terror against Chloe. He took everything from her, her way of life, her career, her home, her father and finally her sanity. The breakdown was comprehensive and she's been here ever since" For a second Clark closed his eyes, the lump in his throat grew even more intense as he remembered the sassy Torch reporter with the streak of fearlessness in her a mile wide that scared him silly sometimes. But she'd had the heart and spirit of a lion. He opened his eyes and realised that his vision was a little blurry.