Nefarious
Dark, damp… Cold. Very cold. Chills ran down his spine… His? He looked down at his naked form and… Yes, certainly a male. But what was that, exactly? What… Where was he? Everything was so foreign, surroundings unfamiliar. What could be his purpose here?
“Don’t be alarmed, my son,” a calm, odd and somewhat gravelly voice rang out from behind him, and he whirled to see a tall man. He wore a black trench-coat over a crisp, white shirt with a tie, and his dark hair cascaded in waves to his shoulders.
“Wh-” he cleared his dry throat. “Where… am I? Who… who are you?” His own voice seemed almost unfamiliar.
“Well,” the stranger replied. “Think of me as… your guide. I saved you, brought you back from the brink when I could’ve seen your soul lost to the gates of hades.”
Nonsense. The strange man spoke utter nonsense.
“Whitney, look at me.”
He blinked at the name. Whitney… That was what he’d been called all of his life. But… Why was it so hard for him to remember that life?
“I know who stole your memories, tried to take your life from you.”
Heat shot down Whitney’s spine.
“Who? Who did this to me?”
“He did,” the tall man pointed to a large portrait on the wall to his right. As the face on the photo came into focus, Whitney was assaulted by flashes of memory…
“Lane,” Whitney groaned.
“Yes,” the stranger said sadly. “He killed her. She died, bloodied and broken, harshly. Her throat crushed, she… She perished in your arms, son.”
“She’s… she can’t be…”
“She’s gone, son,” the man said sternly. “Nothing can bring her back, not even me. Her injuries were simply too great… All that is left for you now is to find the one responsible, and end his life. When you’ve finished, you’re to bring his body back to me. Can you do that for me, Whitney?”
“I… He… He’s too strong.” Enough fragmented pieces of memory had surfaced for Whitney to be reminded of Clark’s abilities, that strength, speed…
“He is far from invulnerable, you know that a well as I do. I can provide to you the tools required to see that he comes to… Well, as swift or as slow and painful an end as you desire.”
“He… He knows that I know his weakness. I would never even get close…”
“Oh, he will come to you, son. I can assure you of that. You see, I know just what it is he desires most to protect in the entire world.”
“What?” Whitney asked. His hands were shaking, but not from the cold. In fact, he hardly registered that anymore. Anger… It boiled up inside of him and consumed every idea, every iota of his being.
“Miss Sullivan,” the man told him. “Surely you recognize her.”
Whitney looked to the wall and noticed another picture, smaller than the one of Clark. A young woman, blonde, short… beautiful.
“Chloe…” Whitney shook his head. “But she… her and Lana, they were best friends.”
“Oh, I don’t intend for anything to happen to Miss Sullivan. In fact, if any harm should befall her, I will make sure that it is Clark who finishes what he started with you, instead of the other way around.” The eye’s of the man flashed eerily in the dark.
“What’s to stop me from killing you first?” Whitney challenged. He suddenly found that he was repulsed by this strange person, and in fact, he very much wished to see his head ripped from his shoulders. The gaudy words proved too bold, for the man lifted a hand to reveal a small, hand-held device. At a touch of one of the buttons, Whitney felt an overwhelming and horrifying pain erupt through his whole body. he gasped as the muscles tightened and he began to thrash and convulse violently. The agony lasted only a few moments before they sensations subsided, and he whimpered as he struggled to catch his breath.
“You are here for one purpose,” the stranger declared. “You will bring me the broken body of Kal-El. You can do that, or I can see to it that what’s left of you stays right here, in the dark, where it will never be found. You have one chance, Whitney, to make things right.”
Clark. His eyes snapped to the photo of that rigid farm boy face. Whitney pushed to his feet and approached the canvas, which he was quick to rip off the wall with a blood curdling roar. As he stood there with chest heaving, he saw something… A box, a small chest really. It looked ancient, like something from the middle ages. He lifted the lid and found a small handgun. Whitney picked it up and release the magazine into his off-hand to reveal an eerie green glow from each projectile inside. He felt his heart rush with elation as he imagined each round blasting through Clark’s chest.
“What is – ” He turned around, but the question fell flat. He was alone in the room. He noticed then a pair of jeans, with socks, boots and a t-shirt. All his size. He’d donned them in a few moments, and with that unique weapon tucked into his belt and hidden by his shirt, he moved to the light that came from a set of stairs at the end of the room.
The Gallows
“Clark!” Chloe’s voice was panicked, shrill. “He – he’s back, I don’t, I don’t know how or… Help me, Clark, I’m at the – “
Her voice was cut off with a grunt. The line clicked and disconnected.
“Chloe!” Clark yelled into the phone.
“Not Chloe,” a familiar, deep voice spoke through the tiny speaker. “She’s… indisposed.”
“Who is this?!” Clark asked angrily. His spine was tingling, his teeth clenched. “I swear, if you hurt her – “
“Oh, I’m way past hurting her, Clark. I think I’ll carve her up into tiny little pieces and let you find what’s left of her. How does that sound… Kent?”
The way the voice said his name…
“Whitney?” Clark asked. He clicked the device to speaker and waved for Lex to come closer.
“Surprised, aren’t you, Clark?” He could practically feel Whitney sneering through the phone. “I’m going to give you a chance that you never gave me: a chance to save the girl you love.”
“Save her… Whitney, don’t do this, this… It isn’t you.”
“It is now, Kent! You made sure of that when you took the only good thing I ever had in my life. Lana was everything, everything and you ripped her away from me!”
Clark swallowed the rapidly rising lump in his throat. At a gesture from Lex, he pressed the mute button.
“Be careful, Clark,” Lex told him. “He’s clearly unhinged, which means he’ll be unpredictable, dangerous. You need to keep him calm if you want to help Chloe.”
Clark nodded, and tried to listen to what Whitney was saying.
“- what it feels like,” Whitney was saying. “To see her, watch her die, her body broken…”
“Whitney, you’re right,” Clark choked the words out forcefully. “I deserve to pay for… for what I did. Let’s settle it, just you and me.”
“Do you really think I’d be stupid enough to face you, Clark?” Whitney barked. “You’d use those special powers of yours to squash me like a bug, just like you killed those terrorists back in Sulawesi.”
The narrowed brow of Lex Luthor was not at all lost on Clark a that particular declaration.
“What then, Whitney? How do we make this a fair fight?”
“Remember the old foundry?” Whitney asked quietly. “Meet me there in… 90 seconds, or she dies.”
The line clicked, and with an angry expletive, Clark sent the phone flying against the wall where it shattered into a hundred pieces.
“The foundry, what’s so special about that place?” Lex asked. Clark had put his hands up over his head.
“It was the site of a direct hit from the largest meteor in Smallville.” he explained. “The rocks, they’re everywhere there.”
“Clark, you can’t go,” Lex told him. “It’s a trap, and you know it. Without your powers… He’ll kill you.”
“Lex, I have to try!” Clark told him, and he’d started to take off when Lex grabbed his arm.
“Wait,” Lex told him. “Come with me.”
“Make it fast,” Clark replied breathlessly. “In 65 seconds, Chloe dies…”
“Right through here.” Lex moved to the fireplace, and after placing his hands in a few spots, the whole of the wall came off its center and was pulled out of the way by unseen hinges. Inside were a number of artifacts, but Lex was quick to remove a unique piece of armor from its stand.
“It’s pure lead,” Lex told him as he extended it out with both hands. “Take it. So heavy it was ultimately useless to the knight that first bore this over five centuries ago but… Maybe it will give you the edge you need.”
Clark took a deep breath, and as fast as one could snap his fingers, he’d donned the breastplate, concealed beneath his plaid shirt.
“Good lu – ” Lex had started to say, but Clark was already gone.
Copyright © 2022 D.M. Kurtz
D.M. Kurtz 