Chapter 15.b

Clark lay on the floor that was two-layered – with metal on the bottom and glass above it; a solitary shaft of light from a dull bulb shined above him.  Motionless was he, save for the steady rise and fall as he breathed.  He was curled most uncomfortably into himself; his knees and lower legs as well as his arms were all propped against the floor close to each other as the rest of him was folded so that one could see his exposed back.  It had been over an hour since they had exposed to the kryptonite that was stored below the layers of steel and glass.  This was Room 4: a place of punishment for any man who came to know the one named Makoto Shishio.

The only door that served as entrance and exit hissed open and someone walked in – their stride slow and precise; light and feminine.

“Kent-san,” the woman called out in a mocking sultry sing-song voice.

Lifelessly, Clark’s upper body drew up so that he was facing Yumi.  The woman noted that the boy had given in – what with the lack of expression in his hollow gaze.  He was looking straight at her – but did not see her in particular.  He was looking straight through her; no focus, she thought with a smirk.  His punishment had worked.  He would be their puppet from then on until they had nothing more to do with him.  Then a little injection of kryptonite into his body, and then you can say good-bye to the boy of steel!  She could hardly keep in the giggle that was bubbling up her throat.

Mechanically, the young man moved to get up, chest and back covered in a film of sweat and rippling enticingly in the dim light.  Yumi enjoyed the view for the moment before she turned around and walked out.  She didn’t say anything for she thought that her actions spoke loud enough for him to know that he was to follow her lead.  He made no attempt to escape at that moment, knowing that there was nowhere he could really go that wasn’t heavily guarded with men holding the deadly green rock.

They walked through a series of hallways – all around them there was the shiny glass and hard cold steel layers; silent warnings; almost jeering at him to even try anything.  Finally, Yumi stopped directly in front of a yet-to-be-opened door and made a sideward glance at the Clark.  She folded her arms, an action that made her cleavage all the more defined.  His brown eyes didn’t even glance down at them; too forgone to see anything but a bleak future; endless as the maze of corridors they were in.  His posture slumped in clear defeat he waited for the door to open before he trudged inside.  There, Shishio lay on a low mattress surrounded by plush pillows and with a plate of sashimi in front of him.  The man covered in bandages and loose samurai attire grinned at the one who just entered and brought a slim piece of raw tuna to his lips with the chopsticks.

“How are you fairing, Kent-san?” the man asked before he slipped the fish meat into his mouth.  Red, dead meat; he chews it deliberately and precisely; he’s enjoying it so much.  Clark watched the man eat the piece for a moment, struggling to prevent himself from throwing up at the sight.  “I asked you a question, boy.”

“Fine,” he mumbled in reply.  But he wasn’t feeling fine.  There was a sinking feeling in his stomach.  There was something in the Japanese man’s demeanour that told him he was up to something… something big.

“Well, from the look that you’re giving me, I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve brought you here.”

The samurai – a title undeserving to him – turned his head away from Clark and motioned for someone to come out of a shadowed nook in the room.  His brown eyes trailed sluggishly towards the same direction and at the point that he saw the figure, his previously dull gaze became instantly animated – filled with utter disbelief and horror.  “You – what are you doing here?” he demanded, taking a single step towards the person.

“I thought I’d introduce the two of you, but it seems that you’ve already been acquainted previously!  Oh my stars,” Shishio berated himself sarcastically with a harsh smile on his face.

“What do you mean, ‘what am I doing here’?  Am I not allowed to be part of a raunchy group like this?”  The figure unsheathed a sword and pointed it directly at the young man.  “You think I’m weak, but I’m not.  I’m strong, damn it!  You have so little faith in me!”  The individual charged at him and tried to cleave him in half.  Clark was faster, however, and stopped the hand from coming down with the sword.

“Stop it, both of you!” Shishio commanded in an angry tone.

Instantly, the sword clattered to the ground and Clark watched the person kneel respectfully to the bandaged man.  Shishio chuckled.  “So eager, my young follower.”

“Always, shishou-sama,” came the muffled reply.

The older man snapped his eyes towards Clark.  “And so disrespectful, you are,” he muttered in disdain.  “Well, that can be easily remedied.”  Someone from another hidden corner came out and handed a box to him.  Shishio held it gently, watching his young prisoner’s face and beckoning him closer.  “I had his made for you, Kent-san.”

Once Clark was close enough, he opened the box, revealing a beautifully crafted pendant – shaped and with engravings identical to the same mark he had carried those few months in Metropolis when Jor El was testing him.  It was the inverted pentagon with the two circles within the perimeter of the shape.  Clark blinked.  It was a beautiful piece and the symbol it had was so personal that he couldn’t help but feel a certain affinity to it.

“Go on,” Shishio urged bringing it closer to the young man and causing him to jump slightly back.  “Take it.”

Clark was slightly suspicious of it, but he took it anyway, marvelling at how heavy it actually was despite it’s the compact size.  The entire thing – pendant and chain – was made of a hoary metal, that Clark was sure could not be silver.

“Adamantium,” he was told.  “It’s very strong – impenetrable, but highly malleable when in liquid form.  It reminds me of you, in many ways, Kent; strong and unbreakable unless exposed to your single-most threatening enemy: the green kryptonite.”

Clark pursed his lips and felt like giving the thing back.  “Wear it, Kent-san.  I will be deeply disappointed if you don’t.”

It was a euphemistic way of saying something far more horrible would be done to him if he didn’t wear it.  So the young man put it around his neck.  Clark lifted the pendant and fiddled with it, suddenly feeling imprisoned by it.  He knew there was something wrong with it, but when he tried his x-ray vision on it, he could not see through it.

“You don’t trust me?”  Shishio looked taken back.

“I never trust people who torture others in such a way that you’ve done with me,” the auburn-haired man said pointedly.

“You deserved it,” the figure hissed, getting out of the bowed position.  “All those who don’t follow the rules are punished for it.  You broke the rules, Clark.  You must suffer the consequences.”

“Now, now, that’s enough.  Clark,” Shishio regarded the half-nude man.  “I know that you feel contained, so I thought that after your time in Room 4, you’d like to have a nice stroll around Metropolis.  Don’t worry,” he added with a grin.  “You won’t have anyone with you.  It will be just you and your little pendant and whatever other clothes I will provide you.”

“Why are you suddenly so nice to me?”

“Well, I think everyone is entitled to freedom, Clark.  You haven’t been out for a whole week, so I thought I would reward you.  And afterwards, your real work will begin.”  The grin became a sneer.  “We will be targeting the Shinomori family again, only this time we’ll first get those associated with them.  That means the Luthor’s first – along with that bastard child.”

Clark pursed his lips, trying not to show his horror at the prospect of going against someone he could almost trust.  He gave a tight nod, however, and was soon being escorted out to head to another room where he got a chance to bathe and choose his clothing.

Back where Shishio was, the person shook a disappointed head.  “I thought he would be happy to see me.”

“Apparently not,” the bandaged man chuckled sardonically.

“He really is an idiot,” the person muttered, getting up and pacing.  “What the hell is wrong with him?”

“He doesn’t see, young one.  He doesn’t understand our way; doesn’t understand how we would be helping rid the world of those that are dirty and useless.”

“More like those who have destroyed the dreams of others,” the individual seethed; eyes flashing and hands clenching angrily.  “I’m so glad that I killed Lionel; that bastard ruined so many lives.  He deserved to die a horrible and painful death.  Does Clark see that it was supposed to be that way?”

“No, he doesn’t, unfortunately.”

“Someone ought to slap some sense into him.”

“He will come to realize his destiny is to destroy those who threaten those who are not as privileged.”  Shishio picked up another piece of sashimi from his plate and ate it, his teeth sinking into the fish’s delicate muscles and feeling the raw stuff slide down his throat, coated with his saliva.

~~ o0o ~~

Shishio’s men escorted Clark only until the entrance to the building – on the outside, it looked like an abandoned warehouse of sorts in the outskirts of Metropolis close to the port, but inside, everything was plush, clean, expensive and most importantly, new.  Even the things that he was wearing were new; down to his underwear.  Once he stepped outside, they closed the entrance quickly leaving him alone. Alone.  Something churned in his stomach at the idea.  For now, he would be just that: alone as he walked through Metropolis – one last time.  Then it would be back to his prison – or suffer more at the hands of his Japanese master.

Clark looked across the river that lay before him; the rushing water going in the opposite direction of the way to the city.  The wind blew out into the same direction as the moving river – towards the sea.  To another place; a place where there didn’t exist bandaged men with a fierce desire for revenge.  He began to walk slowly towards the tall buildings – if he ran in his full potential speed, he could get there in a matter of minutes… but he chose to walk; a slow, deliberate stride.  He had no particular place he felt he needed to go… not at that moment.

He allowed his mind to wander; think of how exactly he got there.  He thought of how he had been in the middle of fixing the fence at the Kent farm – alone; Mom and Dad were in town – when the men with green kryptonite in their possession came and took him away with them.  He recalled how once they reached Shishio’s hiding place they slipped a potent mixture of hypnotic substances and red kryptonite – Murasaki; that’s what they called the substance – into his blood.

He remembered blacking out and only waking up when one of the men with him put a gun against Lionel’s head and shot a hole straight through before another man slit his stomach then began to write a message across the dead man’s chest with a tanto.  The place was a mess; he noticed part of the walls had a sizzling line across it.  He had used his heated ray vision before he became conscious of his actions.  He recalled panicking and running away before the men could restrain him.  He had gone back to his parents, told them what had happened and with a tearful goodbye, had run away yet again.  But in the course of a few weeks they found him.  That left him in his current position.  He was about to endanger his friend; a friend he hadn’t seen in a few years.  A friend who knew about his secret and was angry at him because he lied for all those years while insisting he was being truthful the whole time.

A look of resolve came over Clark’s face.  He would warn Lex; tell him to leave or else he would be in direct threat of Shishio Makoto.  It was then he ran; ran faster than he ever had in his entire life just to help the only person who probably had the means to help him in return.