Furious Angels
            by Nymph Du Pave
 

            CHAPTER EIGHT:  Abdication

            The hand was holding the back of his neck, pulling him up to his feet then off of the ground by a good three to four inches.

            He kicked at the legs beneath him, but to no avail.  They were like stone.

            "Lex!"

            He heard Jonathon's shout but didn't have the time nor the brain power to process it.  He was suddenly too busy trying to remember how to breathe properly.

            "Freezing your throat shut, Luthor," came a vile but clearly strained voice.  "How's that feel?"

            "Just fine," he whispered and kicked in between Shawn's legs again.  Nothing happened.  The only reaction was Shawn's laughter, a hideous hissing noise that Lex remembered from years of childhood asthma. Even as he tried it a second and third time, all he recieved in return for his trouble was the snake-like laughter.

            His throat was constricting again but this time not out of emotions and much worse.  He felt an ice cold sensation start to encircle his windpipe, as if he'd drunk too much chilled water in a single gulp.  He grasped at Shawn's hands, scraping them desperately with his fingers, not even noticing as cold, blue flesh came off underneath his manicured nails.

            At the same time as he was realizing his windpipe was about to be cut off, Jonathon stood up and charged Shawn.  Lex watched the man come within a foot of them and then, at the very last minute, shut his eyes, fearing the pending painful collision of body parts.

            The three of them landed in a pile on the ground, Shawn's hand still on him and his right leg at a bizarre angle and feeling separated from his body.  He felt the cold hand leave the back of his neck and wind all around.  He opened his eyes and, shocked, realized that Shawn had thrown him.  He was flying effortlessly to the left of Shawn and Jonathon as if he were a blow up doll, leaving him to slam gracelessly into a tree.  He slid down the trunk, his back being viciously cut by the bark, and landed in an aching lump.

            Glancing back, he watched Jonathon straddle and deck his younger opponent.  If anything, years of farming had given the elder Kent upper arm strength, and the man really knew how to deck someone.

            Shawn picked Jonathon up from under his arms and he brought his feet to the older and larger man's stomach, then pushed.  Lex watched in horror as the 'kick' tossed Jonathon over the top of cliff.  Kent flew out of his sight, up above and beyond, not making a sound.  Lex wasn't sure how far Shawn had thrown him, but the fact that he didn't hear Clark's dad land worried him greatly.

            His throat began to open up more, just as Shawn turned in his direction but he couldn't move away when he saw the boy start to stalk towards him.  He couldn't do anything but panic, heart racing, breath becoming quick and shallow, chest heaving.

            I don't want to die… do I?  Why... why am I so upset?

            Shawn reached him, picked him up by his sweater and hefted Lex above his shoulders by two feet.  Lex's feet dangled, his right leg feeling painfully damaged, collapsed into itself.

            "I'll take care of the old man later.  Right now, I'm thinking I have some pressing business here.  With you."

            Oh, God, I-

            A chilled, rock hard hand slipped under his sweater and undershirt, causing Lex to shiver.

           "Oh, yeah, Luthor.  You're nice and warm."

           His warmth began to seep into the steely fingers and Shawn closed his eyes in all of Lex's heated glory.

           Clark, he thought.  This is what happened to Clark.

            Lex's thoughts stopped, his breathing slowed, as did his pulse.  He looked into the eyes of his best friend's murderer and just gave up.
 
 
 
 

            TBC Tomorrow