-Chapter Five-
Clark's rewards
Clark walked into his apartment, it was expensive and lucrative and what he deserved. After everything he'd done everyone he'd save he deserved a reward.
There were large window frames stretched through out the apartment showing him the cityscape of Metropolis, towering over everyone, as he should be as a god among men. The sun hit the window sparkling as the sun began to set. It was still early; he had a few hours to get ready.
He had bought everything he had ever wanted and the apartment showed it. It was filled with paintings, silk cushioned pillows and duvets covering a large bed across from the living area were the sat leather chairs and coaches surrounding a glass table. The walls were panelled with polished lightwood and a large metal stand stood in the bedroom covered with small statues or ornaments.
The garage that he rented downstairs consisted of many of the cars he had bought with the money he had stolen. Each one way more than the truck he used to drive. His favourite vehicle to ride was his motorbike. He liked to feel the wind in his hair because it was then and only then, that he knew he was free.
He looked down at the ring around his finger. Strange that such a small rock could bring him so much happiness and wealth, he though to himself as he stroked it affectionately.
He sat in one of his leather chairs basking in his new found greatness. He turned on the television in front of him and began to play on one of his many video games, something else he would never have been able to afford in his old life. In fact, he wouldn't have any of this stuff if he hadn't have put that ring on.
The ring was a reminder of what he once was and what he never wanted to be again. Repressed, weak little Clark Kent who always ate his vegetables, who never gave in to his own desires, who sat for an entire year as the love of his life sat in the arms of another man an he did nothing. He just sat there and didn't interfere, didn't take advantage at the slightest chink in their relationship and what did it do for him nothing. Just made an everlasting pain that built and built every time he saw them together. He was powerful and Whitney was just a cockroach compared to him. He could have crushed him and she would have been his.
He heard his dad saying: "Just hang in there," "don't give away your secret". All those times he held him back and for what to stay at home and mind crops and move bails of hay. His father just wanted a copy of himself. In fact, both of them did. Jonathon wanted a farmer and Jor-El wanted a conqueror. Well neither of them got their wish. He lived his own life and all he wanted was to have the things that were deprived from him and the gift that he held.
A loud whistle echoed from the game as the referee blew his whistle. He had made a touch down. He would have made many of them if he had been in his High school football team.
He threw the controller pad down the floor hard leaving two scratches across the wood flooring. No matter, that was easily fixed, what's a little scratch that money can't clean up. He walked towards his silk bed and flopped down on it. The silk felt good against his skin and he felt his eyes getting heavier as he began to fall asleep. He had to be rested before tonight. Before he took Anne out. Another reward of his. Everything Metropolis had was his reward.