go by ch20

20



It was a dream.

One that he frequently experienced when he closed his eyes. Clark was back in the Phantom Zone, the scorched black hole of the universe. His eyes clenched shut when he felt the sharp, granule winds whips at his face, all of his old wounds reopening again.

This he was used to, accustomed to. Hardened to. The Phantom Zone became a home away from home for Clark, a place he dreamed of when he needed to reunite with himself. Afterall, the closest he'd come to being reunited with his father was there, somewhere. All sources of Jor-El had been destroyed on Earth. And Krypton was long gone.

Atleast this place was still alive.

Clark was no longer scared of this place, the only  part he did fear was when he could hear her voice carried away with the wind. She was alive, she told him so. Only, he didn't know where to look for her. Every dune was the same black mess that shifted and reversed, buried him closer to the center of the terrible mass.

Eventually, he opened his eyes. He always did. And like always, there was a thing standing in front of him. A physcial mass, barrier, a towering figure.  Before he used to think it was Jonn. Once, he tried speaking to it. It never spoke.  It didn't respond to Clark. It seemed to only exist. This, thing, was not Jonn.

It's eyes were several feet above Clark's head, and its shoulders four times as wide. It was a beast, a monster, the personification of everything he hated about Krypton, and the travesty that slaughtered its own people. It was the indriscriminating violence that came with being superior. Unforgiving perfection that eliminated anything else that was weaker.

There among phantoms,  Clark knew that everything would be safe. He could face this monster in the darkness, and never worry about hurting another soul again. Here, they were brothers. He realized that this was the reason why Jor-El created this place.

Hurricane winds washed out the two figures in the dunes, blackness spreading evenly. The winds would keep them both here. He would never risk going back. She was alive of course, and this time, he would keep this monster from her.

Winds carried him deeper, his legs sinking into the ground. He looked over to the monster and saw that it was only him who sank beneath the sand. It was him who was trapped. The monster walked over his buried face, towards a light in the distance.

It was moving towards Chloe's voice.

The true nightmare was when he realized the portal to Earth was still open. Clark's eyes shut with the final grains of sand that washed over them. He was drowning. It was over. The end. He was becoming one with the phantoms as the last of Krypton walked free.



*

Paper fluttered over his eyes.

Clark jolted awake, newspapers strewn across his face and chest. He was buried in them, his fingers stained with newspaper ink. He looked across the loft and saw the barn window tap mindlessly with the breeze. It was a summer morning, relatively mild and no sign of rain.

He'd had that dream again. Nightmare.

It was always there waiting forhim when his body let him slide into sleep. He couldn't remember if he dreamed of anything else, he supposed he didnt.

Clark searched for his glasses, an addition to his wardrobe since his vision wasn't what it used to be. His mother warned him about reading late at night in the dark and now he could barely read foot notes.

Clark yawned, and then continued his work into the morning. He took his yellow highlighter and dragged it across the page.

A monster, that what they were calling it. There was a vague, blurry picture stretched out and pixelated on the front page of every paper. A monster, they said. Yet, no one knew what it was exactly.

It was unexplained, and thus, a new strain of questions arose. Could there had been a new meteor infection? Did the scientists at Queen Lab get it wrong? Again, the world feared the  unknown.

This news, this monster, it ignited a powerful interest in him, as did everyone else. But this news meant something different for Clark. Even if his conscious was torn, if the monster was Kryptonian derived, it meant that not everything had been erased. Perhaps this was the phantom he had been looking for.

His eyes closed against his wishes as the breeze filtered through the loft. He'd been abnormally tired as of late, like his exhaustion was finally catching up with his body and mind. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep, it was always two or three hours here and there. There was no real rest anymore. With this news of a possible lead, Clark urged his body to move from his place, but it didn't cooperate. Perhaps his body had finally given out, demanding rest.

Something else woke him. A noise, or a movement. It wasn't the wind this time, he looked over at the loft window and it was closed. Funny, he didn't remember moving from the couch to close it. But he supposed he did.

"Hi."

It didn't take much to recognize her voice. She was standing by the stairs, oneof her hands resting on the banister, the other brushing the hair that shimmered abvoe her eyes. She moved towards him in a slow manner, one that was both careful and considerate. She knew he'd been waiting for her, searching for her. And she seemed to understand both the surprise and anger he felt when she just, appeared.

Chloe sat opposite him on the couch, one of her legs crossed underneath. Again, her hand fiddled with her hair, but he realized that she was nervous, too.

 "Hi." His mouth was dry as he sat up, news papers falling to the floor.

She smiled, and bent down to pick a paper up. "Devoted reader. I see you've become quite the book worm," she noted at the several stacks around the loft.

"Light reading," Clark shrugged, "there's isn't much to do around a farm."

"You should get out more often."

"I try. Not as much fun when it takes three hours to get anywhere."

"Oh, like the rest of us?"

Clark smiled.

She smiled with him, "Yeah, I guess being normal isn't so fun. Although, I wouldn't know myself."

She was beautiful, he thought. Entirely normal for her smile to be so easy, "Why do you hide from me?"

"Why did you hide from me?"

"I didn't hide-- I was protecting you."

"And yourself," she added. "There's no difference here. There are several things going on in the world that you simply can't read in the papers, Clark. Now it's time for you to get your butt off your couch..."

Clark was a loss for words. His glasses were still hanging out his nose. He pushed them up and looked at her very closely, "What do you think I've been doing?"

"Sitting here, gathering your notes," she held up his highlighters mockingly,"What's the matter? Too scared to go out into the real world without your powers?"

Clark looked at her, hurt. "You don't know what it's like to be powerless after..."

"Being so powerful? To have no control?"

"Yes."

Chloe reached out for his hand, and studied his finger nails. They were dirty with red clay. "You've been digging again. Shame you're wasting all your energy with cold leads."

"What do you suggest?"

She shrugged, blonde waves escaping her ear. This time she didn't brush it aside. "I don't see why you're so reluctant to get your hands 'dirty' when they quite literally already are. You think I discovered half my stories by playing 'soft ball'? Don't you remember anything from the Torch days?"

Clark smiled, his hand still cradled in hers. "Of course I remember."

She let him touch her hair, and bring it back behind her ear. His thumb touched her cheek.

"Then do what you have to, Clark." Chloe leaned into him, her eyes narrowed in on his. She slipped his reading glasses off and came closer, "by the way, you snore like a baby."

Clark awoke, his lips puckered and ready for her. Disappointingly, all he got was the cold wet snout of a dog.

"Shelby!" Clark wiped his mouth and jumped off the couch.


***



part 2


***


Clark awoke, his lips puckered and ready for her. Disappointingly, all he got was the cold wet snout of a dog. 

"Shelby!" Clark wiped his mouth and jumped off the couch. 

Clark wiped his mouth again, spinning around when he heard the snortles of his mother's laughter.

"You must have been dreaming of something nice," Martha's eyes smiled, "I hadn't seen you smile like that in years. Even if you were unconscious."

"Smile?" Clark frowned.

"Yes, Clark. Smile. The opposite of what your doing now," Martha patted him on the back and then sat down on the little red sofa, "So, what were you dreaming about?"

Clark shrugged, thinking a moment. It vaguely felt like he was about to laugh, late to a joke, but he couldn't remember the punch line anymore.

"Oh, well," Martha sighed, "Well, it'll come back to you. Good dreams always do."

Clark shrugged again, and then moved to the window, closing it.

Martha picked up the newspapers from the chest-table,  "Anything in here new? The nations been hunkering down on this 'Metropolis Monster' story for weeks now."

"Not really," Clark replied from the window, "This monst... thing, kills non discriminatly, and doesn't leave much evidence. Or eye witnesses. It kills those too."

Martha frowned and read more of Clark's highlighted footnotes, "This is sounding more and more of one of those... what did Chloe call it, Wall of Weird?"

Clark turned.

"Yes," Martha eyes alighted, "I did read an article or two from the Torch. I was very proud of you back then. Both of you."

Clark looked at his mother for a moment, wondering if he should tell her Chloe was still alive. He hadn't told a soul since his encounter with Lois Lane at Queen Industries. He wasn't even sure if he could believe Lois. Half of him thought it might be wishful thinking. The other half, angry and confused that Chloe hadn't made a single effort to...

"Clark?" Martha said after a while of Clark's blank stare.

"The Wall of Weird was for things that were unexplained in Smallville," Clark remembered, "they were all nearly meteor related, but this thing is different. But I don't think it just kill in this area, or greater Metropolis. Outside jurisdictions are having trouble connecting the missing persons, but I believe this thing has a greater range. A large conspiracy..."

Martha smirked, "You're starting to sound a little like Lex Luthor."

Clark looked at her, but he didn't disagree, "Maybe he wasn't wrong."

The guilt melted her smile from her face, "Clark, that man was a driven into madness. He virtually isolated himself to the point of insanity, following some unproven prophecy."

"Maybe I am a lot like him, then."

"No Clark, you have many friends left in this world."

"It's hard to see them when they're not here."

Martha looked after her son.

Clark rubbed his chest, and downed another cup of coffee and antacid. Between the stress and chain coffee drinking, chest pain riddled his day and kept him up at night. Sometimes the pain felt worse than that, and nothing helped.

"Honey," Martha warned, "I'm going to start limiting your intake of caffeine. It's not good for your heart."

Clark grimaced, and sipped from his mug, "I'm fine." Besides that, the smell of coffee was intoxicating. And comforting. He couldn't explain it to her, but it was good for him.

"You need to take care of yourself. You're not, you anymore."

Clark grimaced more.

Martha motioned for  him to sit next to her. When he did, Martha tenderly felt his forehead with the softness of her hand. Clark's eyes were trained on the steel box his father had found a long time ago. It sheltered a piece of meteor rock, small, but potent enough to take Clark down. Or, used to. The box was splayed open now, with the dull, black exterior of rock laid open to see.

 "You know," Martha said, grabbing Clark's hand, "when you were gone... I wasn't sure you would ever come back. I didn't know if you were alive, Clark. I always hoped, that you were invincible. But this thing that's crept up on us... it really is, isn't it? Invincible?"

Clark focused his eyes hard on the rock in front of him, "Dad always said there was an answer to every problem...And I think mine is getting my powers back and confronting this, monster. "

Martha grabbed his hand harder.

"I have to."


"I know," she said sadly, but then Martha let go of his hand and picked up one of the papers on his table. It wasn't like the others, this one smaller, flexible and illustrated quite beautifully, "What's this?"

"Oh," Clark frowned and then explained that it was a Tarot card. The sixteenth in series, the Tower.

Martha asked where it was from, and when he explained that too, she was visibly upset, "Clark! You can't still be seeing that sorceress?"

"Zatanna's one of the few friends I have left. She helped me before," Clark explained, and then placed the card in his palm, "although I have a difficult time understanding her riddles... Celestial magic is not too different than any other power I've seen."

"What does it mean?" Martha looked on curiously.

"I'm not sure. The tower resembles some great truth toppled from a construction of lies... and brought out for all to see. A revelation."

Clark placed the card in his pocket and picked up his jacket.

"Where are you going?"
"To find my revelation."

*

Outside, and few hours later, Clark fished out the tarot card and held it against the Metropolis skyline in the distance.

The Tower.

It's illustration was straight forward, a large castle tower rising above the skyline, a bolt of lightning striking its peak and cracking it in half.

Out of all the rigid silhouettes of Metropolis, one building stood out like a sore thumb. Clark squinted his eye, placing the card over the outline of Lexcorp. Seamlessly, the two images became one.


*

"I'm actually surprised you're here," Tess Mercer removed her safety glasses and her lab coat, "I was beginning to think you didn't take my apology seriously."

Clark adjusted his glasses, "I've been busy following my own research, Ms. Mercer."

"I see," she made an attempt to smile, but her curiosity overthrew it all, "Can I be of service?"

Once he explained to her his request, Tess seated herself behind Lex's old desk, his glass and steel decor made into her own. There was a picture of herself, and Lex standing next to a sign Cadmus Labs. "You want access to Lex Luthor's vault?"

"Lex collected many souvenirs related to the meteor infected," Clark explained plainly.

"Yes, I know," Tess leaned forward, "We had to move Lex's toys into the 'attic'."

"The attic?"

"'Attic,' father's old mansion..." Tess shrugged, "either way, I needed that warehouse space for something more productive."

"But the Luthor mansion was bulldozed years ago."

"Along with Kawatche caves, his Porsche and everything else..."

Clark watched Tess intently, "The caves?"

"Yes, Clark. I know about the caves. And I know what you're looking for. But it isn't there. Those 'souvenirs" are nothing but scraps of metal, some over studied meteor rocks, and dusty books."

*

Lex's final wishes did indeed include the destruction of Lionel Luthor's mansion. The details however were secretive, and obscure. Lex had the structure torn down brick by brick, as if searching for some clue inside.

Tess had the building blocks relocated to the underground of an outside facility. It was low security and unimpressive. A sad place for Lex's most valuable possessions to be stored posthumously. But Clark didn't have room to complain, and he certainly didn't protest when Tess volunteered to be his personal tour guide.

He watched her from the corner of his eye, wondering why exactly she was so eager to help him at all. She was very open about herself, and seemed to have no secrets about her business. Which was what threw Clark off, since she'd inherited a Luthor business, and that wasn't based off seniority.

The way she smiled at Clark frequently was what closed the circle. She was reading him, possibly using him for bait. But, for what?

Tess led Clark to the entryway for a vault, climate controlled. The ceiling flickered with fluorescence, the steel walls a cave. Inside, it was like a hoarder's dream. Items scattered everywhere, nothing catalogued. It looked exactly how Tess described, 'toys in the attic'.

Tess walked Clark to the front door of the Luthor mansion, now partially torn down and a skeleton of its one time beauty. Where the rest of the house was, Clark didn't know. Only a few stained glass remained. He could partially see Lex's reflection in them.

Tess crossed the threshold first, but had very little room to move from there. The entryway was stacked with art, books, and boxes....

"Lex was a very great collector," Tess smiled, "other's would say 'hoarder' but that meaning changes once you're filthy rich."

Clark knelt down and picked up the book stacked ontop of one of many stacks. "'Advances in Satellite Communications and Cosmos, by Dr. Virgil Swann.'"

"Looks like a heavy read."

"I had the same book," Clark stated, turning the volume around. It was then that Clark realized he was looking at his own life, collections of his past interests. Of Lex's interests. He remembered, as if he had forgotten, that he and Lex were friends once. Their ideals not far off from one another.

"Did Lex every tell you his theory of the meteor showers?"

Clark looked up, pushed up his glasses, "Not in full detail."

Tess nodded, "Well it goes like this: One day a piece of meteor rock carried a small boy to Earth... a boy who would destroy the world."

Clark eyes raised from the text, but he said little. "Interesting."

"Well, that's it in a nutshell. It was all lore and myth to me. In fact, it's a common archetype with ancient literature. I'm more into statistical data, fact based research.  If you want to know my theory..."

Clark raised an eye brow.

"Lex was an unstable psychopath. His personal trauma after losing his infant brother scarred the rest of his life. He used to tell me he was searching for his other half.. convinced that his own father was plotting against him somehow. He believed, his brother was alive."

"Julian?"Clark barely recalled.

"No," Tess shook her head, "Lex's other brother. Adopted."

Clark did not remember Lex mentioning another brother, but then again, that was a long time ago.

"Yes, Davis was killed in a car accident. Anyway, between that a losing Julian, Lex lost touch with his father and the rest of the world. He always had this.. invulnerability complex. I guess nothing like death brings mortality to life."

Tess through a smile at Clark, but it didn't fit right.

"Working under him was interesting to say the least," she aimlessly picked up a book and then set it down, "but I managed to come through with a little more than what I came in with. I've steered this corporation onto a more solid foundation this last decade. We are a scientific busness model that deals with genetic mutation as a byproduct of radiation.  No different than previous, curable infections. You were cured, of course.  This problem we're dealing with now, the Metropolis Monster,  is stronger than others. Infections grow resistant against cures, its the law of survival. Even disease wants to live."

"And you can cure it?"

"Cure it.. kill it. Which ever comes first," Tess said, then added, "Our... previous strategy of eliminating meteor freaks proved unsuccessful. I'd like to think it was poor management, but... " Tess shrugged, in a form of weak apology, "the strategy is changed now. Of course we know now that curing the disease is far more profitable than exterminating the source."

Clark nodded, "It's about  money."

Tess smiled, "LexCorp, partnered with Cadmus Labs, does plenty of humanitarian work, too."

Clark watched as the woman carried on as if she were a representative of Red Cross. To her, it was no different. To her, the past dealings of imprisoning meteor infected was out of sight, out of mind. But Clark did not have a clear conscious either. He was the one who helped people like Lex, and Tess, put them in Belle Reeve. He couldn't forgot that either.

Clark travelled further into the array of objects, some small, others very large. Once they reached the corridor of the mansion, Tess received a phone call and skittered away around the corner. Clark took the opportunity to snoop deeper, and disappeared beyond where the courtyard of the Luthor mansion used to be. There were several more wooden crates that had never been opened, stacked like discarded boxes of thoughts. Forgotten.  He tried to picture one of the Luthor parties out on the same courtyard. It was difficult to imagine that it was nearly fifteen years ago.

Clark looked at the aged crates, thinking, that this was all that was left of Lex Luthor. Of him.

 He kneeled down to one, touched the wood grain with his hand. In the distance, he saw the Porsche.

But within the quiet of the skeletal mansion, and of Clark's thoughts, he wondered if he hadn't taken a similar path as Lex? Both spent their lives searching for the truth in their origins, for proof of somethings existence. Clark, for so long wanting his origin to be different, and Lex, finding his birthright from his father.. Had they become much different? Both alone, both obsessed with finding peace within themselves. Tortured, restless men who squandered with their destinies.

Clark's hands wrapped around the torn roof of the car. Clark tried to remember how his hands once pried open steel like paper. His powers had been gone for a long while.

The Porsche. That day, had changed everything.

"Destiny," Clark whispered,  tears growing behind his eyes, "who knew I would come to an old friend for help, Lex?" He brushed his eyes against his shoulder and looked at the serene stillness of the remains, "I wonder how things would have ended differently if I never gave up on you. We were brothers, once."

The cab of the Porsche sat quietly, Clark leaning over it, his head on top of his forearm, "I need help. And I don't have many friends left. This thing, this monster. No one can defeat it. Not Oliver, not....  any type of cure.

What if you were right, Lex? What if I  set this thing out on earth?... If I can't fix this..."

Bits of broken glass sparkled from the floorboard, Clark closed his eyes. His mind was exhausted and he refused the idea of turning to anyone else. This was the end of the road, Zatanna's mysterious calling card the last card on the table. He'd come full circle, his hands clasping the wreck that started so long ago.

He looked among the collection of life, all very familiar to him like walking into your childhood room. There were parts of airplanes, trains, buildings which Clark vaguely remembered. News paper articles, some framed, and some cracked open as if Lex had just read them in his study.

 In a way, Lex's insatiable mind was here. Speaking to him. Urging him.

Clark's  eyes settled on a dark object buried some tarps , too obtuse to be missed, but dull and low key to be neglected among the more extravagant collection.

Closer inspection showed it to be very large, atleast the size of a work van. 

Its surface was dull, and dark.  He hesitated, his nerves recognizing the kryptonite before his eyes could. He stood a ways from it, his fingers itchy with phantom tremors. But, those were non existent too.

Clark reached out, and touched the surface.

Cold.

Cold to send chills up and down his body, but he couldn't let go. His flesh was pink, healthy. Untouched. Human.

This rock, the only alien part of him at that second.  He felt apart from it, like looking from outside his own body into a dream of an alternate world he once lived inside.

Clark leaned down, and inspected it further. His fingers tracing the same octagonal indention Chloe's had before. He hadn't known how close she was to finding the truth... but for some reason, he could feel her there too.

His hands moved slowly over the surface, the smooth undulations and pits to--

Clark jerked his hand away, the sudden jagged edge slicing his palm. Blood dripped down as he stared at the point which had cut him. The meteor rock was different there, angry, gnarly and fierce in its jagged pitch and peaks. He craned his body, seeing the full side that faced away from him. There were imprint marks, gnawed scars where something had scratched itself out. A part of Clark wondered if it was him who had gnawed out of this rock, becoming the human he was now. Blood seeped from his wound, and he reached for his chest as it began to ache.

*

"There you are," Tess exclaimed, as Clark joined her again in the corridor, "I was about to have security do a full sweep looking for you."


"Sorry," Clark pushed up his glasses, "I was just exploring."


"Right, well," Tess escorted him to the door, "I'm going to have this place double staffed. I found several locks broken. Someone has been filtering in and out, no doubt."

"Looters?" Clark asked mindlessly. He could only focus one thing right now, and it wasn't the potential for burglars.

"Probably," Tess shrugged, thinking nothing of it, "find anything worthwhile to your research, Mr. Kent?" then she noticed his hand, "What happened?"

"Cut myself." Clark stammered quickly, simply.

"I see that, nothing serious I hope?" Tess asked and then countered with, "Do you ever miss your meteor abilities?"


Clark tensed, still uncomfortable discussing the topic openly like most of the cured meteor infected did with the world. Even if it was out in the open, his secret of being different from the rest was kept closed. "Yes," was what he finally said after a long pause. He didn't care to say much more.

Tess nodded. "Well, even if some of the side affects of infection were, interesting, to say the least, the liability is just mind blowing. The world is safer now that we have infection under control."

Clark said nothing to that as well, but continued to grit his teeth, "There is one question... Lex acquired a collection of Dr. Swann's journals, once. They're missing from his collection now."


Tess nodded again, "some of the collection was sold, in private auction. If you want the particulars, you'll have to contact a rep in accounting."

Clark nodded, " I appreciate you helping me with this. I'm not sure why you are helping me, but I am grateful."

Tess smiled softly, "I'm not helping you Clark. You're helping me, of course."

"How's that?"

"Even after all your abilities gone... you still have one power that I don't. I understand the power of friendship, Clark. Even if I don't have many friends outside of the office, I know that its person favors that makes the world go 'round..."

Clark looked at her, "What do you want?"


*


Later on that night, Clark sat in his truck cab, a police scanner murmuring in the background. He contemplated Tess' proposition over a cup of coffee, the midnight traffic of Metropolis passing his side window. Clark rolled it down, condensation fogging his view of the city. This was the time of night when he thought of Chloe the most.

It wasn't sadness... it was something else.

Clark swallowed more of the hot liquid until it seared the inside of his mouth. He kinda liked the sensation now, the coffee sinking down into his chest and then his stomach, making him warm inside.

Everything else felt so cold in comparison. Even Tess' manipulations. They were similar to the touch of the meteor rock in his hand. If he had attempted to pick the green rock up before, it would have seared him. Not anymore.

He held a piece of it now in his palm. When it cut him, a part had broken off and found its way into his pocket. Clark studied it curiously, the sharp extrusions like obsidian.

He took another sip of coffee.

The scanner picked up traffic, PD dispatchers talking to units nearby. Unknown disturbance, several calls, possible overturned vehicle.

Clark hummed his truck to life, and turned his wheels to veer onto the street--

A speed bike cut Clark off at a high rate.  The rider was female, leather jacket and riding helmet, as far as Clark could tell. The passenger on the back, hugging close to her torso, was Jimmy Olsen. It didn't take Clark long to figure out who was driving.

"Lois." He revved up his truck's engine and ran the light. It was a frequent occasion that he ran into Lois and Jimmy these days. And it was frequent that his truck died before he could ever catch up with them on that damned bike.

Clark burned rubber, flying down the street. Only slightly louder than his truck's heavy humming, the police scanner screeched as police units ran hot towards the call. Being behind the action was also a side affect of being normal. Clark pulled in behind the flashing lights, the squad cars peeling away from his older, heavier truck.

But that was a good thing since the next intersection exploded with overturned cars.

Clark slammed on his brakes, hard.

He barely had time to avoid hitting Jimmy and Lois who skidded to the side. A wave of police vehicles swerved left, leaving Clark open on the right.

The monster, suddenly visible from the blackness of the night, jumped into the air and landed squarely on top of Clark's hood, pitting it to the ground.

Clark stumbled out of the cab and reeled back on his hands.

Police shot up the intersection, red and blue lights swirling all around. They opened fire.

Bullets bounced away like rubber balls...  And for a moment, the smallest of moments, Clark thought he was looking into his own reflection. These people feared it, and feared it greatly. The screams deafening even over the screaming of sirens.

But Clark awoke from his reflection, and realized that this beast, was not him. It's body was casted in rude, gnarled obstructions. Eyes bloodshot, and wrathful. His breath snorted out in deep, rancid puff when it stalked closer to him. And when it came close enough, Clark knew.

 From the corner of his eye, Jimmy snapped a flash photo. The flash drew the monster's attention for a brief moment, and then, longer.

"No!" Clark shouted suddenly, and fumbled with the meteor rock in his hand. He lifted it up in the air, but the scaly black mess turned towards him with no affect.

Clark grabbed his chest, the pain greater now. It was like his dream, the one where he was buried in the ground. He felt his mouth dry out with invisible sand.

The monster lurched towards him, drawn to him, more than anything else. Worse than that, the meteor rock angered it even more, slapping it from Clark's fist and grabbing him by his neck.

It's breath fogged Clark's glasses. It's growl, freezing his soul.

This was his nightmare.