Raptor

Written by Mark and Ben Verheiden
Art by Roy Allan Martinez

Story originally told in:
Smallville: The Comic # 1
October 2002

Note: This story takes place before the season 1 finale.

But to me, the bland façade is like one of the elaborate optical illusions they print to fill space on the Sunday comics page. My job is to fill that void with the school paper, ‘The Torch’.

Cut to inside the Torch offices. Chloe is talking on the phone while checking something on the computer.

CHLOE: Hi, my name’s Chloe Sullivan, with ‘The Torch’? I was trying to locate a patient named Justin Gaines… ‘The Torch’. It’s a newspaper. What do you mean ‘what kind of newspaper’? Like the famous image of the Victorian woman combing her hair at her vanity…stare at her long enough, you begin to see a human skull.

Stare long enough at Smallville High and you might start seeing weirdness underneath.

I mean, we’re talking about a school where last year’s football coach immolated himself in a spontaneous combustion incident, and our last principal was pancaked by a telekinetic named Justin Gaines, wielding a flying car.

Now, some people might chalk up this cluster of the inexplicable to ‘coincidence’, but me?

I say it all started with the meteor shower.

1989…a great year for Paula Abdul, the original George Bush and Indiana Jones…but hell on earth for Smallville, Kansas.

Fragments of the meteor went everywhere, entering the soil, the groundwater, and logically the bloodstream of anything that happened to be living in proximity. Call me a little paranoid, but I think there’s a link.

In fact, I can only think of one semi-decent thing to come out of that whole disastrous time…

…and his name is Clark Kent.

Suddenly, Clark appears at the doorway.

CLARK: Chloe, what are you doing? T-Minus two minutes and counting!

CHLOE: (on phone) Oops, sorry…gotta go. And don’t worry, I’ll ignore that crack about ‘student journalists’.

*****

Cut to outside the school, where several students are boarding a bus.

CHLOE: Thanks for saving me, Clark. There are few things more journalistically demeaning than hearing the dial tone just for saying hello.

CLARK: Look at the bright side. At least you’ve finally got out of transcribing the weekly lunch menu.

CHLOE: Thanks for the pick-me-up, but I want ‘The Torch’ to hew to the same standards as a so-called ‘real’ newspaper. You don’t see the editor of the Daily Planet going over cheerleading schedules or running to catch a bus.

Clark smirks at her.

CLARK: I don’t see them barely getting C’s in Mr. Archer’s science class, either. Besides, this field trip actually sounds like fun.

They get on the bus.

*****

Cut to a dig site outside of Smallville. The students leave the bus, Clark and Chloe among them.

‘Fun’ as in sloughing through a U. of Kansas paleological excavation just this side of Smallville city line.

CLARK: Wow. This is really…something…

Clark notices Lana helping the professor with some digging.

The faraway look in Clark’s eyes could have been reflecting his fascination with the idea that dinosaurs actually roamed this land eons ago, but I suspect it had more to do with his inexplicable obsession with a certain Lana Lang.

Lana picks a small piece of bone up out of the rubble and examines it.

LANA: This is beautiful, Professor.

Just then, a boy shoves Clark out of the way as he runs past.

CLARK: Hey, easy!

The boy looks at him, annoyed.

BOY: What are you looking at, Kent? It’s just dirt. You wanna play statue, do it somewhere else.

Chloe gives him an evil look.

CHLOE: Whoa. I can smell the tangy, right-guardy aroma of testosterone from here.

The jerk with the elbow-to-the-eye attitude was Greg Fox. Weird thing was, he used to be a not-so-bad guy. But not-so-bad had become seriously messed up in recent months.

He hadn’t cracked Smallville’s most-wanted list, but he’d definitely developed a taste for patriotic explosives. It didn’t pay to be a mailbox around Greg’s M-80 collection.

Greg wanders around the site, looking around.

GREG: I’m so impressed. Find a few bones, and everybody goes ga-ga…

Suddenly, Lex appears behind him.

GREG: Huh?

LEX: Nice attitude. If it weren’t such a cliché, I’d say I was experiencing déjà vu. You’re Stan Fox’s kid, aren’t you?

GREG: I’m surprised you remember. Since you’ve been spending so much time wrecking people’s lives.

Greg storms away just as Clark approaches Lex.

Speaking of unlikely friends, Clark and Lex Luthor were among the unlikeliest. The scion of a billionaire and the adopted son of a Smallville farmer. It made as much sense as anything else in Smallville.

CLARK: Lex, what are you doing here?

LEX: Keeping an eye on a valuable asset. This piece of land has been in Luthor hands for years.

They kneel down to examine one of the bone structures that have been dug up.

LEX: My father was about to plow it under when they discovered these remains. Raptors, Tyrannosaurus Rex. It’s amazing what you find when you scrape just under the surface.

Lana appears behind them, causing both Lex and Clark to turn around.

LANA: Greg looked like he wanted to take a swing at you, Lex. Is there a problem?

LEX: His father was let got from the plant a few weeks ago, Lana. Firings are never pleasant, but he attacked his foreman. His dismissal was entirely deserved.

Several feet behind them, Greg is watching from a distance. His eyes narrow in anger.

GREG: If that bald freak thinks he can just blow past what he did to my old man, I’ll give him something else to think about.

He reaches into his pocket and takes out a stick of dynamite.

LEX: Sounds like you know the Fox family.

LANA: Greg and I used to be…close. His mother died a few years ago. Greg and his father haven’t been getting along since.

While the other two continue talking, Clark’s ears pick up the sound of a match lighting. Quickly, he turns in Greg’s direction.

CLARK: Wait…what’s he doing?

Greg is startled, realizing that Clark knows what he’s up to.

GREG: Wha?

He drops the dynamite.

I guess Greg thought it would be some sort of justice to drop an M-80 on Lex’s expensive head. What he wasn’t doing was considering the consequences…

He tries to catch the stick, but it rolls near a box of blasting caps.

GREG: Dammit…!

Like that he was in a working excavation, complete with major league explosives, or that an M-80 packs the explosive equivalent of a quarter stick of dynamite.

Suddenly, Clark runs towards Greg. He calls out to Lana and Lex…

CLARK: Stay back!

LANA: Clark?

Greg reaches for the dynamite, which has fallen among a few shards of green, glowing rocks. The wick begins to burn out…

GREG: Come on, come on…

To paraphrase the old saying, sometimes you get to blast the mailbox, and sometimes the mailbox is you.

CLARK: GREG!

Clark yanks him out of the way, just as it explodes.

WHAMMMMM!

To This day I have no idea what Clark was thinking, getting between Greg and the blast. But I have to admit, it was a very…Clark-y thing to do.

Lex, Lana, and Chloe run towards the two of them, who are sprawled out on the ground.

CHLOE: Oh god…CLARK!

*****

Cut to later, as the ambulance arrives to take Greg away.

Lex goes up to Clark, who is sitting on a rock hanging his head.

LEX: Are you sure you’re all right, Clark? That was one hell of a hit. Hard to believe you didn’t even get a scratch.

CLARK: Guess I…lucked out.

He watches the ambulance drive away.

CLARK: I only wish I’d been a second sooner.

*****

Cut to the Kent farm, as Chloe’s car pulls up in the driveway.

Between the police and medical personnel, it took a while to sort everything out.

Clark gets out of the car and walks to the front door.

CHLOE: Home sweet Kent home. Sure you don’t want me to stick around? Help explain the dents in your jacket to your parents?

CLARK: No, but thanks, Chloe. I think I’ll just try to get some sleep.

Which I knew was a lie even as he said it. He was thinking about Greg. Clark took everything to heart…if still waters run deep, Clark Kent was the Mariana’s Trench.

*****

Cut to inside. Clark is sitting at the table with Jonathan and Martha, explaining what had happened.

MARTHA: Clark, are you sure you’re not hurt?

CLARK: Yeah, mom, I’m fine…now. But right after the explosion I felt sick…wear, the way I get around the meteor rocks.

Jonathan sighs

JONATHAN: Great. And Lex Luthor was there to see it.

Clark turns to his father.

CLARK: Dad, this wasn’t Lex’s fault.

JONATHAN: It’s never Lex’s fault, Clark. But somehow there’s always trouble when he’s around.

Clark gets up and heads for the door.

CLARK: Greg was responsible for the accident, not Lex. And all I tried to do was help.

Jonathan tries to stop him.

JONATHAN: Clark…I…

MARTHA: Let him go, Jonathan.

*****

Cut to inside the barn. Clark enters, and slowly approaches the silver spaceship inside.

I just wish I could figure Clark out. For all his farm-boy charm, I always feel like he’s hiding something. But that’s crazy. Smallville may be riddled with freaks and geeks, but Clark?

He’s as normal as they get.

Jonathan enters the barn and walks up behind Clark.

JONATHAN: Clark, I know Lex is a friend, but I can’t help worrying. If he ever discovered your secret…

CLARK: I know, dad, and I’m careful, believe me. But Lex knows what it’s like to be different. Maybe that’s why I can see past the rest of his world.

*****

Cut to the hospital. Stan Fox is speaking to one of the nurses.

STAN: How’s my son, doctor?

NURSE: A couple of pieces of debris are still lodged in his cheek. When you come back, we’ll try to clean that out.

The nurse leaves, and Stan walks over to Greg’s hospital bed.

GREG: Dad, I’m sorry. When…I saw Lex Luthor there, I just lost it. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.

STAN: Yeah, well it did…and now I’m totally screwed.

Suddenly, he slaps Greg across the face.

GREG: AHH!

STAN: My only hope of getting my job back was by crawling on my knees to that punk.

Greg stares at his father, a hurt expression in his face.

STAN: What are you going to do now? Cry? Get your clothes. We’re leaving.

*****

Cut to Clark’s loft. He’s standing by his periscope, looking up at the stars.

Having known Clark since the eighth grade gives me a certain…perspective on the way he thinks. So I knew the Greg thing would bother him.

But I didn’t think Lex would give it a second thought.

Lex walks up the stairway and approaches him.

LEX: Clark? Sorry if I surprised you. Your parents said you were still up.

Clark turns around.

CLARK: Couldn’t sleep. What are you doing out so late?

LEX: Only in Smallville would 10:30 be considered late. I feel like I’m partly responsible for what happened at the excavation.

CLARK: You were just the catalyst. Lana filled me in on the Greg Fox story. She actually went out with him a few times, pre-High School.

Lex walks past him and looks through the telescope. Clark begins to look worried.

CLARK: His mother dead, a father who doesn’t give a damn…

LEX: Relax, I’m not pressing charges, Clark. In fact, in some ways I empathize. But he’ll have to find a way to transcend his limitations, or they will devour him.

He heads towards the door.

CLARK: Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.

Lex looks back at him and smirks.

LEX: Mother dead, father who doesn’t give a damn…it’s definitely ‘been there, done that’ territory. Now get some sleep… I wouldn’t want to put a crimp in the world of agriculture by keeping you up past 11:00.

He leaves.

*****

Cut to the Fox’s. Greg is asleep.

Suddenly, the debris lodged in his cheek begins to glow bright green.

Looking back, I’ve pieced together what everyone from the blast was doing that night, including Greg Fox. Hindsight being a wonderful thing, I should have been more concerned. Especially since I’ve been developing this…theory…regarding the meteor rocks.

Greg climbs out of bed, holding his forehead.

GREG: Oh god…what’s wrong with me…?

Like…maybe they’re not rocks at all…but some weird, unearthly pathogen. A genetic marauder that literally reshapes cells and, to strike an almost biblical note, literally enhances the infected person’s sin.

He wanders into the bathroom.

GREG: My head…it’s on fire…

He stares at his reflection in the mirror.

He becomes shocked. His eye looks almost reptilian.

GREG: Oh god…what’s happening to me?

*****

Cut to the living room. Stan is asleep on the couch, the television still on.

ANNOUNCER: …weather tomorrow looks like more of the same, with clouds drifting in from the east…

Some of what I know about that night comes from the police report. Some will always be…my personal hypothesis. The police tend to get nervous jumping to my brand of conclusion.

GREG: (from bathroom) Dad?

His voice sounds raspy, and it causes Stan to wake up.

STAN: Huh? What are you doing up?

GREG: I…couldn’t sleep. Then I got hungry. So I thought…I’d come down…

Stan gets up and walks over to him. Greg’s face is hidden in shadows.

STAN: What’s wrong with you?

Stan looks at him.

STAN: Oh my god.

Greg’s skin has now become green and scaly. His teeth are razor sharp.

GREG: What are you going to do now? Cry?

STAN: AGHHHHH!!!

In an instant, the wall is splattered with blood.

*****

Cut to the next day, at the Talon.

Unfortunately, Mr. Fox’s bad night didn’t become public for another couple days. Things returned to what passes for normal in Smallville. Which includes Clark’s best friend Pete Ross busting on us.

Clark and Chloe walk up to the bar, where Pete is waiting for them.

CLARK: Hey Pete, did you see Greg at school today?

PETE: Come on, Clark. Even Chloe would use a hospital stay as an excuse to miss a day of school.

CHLOE: Unless of course I happened to be on deadline…

PETE: Which, of course, is always.

Lana walks up to them, order pad in hand.

And Lana hard at work at the Talon, the old movie theater that she remodeled into one of the few coffee houses sans a star or the bucks. All in memory of her parents, who first met at the theater…and later died in the meteor shower.

PETE: Hi Lana…I’ll take a triple cappuccino…I could use the boost.

CLARK: You get ‘boosted’ much higher they’re going to be scraping you off the ceiling. Seems like business is booming, Lana.

LANA: I always thought the renovation would work, but it’s nice to have a little validation. I just want to be…right, you know?

She heads towards the storage room.

LANA: In fact, if I don’t bring out more cups, people will be taking their double-lattes home in their pockets.

PETE: She says that as if it were a bad thing. But never let it be said that Pete Ross stood in the way of entrepreneurial excellence.

*****

Cut to inside the storeroom. Lana is searching the shelves.

LANA: Cups, cups, cups…so where did Nell put them…

She looks towards the ground and sees food scattered across the tiles. Open cans and bags are sprawled around her, their contents pouring out.

LANA: What? Is…someone back here?

She hears noise coming from behind her. Quickly, she spins around.

LANA: Who’s there? Come out…I can hear you.

GREG: (from the shadows) I just…wanted to talk…

LANA: Greg? Is that you?

GREG: …but then I got…HUNGRY!

Suddenly, the storage shelf behind her falls over, startling her.

LANA: NO!!!

*****

Cut to back inside the Talon.

Clark’s ears pick up a noise, and he turns towards the store room.

PETE: Did you hear something?

CLARK: Yeah…in the store room.

*****

…and back inside the storeroom…

Lana, in a blind panic, tries to open the door to the cooler. It won’t budge.

LANA: Stay away from me! Oh god…

She looks at her pursuer in horror.

*****

…and outside…

PETE: Clark, your head-turning, concern-for-Lana thing is making my neck ache. She’s in the back room, not bungee-jumping the Eiffel Tower.

CLARK: I can’t help it. I think something’s wrong.

Clark adjusts his eyes, turning on his X-Ray vision. He peers through the wall into the store room, and sees the skeletons of two people. One was human, obviously Lana. The other was creeping towards her on all fours…and looked almost reptilian.

CLARK: Pete, call 911!

PETE: The police? Clark, there are premonitions, and then there’s paranoid…

Clark heads towards the storeroom.

CLARK: Pete, please just do it!

PETE: All right, all right…

He opens the door and steps inside. It’s still dark.

CLARK: Lana!

GREG: (in shadows) She’s…hiding, Clark. I think she’s afraid of me…

Then, Clark turns around and sees him. Greg’s skin has now completely transformed into scales. His eyes are bright, glowing red and his mouth is filled with razor-sharp teeth. Both his hands and feet have become claws.

GREG: …she should be…you ALL should be!

CLARK: GREG?!

Greg leaps at Clark, craws outstretched.

CLARK: Greg, no!

Clark meets him by ramming Greg’s body with his shoulder. The impact causes the reptilian creature to crash through the wall, out into the streets.

A moment later, Chloe and Pete come racing into the storeroom.

PETE: Clark, are you ok?

CHLOE: And where’s…

Clark looks towards the door to the freezer. It’s covered in claw marks.

CLARK: Lana!

They open it, and Lana comes tumbling out. She’s holding herself, shivering.

LANA: It…it’s okay. I’m all right.

Chloe points towards the hole that Greg went through.

CHLOE: But your wall is toast.

PETE: Either someone got overexcited with their garden weasel, or…

Clark looks back towards the wall.

CLARK: Chloe, it was Greg Fox.

Pete notices a piece of bone on the ground. He picks it up.

LANA: I don’t understand, Clark. Why would Greg want to attack me?

CLARK: I don’t know, Lana.

PETE: I’m not sure even Greg knows…especially is this came out of him.

Pete hands the bone to Chloe. It’s a razor-sharp claw, just like the ones Greg had.

Chloe’s eyes go wide in surprise as she takes it.

CHLOE: If my memory of our Jurassic tour is accurate, that looks like a piece of velociraptor Mongolians. Which is, of course, totally insane.

CLARK: Insane or not, Greg’s still out there. And he’s dangerous.

*****

Cut to the LuthorCorp plant.

Now, very little of what I’m about to say can be confirmed by actual scientific sources, but if someone has a better explanation, I’m open.

Because I’m thinking Greg’s nervous system was somehow overtaken by what hit him at the U. of K. dig.

Velociraptors were believed to have a ‘social intelligence’ that may have accounted for Greg’s ill-conceived shout-out to Lana.

In the main office, Lex hits his intercom.

WORKER: (on intercom) Mr. Luthor, there’s been a break-in at the main gate.

LEX: Someone’s trying to get into a fertilizer plant? That’s novel. I suggest you find them.

They were also ferocious, capable of complex hunting strategies. Couple that with Greg’s irrational hatred of Lex, and we suddenly understand his second stop.

*****

Cut back to the Talon. Chloe is on the phone, while the others continue to talk.

LANA: I just wish I could have said something to Greg. Maybe he would have listened.

CLARK: Before or after he clawed the door? The Greg I saw didn’t look like he was in the mood for a chat.

Chloe hangs up the phone and turns to Clark.

CHLOE: Clark. That was my dad, over at LuthorCorp. He…he wanted to make sure I was all right. Someone broke into the main plant…killed two guards.

CLARK: Greg…he’s after Lex. Wait here. I’m going for help.

Clark leaves.

*****

Cut to the plant. One of the security guards his searching through it, talking on his intercom.

GUARD: Yeah, I thought I heard something in processing. I could use some…backup…

Out from the shadows, Greg stomps on his. He uses one single claw from his foot to slice the guard’s shoulder wide open.

He falls to the ground, bleeding.

GREG: Where’s Luthor?

GUARD: In his office…oh god…

Greg approaches him, mouth wide open.

GUARD: NO!

*****

Cut to Lex’s office. Lex is arguing with another guard.

LEX: You’re telling me my people are being attacked? I’ve got to get out there.

GUARD: No way, Mr. Luthor. Whoever’s inside the plant is looking for you…

Before he can say another word, Greg breaks the door down, pinning the guard under it. He then pushes Lex against the wall.

LEX: What…what do you want from me?

GREG: I want this…to stop. It’s all…your fault…

Lex’s eyes to wide once he realizes whom it is.

LEX: Greg? I don’t know what’s happened to you, but maybe I can help.

Greg hits him, knocking him unconscious.

GREG: I don’t want to talk…anymore!

Suddenly, a gust of wind blows into the room.

CLARK: (from behind) Greg! It’s over.

Greg turns around and faces Clark.

GREG: It’s…just beginning. And you…can’t…STOP IT!!!

He leaps and Clark again, but this time Clark’s ready for him. He punches him in mid-air, knocking him through the office wall.

Clark follows after him, picking him off the ground.

CLARK: Gas is leaking all over the place. We’ve got to get out of here. One spark and the room will go up like a bomb.

GREG: You’re too…strong. How did you do that.

Clark looks at him.

CLARK: I’m…different. Just like you. I know what it’s like to change and not know why.

GREG: But you don’t know…what it’s like to be me. I can’t go back now…I don’t want to!

Before Clark can stop him, Greg rakes a claw against the steel pipes. It creates a spark.

KA-BOOOOM

The room explodes, completely incinerating Greg’s body, while Clark stands there completely with only his shirt being harmed.

*****

Cut to later, outside the plant. Firefighters are arriving, trying to put out the flames.

The flames were so intense they couldn’t even recover Greg’s bones.

Chloe walks up to Clark.

CHLOE: Clark! When you said you were going for help, I figured that meant a phone.

CLARK: I thought if I…talked to Greg… But it didn’t matter.

No remains meant no proof that Greg had…evolved. For some reason, the thought of that was sad. And it wasn’t just because I couldn’t prove my meteor theory…

Lex goes up to the two of them, using a rag to wipe the blood off his forehead.

LEX: Clark, I understand you were in the plant when it went up. Not that I’m sorry, but how did you manage to get out?

CLARK: I…I made the hatch just before the fire.

Even the dinosaurs left us something to remember them by. They were eventually destroyed by their environment. In an odd way, so was Greg.

Just then, the Kent’s truck arrives on the scene. Jonathan and Martha exit, and run towards Clark.

JONATHAN: Clark!

Clark hugs his parents.

Chloe picks up her cell phone and dials a number.

CHLOE: (into phone) Yeah, Pete…could you tell Principal Reynolds the next edition might be a little late? I’ve got some writing to do tonight.

So much weird…so little time.

Welcome to Smallville.

The End