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Calling; Jonathon re-awakens to a dark new world.
Topic Started: Tue Jun 20, 2006 5:43 pm (302 Views)
Qualapec the She-Wolf
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Sandra McVallen hugged her thick fur coat closer to her body. Scanning the cemetary for cops or anyone who might want to take their plunder. It was a lie of course, told by her father and brother to keep her from witnessing what they were doing. Most cops were trying to contain the growing riots in the streets, the occasional military convoy passed with little intrest; getting to Metropolis was their primary objective. The riots in Smallville were by their very definition small in comparison. Anything that ran off computers or electionics had failed, causing massive blackouts and most importantly: fear. The air was so thick with it you could smell it. Simple terror.

Daring a glance behind her she felt sick as a shovel popped up out of the grave bringing more dirt with it. She took note of the headstone "Jonathon Kent: Loving father, husdband, friend". Sandra had met him before, even bought some things at the Farmer's Market. The Kents had always been nice to her, and she wanted to throw up at the thought they were taking from his eternal grave. But as her father said 'We need it more than he does.'

They did too. The world was ending...at least that's what the few radio broadcasts that could get through were saying. She knew they would need things like the cuffs, jacket, and shoes. Such things would go for a high price if people ever got to a semi-civilized state again. Jonathon Kent did not need them. "For god's sakes boy," Her father's gruff Irish accent drifted from below, "Leave his pants...man deserves at least that decency. 'Sides, we got more graves to hit whilst the time is ripe."

Her father got out first and her brother handed up the dead man's shirt, coat, tie, shoes. He was about to hop out himself when her father waved at the casket, "Close the lid Michael, and lock it tight. For if this truly is the appocolypse we'll want no dead coming in vengeance."

Sandra frowned, her father was superstitious. But with all the death flying around without burial, what angel would bother to come all the way out here to resurrect anybody?

~She-Wolf
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raethehazzard
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wow you love john schnieder too so do i looooooooooooove him he's great anyways i love the story please keep me posted you are really good and a wonderful writter.thanks and boy he sure is hot wow hew well keep smallville fan fic posted on jonathan coming back.
thanks and please check out my stories too.
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Qualapec the She-Wolf
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A steady beat in the emptyness. Resurculating blood back to the body that had not known it for over a month. Not the blood he'd known but a vibrant new blood coursed through him. Damaged tissue in his heart muscle that had caused his death slowly began to heal, the clot all but gone. As it spread it slowly but surely healed everything, pushed out the poision the mortition had used to embalm him. Most importantly it brought life back to him. Jonathon Kent would soon live again.

To Jor-El the body was easy to revitalize, sure he'd needed a vessel to work through, but anything could be a vessel. It was extremely difficult to override something's free will to use them. Difficult, but far from impossible. A large black dog had stumbled into the caves. The dog's free will was shattered in a little less than two days, but it had been extremely tiring on Jor-El's power. He hoped this would be worth the trouble

He should have known his son, softened by mortal heart would not kill his friend. Instead all he did was attempt to kill the mortal form of Zod. All Kal-El did was set Zod free. If he'd just done like he was supposed to then Jor-El wouldn't have had to do this.

A life for a life was the rule when turning back time. Jonathon Kent's life had been taken in exchange for Lana Lang's. Clark had well known the repercussions of his request, but ignored them. Under any other circomstance, Jor-El would not do this. But in truth, Jonathon was his only chance. The human had proven time and time again that he would do anything for his "son". Jor-El truly believed Jonathon was the only one that could save them now.

This was Earth's darkest hour. His own planet did not have the warriors with the strength, courage, or love to survive that hour.

~She-Wolf
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raethehazzard
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wow oh wow what great plot the more you write the better it gets.I so cant wait to see what else you have in store for the handsome jonathan kent.Yee Pee :eek:
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Qualapec the She-Wolf
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He was walking alone in a dark field. He saw Martha and Clark in front of him, slowly, Marha turned and walked away. Dark shadows suddenly engulfed her, and blocked her from her sight, "Martha?" He staggered foreward, "Clark?"

Clark said nothing, only followed Martha into the shadows.

"Clark!" Jonathon shouted suddenly as his eyes opened. He blinked a couple of times, but saw nothing but darkness. It wasn't like he was at home in his bed. It was too dark for that. Fumbling around him all he felt was something hard, lined with silk.

But that couldn't be...the only thing he could think of would be...

A hard knot came to his throat. God. Someone was going to bury him alive! He had to get out of there. Pressing his hands up against the lid he pushed hard with his hands in hopes somebody had left it unlocked. No such luck. He didn't even know why somebody was trying to bury him...the last thing he remembered was getting ready for the Senatorial election...nothing after that. Jonathon only spared a heartbeat to consider if he won or not. He had to find some way of getting out of this thing...

Every instinct screamed at him to panic, to breathe harder. But he struggled to maintain control. If he was already buried he would only be wasteing air. But if he stayed in there he'd die no matter what, his only chance was to try and dig his way out...

Fumbling around the interior of the coffin he searched for where the lineing was attached to the wood. Digging in with his nails he searched for the place it was weakest; he got lucky. All Jonathon found was a single thread on his right side. He couldn't contain the grin as he began to pull it out. Naturally it fell apart after only unraveling one stitch. Now it was weakened, and the next thread he found lasted three before falling apart. He kept doing this until finally he'd unraveled enough to slide his hand between the lining and the wooden part.

With a rip the lineing came off. Then with his left hand he grabbed it and ripped it wider. This was soothing in it's own way, he couldn't wait to get out of there.

He'd never punched through solid wood before. First time for everything. If only he could remember what was going on...

~She-Wolf
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SamwiseAtHeart
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Oh this is good. You've brought Jonathan back to life :hyper: I can't wait for what's next
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