"Jack the Ripper in Smallville" A short Halloween
The rumors were true. The Ripper is here -- right here in Smallville. And I, Clark Kent, would put an end to his reign of terror. The Sheriff was either too incompetent to handle this, or as I suspect, has a secret distain for those who are the victims of this horrific series of crimes. He appears suddenly each year and, wearing a costume that prevents him from being identified later, steps out of the shadows and slashes quickly and precisely. Again and again he strikes and then disappears with his "trophies" not to be seen again for yet another year. I have heard that after he has done what he came to do, he steals as many kisses from his victims as he can before making his get-away. This year, it will end! A SCREAM! I have been lost in my thoughts. In a second I will be there. NO! I'm too late. The evidence of his crime lays before me spread across the entire width of the alley. I may be 15, but I'm still not so old and jaded that I don't find the sight deeply upsetting. What a waste! That such a treasure be scattered in pieces ... Another scream! Again, I'm too late. A circle of children gather about the crime scene disturbing the evidence. I scan the city now. Alert. Waiting. I see a sudden move. I run. I see the knife swing -- separating the "What?" from the "Mart." A young girl sobs. The perpetrator grabs a kiss and then another. He lifts his head and runs into me. His butter knife falls to the sidewalk. In his pillowcase, I see his ill-gotten gains. My X-ray vision accidentally shifts into heat mode due to my intense emotions brought on by the capture. The now-liquid chocolate from the Hershey kisses flows from collapsing foil wrappers. I remove the Ripper's mask. It's Jack Small -- Lana's half-brother. Twelve years old. A precocious child -- he must have begun his crime-spree at age 6. I lift him with one hand and tuck him under my arm as he kicks and flails in protest. His father is a decent sort. I hate to be the one to tell him that his son is the infamous Ripper of Smallville. But such is the responsibility that comes with having the powers I have.
It was Vlad's favorite night of the year. The smell of blood was in the air. All the little kiddies would soon be at the door of his castle for their trick and his treat. Yummy! Young blood! He loved the look of horror on their little faces. The doorbell rang. Vlad ran to answer it. Strangely, it was a man in a grey suit holding a briefcase. There were no kids in sight. "Is this your castle?" asked the man. "Yes," answered Vlad. "Are you Vlad D.M. Paler?" asked the man. "Yes, I am!" The man grinned widely and said, "Well, I'm Mr. Fforde with the Eternal Revenue Service. It seems you haven't paid any taxes in 142 years!" Vlad screamed and fainted.
Each of us has different things that we fear.
"BloodSucker II: Aftermath"
Vlad lay uncomfortably in his knotty pine coffin in a dilapidated storage shed behind of a pile of skids stacked near the loading docks of What?Mart. The roof was mostly missing but the rent was cheap. The supply of rats was plentiful which kept him from having to go out for snacks. He didn't want to go out anyway. He was too depressed. The Luthor's had picked up his castle at auction for cheap. The proceeds hadn't made a dent in his back taxes. In anger he bit Lionel Luthor and got violently ill from whatever it is that passes for blood in that man. The worse thing was the loss of his fine, comfortable, Craftsmatic adjustable coffin. It had a solid brass exterior with pearl inlay. He missed the fine silk lining. He wasn't even allowed to keep the pillow that he had carried as a child and had slept with his entire life and death. Vlad uncorked some holes where the knots had fallen out of the boards. He had failed to remember to re-cork them the night before and gotten a bad ear-burn from the sunlight streaming in. He began to read by the moonlight. WAIT A MINUTE! "To be continued." Now he would HAVE to go out. He wasn't allowed to keep his computer either. Hope the Ledger had enough ink left in their inkjet printer. Last time he printed off a chapter, the printer ran out of ink. He spent half the night trying to replace and print with a new cartridge only to find that he hadn't removed the little green tape over the ink exit holes. Technology! Tonight he was lucky. Plenty of ink, plenty of paper. Vlad walked himself through his new routine, "Type in "www.thewb.com" look up the Huge Pedlar Fan Fic thread. OK. Found the link. Copy and Paste. OK Here we are. Wow. 3 new chapters. OK. Printing. Wait. Hmmm. Anything new on this wall of weird. This stuff is so ridiculous. What kind of idiot would believe this stuff. OK. Staple the chapters and head home." Back in his pine coffin, he began to read again. He mumbled to himself, "If she doesn't have a super-vampire kick this Cassie's butt soon I'm going to have to post something nasty. A mere girl couldn't take on someone like me. I said I wouldn't post again, but if this story doesn't turn around and let the vampires get the upper hand soon, Verses will hear from "BloodDoomed" again!
[I thought it was strange that the sequel was 3 times as long as the original story.]
"The Horseless Head Woman of Kent Farm"
Chapter One: "The Injury"
The combine's motor was suspended by block and tackle above the floor of the main barn for repairs. Since Jon had finished the repairs and Clark had finished up by giving the engine a good lubing, Clark unhooked it to carry it back to the combine. Just then Jon strolled in and said "Hey Clark, there's a package for you here." Almost immediately, Clark's legs buckled and the heavy motor fell onto his left leg pinning him to the floor. Jonathan rushed closer asking in a panic, "What happened?!" Clark stuttered through his pain, "Must .. be .. Kryptonite .. in the package. Take it away!" Jon started to leave then turned back, "I know it hurts, Son, but if I take the kryptonite away and your leg is broken, it may heal back together wrong -- and we may not be able to re-set it. I'll have to try to set your leg before I take the kryptonite away." Behind him they heard the beeping of a cell phone being dialed. Lionel Luthor was talking into the phone, "Yes, I need an ambulance at the Kent Farm, there's been an accident. Clark Kent is pinned under an engine of some sort. Hurry." Jon ignored Lionel's presence, released the block and tackle, reattached it to the motor and used it to lift the motor from Clark's leg. Soon the paramedics arrived. They said that the leg was badly bruised but, despite the pain he was obviously feeling, there was probably only had a minor fracture. They tied a split to the leg and started to get him ready for transport. Jonathan stopped them and thanked them for what they had done, but he said would take his son to his own physician. They told Jonathan to make sure he got him looked at immediately. As they pulled away, he turned on Lionel and said "What they he11 are you doing here?" "Well, I was heading over to visit my son an I wanted to see if the package I had sent Clark had arrived. It's a sculpture chiseled out of meteor rock by a local artist. Somehow I thought Clark would get a kick out of it." Jonathan picked up the package from Clark's side and shoved it into Lionel's hands. "Take it and get off my property. We don't want anything from you." Lionel smiled and said "Glad I could be of a.s.s.istance in your time of need -- just like you were there for my son when he needed help." He turned on his heel and left quickly. As soon as he got in his limo, he opened his cell phone and made a call. "Yes, Miss Sullivan. I thought you might want to know. Your friend Clark has had a minor mishap. Nothing really. But this would be a good opportunity for you to come by and keep an eye on your friend. Toodles."
Chapter Two: "The Added Insult"
When Chloe showed up, she found that Clark was wearing a cast. He didn't need it but Lionel's visit had made it a necessary misdirection. "Come to sign my cast?" Clark asked. Chloe answered, "Well, I'm here for a few reasons. Of course, I wanted to see how you are doing. It seems you're not as invulnerable as we always -assume you to be. Second, I need a favor and I thought the timing was good for it. Is your Father or Mother here?" "Dad! Chloe wants to talk to you."
Jon: "Chloe, how are you doing? Haven't seen you in a while."
Chloe: "I'm fine, Sir. I need a favor. My editor at the Planet had an idea that I should write a city girl's perspective on farm work. A grunt like me can't pick and choose her -assignments. I have to do what I'm told or get lost. So, I thought with Clark laid up I could maybe hang around and help out a bit."
Jon: "Well Clark got most the heavy work done before the accident and he is getting around with his crutch almost as good as I get around on two good legs. It really isn't necessary."
Chloe: "Maybe I could help out Mrs. Kent or something. I really NEED this more than you could know."
Jon: "Well Mrs. Kent is gone this week at a marketing seminar learning how to sell some of her home-made products on the internet."
Chloe: "Better yet. I could help do some of the chores she normally does here. I would help anyway I could!"
Jon: "Well, you're not really dressed for it. A mini-shirt isn't much protection for farming chores. But I guess we can start you out with some light chores. You can be the Head Woman on the farm this week. Clark. Have the horses been fed?"
Clark: "I was just about to."
Jon: "Well, show Chloe the ropes."
Chloe: "Oh, thank you Mr. Kent. You won't regret it. I promise!"
Clark took Chloe to the stable and passed all the horse stalls to the empty stall where they kept the grains they fed their horses.
Chloe: "They are so beautiful! Are they all yours?"
Clark: "Just 2. The rest are just boarded here. This is the amount of each type of grain you give to the horses. Don't over feed them. We don't want them to over eat. Sometimes some of the horses have dietary restrictions. None that we have right now need anything special that I can't take care of easier than explaining it to you. I'm not trying to talk down to you, it's just that once you get to know the personalities of the horses, it's easier to remember who needs what. Here is Mom's special treat for the horses. This vat is full of a mixture of molasses and oats that the horses go crazy for. When they have finished the rest of their feed, fill one of these containers for each of them. But keep this vat latched securely. All the horses we have now are real escape artists. They can work the latches pretty good if given a chance. So close the vat, latch it and latch the stall when you leave. Got it. If Old Max got in here, he would lick the varnish off that vat just to make sure he got every drop."
Chloe: "Is that all? This is a piece of cake."
Clark: "Oh, here is my pullover. It's getting a bit chilly and you might want to pull the hood up. It will keep your blouse clean too. Now, tomorrow, wear denims -- denim pants that is."
Chloe: "Yes, Sir. The Head Woman of the farm listens and obeys Oh -assistant to the Head man of the farm." [Chloe salutes Clark and he hobbles off.]
Chloe began making six piles of grains for the horses intending to run each pile down to each horse stall. She is very proud of her logic in organizing her -assigned task. But soon she ran out of rye. She stepped up on a bail of hay to grab some more rye, but she lost her footing and fell butt first into the vat of molasses and grains. She pulled herself out and went looking through the stable for something to use wipe herself off. Then she noticed something was wrong. ALL the horses were gone. She was left in charge of them and they were gone. What she failed to notice was that each stall has an outside door to the attached fenced pasture. The horses let themselves out to follow Clark since he is normally the one who feeds them. A frantic Chloe decided to search for the horses and went into Old Max's stall. It seemed impossible for him to hide in there but she was in a panic and didn't know what to do. Then she heard Clark inside the stable talking to Pete, "She was here a minute ago. Maybe she wet up to the house." Before Chloe could call out to them, she heard Clark say, "No, Pete, she doesn't have a clue. I haven't told her a thing. I really want her to be the last to find out." Chloe ducked her head down so she could continue to overhead the conversation without being seen. The hood of the pullover got snagged on the gate of the stall and she couldn't work it loose without being heard. Just then, Old Max returned to his stall to see if his meal was ready yet. His nostrils flared as he smelled his favorite treat of all! Chloe didn't notice his return as she listened to here Clark say, "Yes, Pete, there is no way Chloe's going to know what costume I'm wearing to the Halloween party this year."
Chloe was startled when Old Max began sniffing at her. She turned as best she could and saw a crack of light from the door to the pasture. Now she knew how the horses had gone from the barn and how Max had return. She knew that Max was a gentle horse that was often used to give rides to small children. She had no reason to fear ... did she? Then there was this warm and wet feeling and she almost banged her head on the gate -- she almost screamed out. But she would not let Clark and Pete learn of her predicament. They would leave soon enough and she would pull herself free. They would not get the satisfaction of having an embarrassing story about her to tell time and again. She would be strong. She would have the satisfaction. Surely Max would give up soon. Then she thought of the varnish on the vat and that Old Max would never stop. She kept telling herself that she could stand it. She gripped the gate hard and tried to imagine herself someplace else. But she heard Clark and Pete beginning to discuss a football game and knew that they could continue that forever. Suddenly Chloe heard a scream. She realized it was her. The gate swung open pulling her head forward. Clark pulled loose the hood of the jacket from where it was snagged. She looked up and saw a confused expression on Clark's face. Old Max was intent on continuing his snack but Clark easily pushed him back into his stall and latched the gate. After a stunned moment, Chloe pulled off the pullover and tied the arms of it around her waste. Since it was Clark's, it made a more than adequate cover-up for her. Pete started laughing uncontrollably. Clark asked "What were you doing in there?"
Chloe: "Max disappeared and I went in there to look for him and then got snagged. Your pullover was too big for me and I couldn't work myself free."
Clark: "Why didn't you call out? We were right here?"
Chloe: "Max scared me and I couldn't say anything."
Pete: "Chloe not say anything? Scared of that big p.u.s.s.y.cat? You were snooping, weren't you -- and you got caught. Not so cunning this time. You didn't use your head. Maybe you should dress up for Halloween as Ichabod Chloe -- Headless Horse Woman of Smallville Hollow."
Chloe: "Headless. Hardly!" said Chloe with a pout. You're definitely on my list now."
Clark: "Are you OK Chloe, you look a little flushed and you're trembling."
Chloe: "Thanks Clark. I'm OK. I'm just a little shaken is all. I think I have more than enough material for my article. Would you mind feeding the horses? I want to get home and take a shower. I laid the food out in piles down in the food storage stall."
Clark: "I noticed that. Hey, the vat with the molasses mix was almost empty. Did you give the horses that first?"
Chloe: "No, I just spilled a little. Max ate what got spilled so he shouldn't need any more tonight."
Clark: "Are you coming back tomorrow to give him some more?" [Chloe's eyes got really big and her face turned red. She shook her head no and turned and waved goodbye as she dashed away.] "Hey, my jacket."
Chloe: [Without turning or showing down] "I'll get it back to you tomorrow." [She darted out of the stable and bounced off Jonathan's chest.]
Jon: "Whoa! Are you OK?"
Chloe: "Yes, I'm fine. Just not cut out for farming it seems."
Jon: "Did you get some molasses on you?"
Chloe: "WHERE!" [She looked behind herself.]
Jon: "I don't see any. I just smelled it. You fed the horses Martha's molasses mash didn't you? The horses love that stuff. And it's all natural. If you get any on yourself, you can just lick it right off. I've had it for breakfast before when we've run out of cereal."
Chloe: "I've REALLY gotta go Mr. Kent. It was so kind of you to let me come."
Chloe turned beet red again and ran off to her little car and sped off down the lane.
"Horse Head Revisited"
Clark smelled smoke coming from Old Max's stall. He swung open the gate and found Chloe leaning against the wall smoking. "Chloe! What are you doing here? I didn't know you smoked!" Chloe said, "I just took it up. I just came by to give Max something for trick or treat. By the way, it's polite to knock before entering a horse's stall."