God of The Third Sol

Chapter 7: Fresh Blood

A/N: Hi folks, I've been working my Code Geass Story and I'm dying to continue with this one.

So enjoy!

The Torch turned out to be a club that no one was running at the moment. The last graduating class took all of its members, leaving the school paper unattended.

As it turns out, only one other person aside from Clark applied. He stared at the blonde with shoulder length hair and hazel eyes. There was a moment of awkward silence as he continued to scrutinize her. She was wearing inexpensive but artistic earrings and a matching necklace. She was also an inch shorter than he was.

Chloe extended her hand first, not afraid of being shy. "Chloe Sullivan. Moved here a few years back. I've never seen you around before."

Clark shook her hand quickly. "Um, Clark Kent, I've been home schooled this entire time."

"Wait, The Clark Kent? The one that threw Pete through a door and paralyzed him waist down?"

"Um, yeah. That was me when we were five... Been around ten years or so. Guess people don't just forget." Clark grimaced and scuffed his shoes.

"I didn't want it to turn out that way you know. I'm trying to find a chance to show people a different side to me."

Chloe peered at him. He seemed honest enough. She playfully smacked him on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it. You already have one person on your side! I don't believe that you're as bad as they make you out to be."

Clark grinned. "Thanks a lot Chloe, it means a lot to me."

Thus was the start of a beautiful friendship.

Over the course of half the year Clark kept mostly to himself, settling for slightly above average grades in class. Jealousy was a terrible thing. Being too smart makes you a geek and nerd.

Clark was fine with just having Chloe was his friend. Together, they wrote articles and debated about the current events surrounding their lives. There were times when Chloe would sneak away to research something in private but Clark didn't mind. Everyone had their right to privacy. He took the time to work on his projects while Chloe went off to investigate her own stories. Currently, he was working on finding a way to negate or lessen the effect of the green meteor rocks had on him.

This was no easy task, especially not when the trying to experiment on an object that he could not get within five feet of it. What he discovered so far was the meteor rocks emitted some sort of radiation. It was unlike anything he ever read about. As far as he researched, there were no increase in cancer in Smallville after the meteor shower. The good point was that like the other radiations, it could be blocked by lead.

That aside, there was nothing more he could discover about the meteor rocks. Instead, he decided to work on keeping healthy. The steroid he took regularly did not appear to be having any major sort of effect on his body. He had yet to hit his growth spurt which hopefully would put him over six feet. The most important thing was exercise.

He took Dr. Hamilton's advice and took daily jogs. He started off easy, jogging a few laps around the farm. His goal was to increase the number of laps by one each day. Clark wasn't going to lie, it was really hard for him. Everyday, the last lap never seemed to end. As a result, he would always fall asleep in class. The teachers didn't mind as long as he didn't snore and kept up his grades. Everything was fine until Clark realized that one day he wasn't going to have enough time to run all his laps before school starts. The only option was to increase his speed and use less time per lap. The only problem was he ended up sleeping through all of his classes due to the excess use of energy.

Clark was sleeping through his Latin class when the teacher slammed a textbook down on his desk, jolting him awake.

He looked blearily around. "Where's the cannon?"

The rest of the students burst out into laughter. Mr. Smith looked down his nose at him. "So Mr. Kent, do you think you're above the rest of the class?"

Clark rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "No sir, but I do believe my grades speak for themselves in regards to my understanding of the subject."

Mr. Smith sneered but announced to the class. "Mr. Kent here gets full score on everyone of his exams but his work ethic is horrible. Sleeping will not be tolerated in this class unless you have stellar grades like Mr. Kent here."

Lana was impressed. She knew exactly how hard it was to learn a new language. It took her a few years before she became fluent in French. Along the side, she studied Latin but it was immensely hard to learn. Her grades were in the 90's but her grasp of the language was far from mastery. Her respect for Clark rose several notches. Who knew that her next door neighbor could be such a scholar?

Pete rolled up a dime of weed and lit it. He inhaled and held it, passing the joint to the other football players. They each took a puff and laughed at each others stupid jokes. Pete grinned as he unhatched his plan.

"Hey, Homecoming is around the corner, What's up with this years scarecrow?"

Whitney took a huge hit from the joint. "Gee, I dunno, some nerdy geek for'sho" Pete took this opportunity to ply him. "How about that damn Kent? You know how much I hate that geeky farm boy."

Whitney shrugged. "Sure, we''ll nail that hill billy for ya."

Pete smiled darkly, "Exellent" he whispered.

Chloes fingers danced across the keyboard. She tried to appear casual as she asked him. "So, are you going to the homecoming dance?"

Clark adjusted his glasses. "Well, social events aren't really my type of thing."

"Oh."

"How about you? Planning to go?"

Chloe let out a nervous laughter. "Who'll want to take me to the home coming dance? I doubt anyone even knows my name."

Clark shrugged, "You're pretty enough. I find it hard to believe no one would ask you to the dance."

Chloe's eye danced with hope, "R-really?"

He did not respond to Chloe's question. Clark's finger danced across the keyboard as he wrote up a article about how the Student council budgeted 80% of the total club fundings to the football team.

Clark was a bit dense when it came to human relations and emotions. Chloe could have confessed her love for him and he still would not have understood.

Chloe sighed and went back to drinking her latte. She honestly didn't know when she started liking Clark. He was quiet and aloof but brilliant. She saw him solve problems and understand concepts that most people couldn't begin to understand. Not to mention, he was the first person with better information gathering skills than her. She was fascinated with his intelligence.

Maybe it was admiration but recently, his face looked leaner and his skin had more of a healthy tan. Not to mention, those sharp green eyes of his made him look really handsome.

Too bad Clark didn't show any interest on the opposite sex at all.

Yet.

The Homecoming dance was a cover. Behind the illusion of a happy school dance, there was a darker event. Every year the football team would pick an unfortunate victim, unpopular and usually a nerd. This hazing ceremony involves stripping the victim down to his boxers and tying him to a cross. It was a crude form of crucification. This school tradition originated from the time when the whites picked out a black guy to lynch.

And unfortunately, Clark was this years scarecrow. Being the scarecrow was years of therapy waiting to happen. Take that Jeremy Creek kid for example, he had the luck to be the scarecrow the day the meteor shower descended.

Clark was unchaining his bike when he was attacked.

A burlap sack was throw over his head and he was pushed over. His attackers wrapped some sort of rope around his arms and torso, restricting his movements.

"What the hell is going on? Release me this instant."

Whitney picked Clark up army style and slung him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "What do you think this is? Its Scarecrow Time!"

Clark was thrown in the back of Whitney's Ford pickup truck. A few of the other football players nudged him with their foot as they sped off. After struggling against his bonds, Clark gave up. His vision was gone and his movements were restricted. Also he was in the back of a moving car which meant running wasn't an option.

For the first time in his life, Clark cursed himself for his weakness. If only he was stronger, he could find a way to get out of the ropes or fight back somehow.

Instead, he could do nothing but beg them to stop as they tied to to the cross on Riley's field.

The sun was setting and the night air was beginning to bring chills. His teeth chattered from the cold, the hatred he felt, and the frustration at the situation. "W-whhy a-are you doing this to me? I didn't offend any of you."

Whitney lit his joint and inhaled, letting the weed work it's magic. He blew the smoke into Clark's face and eyes. "You see this? Pete was good enough to supply us with some free shit. If you got anyone to blame, it's that short druggie who hates your guts. Anyway, I hope you didn't have any plans for tonight because the only thing you're going to do is watch the stars tonight."

Ignoring his desperate pleas, Whitney and his gang left him on the field.

The ropes bit into his soft flesh, cutting off precious blood flow to his arms. His own weight was his enemy. The worst part about the whole situation was that Whitney and the others actually treated him like a scarecrow, stringing him up by tying rough hemp rope around his arms. His arms were getting numb from the lack of blood.

"It hurts doesn't it?"

A quiet whispering snapped Clark out of his trance. "Thank god you found me. Please help me, Let me down!"

The young boy stood motionless. "You know, I was once a scarecrow too. I know the pain. I was there when the meteor shower hit."

Clark shook his head in denial. "That was twelve years ago. That's impossible."

Jeremy smiled a dark smile. "I have been blessed. The meteor shower changed me, I was reborn with power. The power to do justice!" Angry sparks flashed around Jeremy. Clark stared in disbelief. Electricity?

"You're the one who attacked the football players from back then!"

Jeremy held up his hand and electricity dancer from finger to finger. "I'm impressed you found out but you shouldn't have stuck your nose where it didn't belong. I can't leave you alive now."

Clark struggled against the ropes. "Why are you doing this? Aren't we the same?" Jeremy frowned. "Of course not. I'm special. You're just a loser like I used to be. It would be better to put you out of your misery right now."

The electricity in Jeremy's hand gathered, taking on the shape of a sizzling ball.

"This should do the trick. I have enough electricity here to stop your heart. Good bye."

Clark convulsed and spasmed as his nerves went haywire. He was losing control over his muscles and consciousness. There was an acrid stench as he pissed himself and lost control of his bowel movements.

But he was alive.

Jeremy looked on in wonder. "That was enough electricity to power up an electric chair execution. Some people do survive though. I guess your just unfortunate enough to have to experience it a second time. After you die, I'll avenge your death by killing everyone in school. Rest in Peace."

Jeremy gathered immense amounts of electricity into both hands. They both glowed a blinding white color. He clapped both hands together and there was a loud crack and the very air split. Jeremy had produced enough energy to create an artificial miniature bolt of lightning.

This time, Clark's heart ceased to beat.

Death.

A/N: Death by Lightning!

Dun Dun Dun!

Enjoy the updates. The next chapter will be a showdown between Jeremy and Lana!

Ciao~