Post by Wicked on Jul 26, 2006 23:24:33 GMT -5
Lex Luthor slammed his fists against the desk top. In a fit of rage he pulled his arms across the work surface, sending everything crashing to the floor. Pencils, pens, papers, lamp, laptop: everything clattered against the hardwood, echoing off the bookshelves. He stood and grabbed the edge of the desk, throwing it with as much force as he could muster across the room. It covered a surprising distance. Jail had hardened him, made him strong: but he was nothing compared to Superman. And that to him, was unacceptable.
He prowled around the room, his muscles moving with the fluid grace of a tiger. He felt caged, like a wild animal forced to hide his power, forced to live in a zoo. Something for people to look at and revere, but with no way of fighting for its dominance. He kicked his chair away and watched it skid into the wall.
Superman never felt this way. He was limitless. He was all humans could never be. He was what Lex feared. The end of vision, the end of striving. Superman was everything, something Lex Luthor could never reach. He had to change that, had to bring them to level ground. If he had to play dirty to exact his revenge he would not shirk away. He’d kill with his bare hands -man woman or child- if it came to it.
He stalked around the small office, claustrophobic. The bookshelves loomed over him, the framed newspapers headlining his defeats at the hands of Superman mocked him with their black and white laughter. He grinned at one of the articles with an easy calm, his sly features highlighted by an air of confidence. He knew what he was going to do. From here on he’d be playing at the top of his game. Nothing would stop him.
Strong features set in a classically lined face, smooth bald head and perfectly tailored suit; Lex looked the part of a well to do business man. His reputation was everything but. Jail time. A second conviction for trying to develop new land on top of the United States. He used his genius and criminal prowess to escape jail for that one, but it was a close call. But now he was changing his image. He took out his cell phone and dialed a number.
“Hello, Daily Planet? I’d like to speak with Miss Lois Lane, please.”
He prowled around the room, his muscles moving with the fluid grace of a tiger. He felt caged, like a wild animal forced to hide his power, forced to live in a zoo. Something for people to look at and revere, but with no way of fighting for its dominance. He kicked his chair away and watched it skid into the wall.
Superman never felt this way. He was limitless. He was all humans could never be. He was what Lex feared. The end of vision, the end of striving. Superman was everything, something Lex Luthor could never reach. He had to change that, had to bring them to level ground. If he had to play dirty to exact his revenge he would not shirk away. He’d kill with his bare hands -man woman or child- if it came to it.
He stalked around the small office, claustrophobic. The bookshelves loomed over him, the framed newspapers headlining his defeats at the hands of Superman mocked him with their black and white laughter. He grinned at one of the articles with an easy calm, his sly features highlighted by an air of confidence. He knew what he was going to do. From here on he’d be playing at the top of his game. Nothing would stop him.
Strong features set in a classically lined face, smooth bald head and perfectly tailored suit; Lex looked the part of a well to do business man. His reputation was everything but. Jail time. A second conviction for trying to develop new land on top of the United States. He used his genius and criminal prowess to escape jail for that one, but it was a close call. But now he was changing his image. He took out his cell phone and dialed a number.
“Hello, Daily Planet? I’d like to speak with Miss Lois Lane, please.”
