A/N: In response to KOSMOSemulator's review, as well as a couple others, no I do NOT think that all church leaders are evil. Church leaders are sinners just like everybody else, but many are very good and sincere people despite what the media says. Churches are supposed to be good and kind places and all of the churches I've been to have been that way. Being a born-again Christian, I could never say that the church as a whole is bad, even though there are a lot of individual churches that have very questionable practices. This place I'm describing is not actually a real God-fearing church, and in this chapter you'll find out why. Sorry if I've given a questionable impression, but I'm very intrigued with cults that imitate Christianity and you're always told to "write what you know" and this is what I know. Forgive me if I'm getting a little too spiritual, but I wanted to make sure people knew where I stood.

A/N/2: Unfortunately, this is going to be the last "quickie update", but I will have another chapter up very soon!

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"Oh Aelora, it was awful," Clark said through his tears as he held the girl tighter then he had ever held anybody.

Aelora continued to comfort the boy by stroking his head and telling him that he was safe now.

"No I'm not," Clark said. "They're going to come back. They're going to do it again."

"Y…You're right. They are. But you have to remember that…"

"No. You don't understand! They treated me like I was a demon or something. They beat me…and…and they made me…they took away my sight…how could dad do that? He loved me! He said he did. I was his son! He helped me so much I…I guess that was all just a lie. They only took me in 'cause they couldn't have any children…"

"Clark! No! Your father doesn't believe that nor will he ever."

"I wish that were true," Clark muttered as he slid himself out of Aelora's embrace and lay on the ground with his head on her lap. "You didn't see him. He was so angry. I had no idea that he hated me that much."

"Clark," Aelora said. "Do you wonder why the reverend refused to let your father torture you himself?"

Clark's blank eyes became wide as he asked, "How did you know…?"

"He never lets them, Clark. They can never bring themselves to actually inflict physical harm on their loved ones. That's a flaw in Rev. Jim's spell."

"Spell?"

"He can make people his willing drones by causing the darkest desires of their heart to come out. It's a dark power that overtakes a weak soul and forces them to take on what is buried deep in their heart, and Rev. Jim uses it to make his victims believe what he wants them to believe. Think of it as brainwashing with a supernatural twist."

Clark was stunned at this, "How does he do that?"

"He can actually see into these dark reaches of the heart and see what these things are. He then says the exact right thing so that their dark desires can be carried out to fulfill his wishes once the initial mind-melding is complete."

"So he's a psychic?"

"Yeah, technically."

"Aren't psychics evil according to the church?"

"They are evil, which is why he doesn't tell anybody about his 'special gift'."

"How did he…is he a meteor freak?"

"I wish, since that would make him slightly redeemable. He got his power from some weird place in the Caribbean. I don't know exactly where or exactly how, but it was before he adopted me and it changed the way he ran his congregation, and his family. So far, only extremely strong souls have been able to resist him, and those people are often killed."

"If that's true, then...wait…my parents are the strongest people I…"

"Strong will doesn't necessarily mean a strong soul."

"But wait. You said that all of these desires come from inside them. Did…did my father really have these feelings all along?"

"Yes, but…"

"I knew it! I…"

"Clark! Let me finish! They were buried by your father. Everyone has feelings that they don't want to have, but if they are buried that means those feelings are not part of their actual psyche. If he had never buried those feelings, he'd be a completely different person; the man he is now."

"I…still don't understand." Clark sighed.

"I can't expect you to. Not many of the victims do, and it leads to their undoing. However, I want you to know that this spell has nothing to do with your parent's real feelings. They were kept from helping you in those first minutes after your capture because they had very deep desires to stay put. They would have never carried it out until the reverend made them. You would never had used your heat vision on that piece of paper had he not made the deep desire of demonstrating your power to the world come to pass."

Clark was coming to understand this a little better now, but he was disturbed by the fact that the reverend could do this to anyone he cared about. "Are there people who have overcome it?"

Aelora seemed a little distracted before she said, "I've heard of one, and apparently she was helped by true love for her child."

"Well, I guess my parents don't have true love for me then," Clark said as he sighed, trying to hold back the oncoming tears.

"You're wrong, Clark," said a voice that was clearly not Aelora. Clark perked up and lifted himself onto a sitting position before feeling familiar hands on his shoulders.

"M…mom?" Clark trembled.

"Yes, it's me honey," Martha held her son close to her as she began to weep. "I've missed you so much."

Clark tried to be brave in front of his mother, even though all he wanted to do was lie in her lap and be rocked back and forth. He didn't care if he was too big or too old to be comforted like that, he wanted a way to feel like he was safe.

Clark's happiness began to overtake his senses and he couldn't help but ask the first thing that came to his mind. "How…how did you…get here?"

Martha wiped her eyes and said, "Aelora's sister slipped me through a passageway. The reverend tried to get me to come over to his side and I didn't give in. He left me alone and electrocuted in the cell, intending to come back and kill me, and then Kimberly snuck me out and explained everything."

"Kimberly?" Clark said.

"See, I'm not the only one in this church who thinks that my dad needs psychological help," Aelora laughed, now on her feet, watching the pair at a distance.

Clark laughed as his mother took his head in her hands and tried to get a good look at him. "Oh god, what did they do to you?"

"I…don't," Clark said as he reached out his hand and tried to feel his mother's skin. The feel of it was always the thing that comforted him as a child, even though it hadn't in so long. Martha noticed how her son didn't look directly at her and how his eyes were of a different coloration than before.

"They made you blind, didn't they, Clark?"

Clark gulped and then nodded.

"Oh Clark! How could they…? How could anyone be that cruel?"

"I don't know," Clark said in monotone as he rested his head on his mother's chest. "I just…it's not dad's fault."

"Dad?" asked Martha shocked. "Did your father do this to you?"

"Yes…no…I don't know. I mean it was him that…oh what did you tell me Aelora? It's all jumbled."

"What is?" Aelora asked. "What I just told you? How could you possibly forget? It's been ten minutes."

"I know I just…I can't remember it."

Aelora was silent for a couple seconds before she muttered, "Oh no, not this. He didn't."

"Didn't what?" Martha asked with great concern.

It was right then that the group heard a group of ominous footsteps clapping outside. As soon as the sound entered Clark's enhanced ears, his shivers increased, and Martha noticed it.

"They're coming back," Aelora said.

"Oh no," Clark said as his bliss waned and his shivering gave way to full-on trembling. "Mom, you have to do something! I can't go back there, I just can't! You have to…to…help somehow."

Martha was shocked at Clark's reversion to five years of age, but with all that he had been through, any type of protection would be very welcome. She knew that no matter how old anybody got, their mother would always be the ideal protection for any situation.

"I will, Clark. I promise."

It was right when she said those words that the iron door opened to reveal Jonathan, the reverend, and a couple other people standing in the door way. She could feel the tension in the room as soon as they looked into the woman's eyes. As Jonathan stepped to the forefront of the group, Martha crawled in front of her wounded son.

"Martha? How did you…?"

"I'm not going to let you hurt our son anymore! I know you're in there Jonathan, please tell them to stop!"

"Clearly you didn't listen to me the first time when I spoke to you!" Jonathan shouted. "You're clearly not fulfilling your duties as a wife and listening to me. You should be taught a lesson."

"Jonathan," Martha trembled as she slowly stood up, not noticing the pain in her ankle. "You sound like a bad actor in a cheesy cowboy movie. This is obviously not you talking."

Clark couldn't help but smile at his mother's rarely used talent for wit, but he also wondered about why these people didn't seem to be reacting to Aelora, who obviously didn't have enough time to leave without anyone noticing.

"You'll pay for that Martha Kent!" the reverend shouted. "You are protecting…"

"If you say unholy demon you're going to lose an eye, or maybe a kidney, whatever's more convenient. This is my son, and I don't care where he came from. I love him more than I could love anything. He is not a demon, an alien, or a monster as you people would suggest. He has a more pure soul than any of you will ever have. In my eyes, reverend, you are the unholy demon!"

Clark heard Rev. Jim grunting and he couldn't be happier. In his mind this might be over. His mother would help him escape as she psyched out this evil man. Then, her and Aelora would take him out of this horrible place and he would be able to get his powers back from the glorious sun. Clark then started to imagine how incredible the sun would feel right about now. Its amazing beams warming him and giving his muscles body and strength. All of this seemed within reach, until…

BANG!

Clark felt his mother's body fall back like a thud onto his own. He crawled out from under and franticly felt around the ground to find Martha's face. When he did, he used his trembling hands to feel around her body to see if his worst fears had come true. He scrambled his fingertips around her torso and found a warm wetness around the area. Clark lifted his hand and moved his thumb around his fingers. The warmth and thickness of the liquid made him know it was blood. He was using his other hand to feel around his mother some more, until he felt the bullet hole.

"MOM!" Clark shouted as he realized that his mother was in grave danger. He began shift his fingers to her face once more. "Wake up! Please! Mom! I love you so much! You mean the world to me! Don't leave me! Don't leave me like this…Please…Mommy…" Clark was exhausting his remaining strength crying to his wounded mother, and his volume began to fade along with his hope. As his head fell forward on his mother's neck from pure anguish, the familiar scenario of two strong goons grabbing him by the shoulders took place.

Clark did little to resist it, as usual. Only this time, it was not because of weakness or unconsciousness. He felt that there was no use and that this evil man that called himself a reverend was definitely going to kill him. This was the end of the line. The only person on his side had been killed, never to return to his side again. Now he almost wished that this woman would have been torturing him, at least then he would be close to her and feel her matronly presence. That was all gone now. The two minutes he spent with her were now pure anguish in his mind because they had given him hope. Hope was now another torture tool. The more hope he had, the more he would be disappointed when the light at the end of the tunnel dimmed to darkness. His father was…his father…What did Aelora say again? Did she say he was under a spell? No, it couldn't be. That's impossible. Even if he was under some influence other than himself, then there was no plausible way to come out from under it. Clark wished that he would just drop dead right there so that what awaited him would never come. At least in that scenario he would be with his mother.

As Clark groaned and cried, Jonathan and Rev. Jim looked on as he was dragged out the door of the cell.

"We can't bring him back here," the reverend chimed. "We can't risk him being aided in here, which is what I suspect is happening. I don't know whose doing it, and frankly I don't care. We have to change the plans and have continuous tor…punishment for him until his death."

"I see," Jonathan said as he looked toward the bleeding woman lying in the middle of the floor. Her face was wet with fresh tears and her groans of pain echoed throughout the walls like the weeping mothers at all of those military funerals you see on TV. However, these groans drew much closer to home. This was the woman whom he had given his life to, whom he had loved, whom helped him raise Clark all of these years. "Are you sure that we should leave her here all alone?" Jonathan asked, reluctantly.

The reverend, looking concerned, grabbed Jonathan's arm and said, "This is the woman who disobeyed you Jonathan. She would not believe you about Clark. If she had her way, then the boy would already be conquering us all."

"Yes, but…"

"Besides, she has Steven here to keep her company." He said as he pointed to the man still drawing on the wall. "We must get back to the task at hand my brother. This should be an exciting day for you. You are finally going to see justice done in your life."

Jonathan sighed and nodded as Rev. Jim led him out of the room.