-Caveat Lector- This is "Black Fog", my first mind-control story, published in 1974, pre-dating CONURELLA by over 20 years, and the MK-ULTRA hearings by 3 years. CONJURELLA is now posted at a number of sites, including...
http://www.darkelfdesigns.homestead.com/conjurella.html How about drumming up some fan support for Hal Thunder? I posted this at the message boards on both goldcomics.com and mightycrusaders.net, with a poll asking if Hal Thunder should be revived. Hope you can vote, and encourage others to do so... http://www.goldcomics.com/ubbthreads/showflat.php/Cat/0/Number/22953/an/0/page/0#Post22953 http://www.mightycrusaders.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=727 "Black Fog" (text story w/spot illos by Gray Morrow) by T. Casey Brennan from Red Circle Sorcery #6, April 1974. Copyright 1974 by Red Circle Productions, Inc. Reprinted in Archie's Super Hero Special #1, January 1979, wherein my character, Hal Thunder appeared in the same comic with such legendary characters as the Black Hood, The Fly, The Jaguar, The Shield, and Sabrina the Teen-Age Witch! I wrote this story after extensive research into the 1940s MLJ writing style -- I would welcome fan attention to Hal Thunder, who appeared,so far, in only this one story! Fan fiction with my character meeting the MLJ greats who inspired his creation would be welcome. ------------------------------------------------------ Slowly the black fog closed in, destroying his awareness, and then... There was no doubt in Hal Thunder's mind that the scream had come from Linda's room. He quickened his pace, leaping up the stairs three and four steps at a time. His heart beat faster now, pumping adrenalin into his powerful body. But he felt no fear. With one violent motion, he kicked open the door to Linda's apartment. Linda was on the floor gasping, her clothes torn. But still alive, thank God, he thought. "The window! Don't let him escape!" Her voice was hysterical. Swiftly, but with great caution, Thunder stepped out the still-open window and onto the narrow ledge. Then he saw the other man some three feet away. He realized that for the first time he was face to face with the masked arch-criminal whom he had sought so long - the Strangler. In an instant, Thunder evaluated the situation. If they locked horns on this window ledge fifteen stories above the city, surely one of them would die, if not both. On the other hand, if he allowed the Strangler to escape, his next attempt on Linda's life might be successful. He could not take that chance. He moved toward the masked man. The Strangler fought desperately, seeming to prefer death on the sidewalk below to capture by Hal Thunder. Summoning all his resources, Thunder fought to keep his balance under the force of his own blows, and the flailing fists of the masked man. Like a madman, the Strangler moved in, grabbing Thunder by the throat. The movement threw them both off balance. Thunder's efforts to tear the powerful fingers loose were in vain, and they toppled together off the ledge. In a split-second, the Strangler realized what he had done, and released his grip in mid-air. Free of the strangle-hold, Thunder's lightning reflexes took effect, and he grabbed the ledge with both hands as he fell. The shock might have broken the arms of a lesser man, but Thunder's body had long been conditioned for such things. He dangled above the city fifteen stories, and then... Then a strange thought hit him. It hit him seemingly for the first time: Who am I, really? What am I doing here? What is happening? It had suddenly become clear that the incident that had just taken place had a dream-like quality. And he had felt no fear. There seemed to be a mist forming before him. Then the black fog closed in. The black fog was lifting now. Just before it did, he realized painfully that he would have no recollection of it. Linda was especially beautiful today. Thunder observed, eating his lunch. Perhaps it was because he was so grateful that she was still alive. He felt her admiring eyes on him as he spoke. "It looks as though this case hasn't been solved yet," he said. Linda stared, wide-eyed. "But the Strangler is dead now, isn't he?" she asked. There was fear in her voice, Thunder noted. Understandably so, he thought, after her ordeal yesterday. Thunder continued, "One Strangler is dead, yes! But these crimes now appear to be the work of an organized gang!" He lit his pipe, arranged his thoughts carefully, then spoke again. "You see, when this crime wave first hit the city, it appeared to be the work of a lone madman - a Jack-the-Ripper type. The victims were all women, and all brutally murdered. "But there were too many flaws to the 'madman' angle. For one thing, all the victims were well-to-do. They were always stripped of their valuables. These crimes were very carefully planned out." "You mean the killer tried to make the murders look like crimes of passion, when robbery was the real motive?!" Linda said. "Exactly," Thunder replied, "that way, the police would be looking for a psychopath instead of a cunning band of ruthless killers!" Linda's face grew sad. "So now you won't get the reward money you were counting on," she said. "Not YET!" Thunder corrected, "But I'm going to crack this case!" He swore inwardly that he would get back at the Stranglers for their attack on Linda. He knew it had been meant as a warning to him. And when he did catch them, it would mean a five thousand dollar reward. With that much money, he could make his private detective agency really amount to something, and more importantly, build a future for himself and Linda. He watched Linda intently, then he noticed the mist forming all around. It became a deep black fog, and at first he didn't understand - then, he remembered. The black fog cleared away rapidly, clearing with it all memory of what had happened. He was in Linda's apartment now, holding her in his arms. "Linda," he breathed, "I don't know what I would have done if something had happened to you!" Her voice was a soft whisper. "How do you think I felt with you out on that ledge with that monster?! Oh, darling!" Her voice continued, but he was no longer listening. He suddenly remembered that something else had happened on that ledge: What? Then he remembered - the questions. The feeling that something strange was happening. He began to panic. Perhaps he could turn to Linda, he thought. He started to speak, but before he did, he had the strange feeling that he was doing something very, very wrong. "Linda," he said, in an almost begging tone, "There's something strange happening here! I don't understand this! There's something wrong..." He turned his face directly towards hers, expecting comfort. He was wrong. The warmth was gone from her face. The admiration in her eyes for Hal Thunder was gone. She wore a look of shocked anger. "What's the matter with you?" she screamed, "Are you actually trying to ruin it for yourself?!" The black fog closed in immediately. Hal Thunder spoke with authority, as he smoothed the check between his palms. Close beside him, her hand on his arm, was Linda. And in front of him, seated at the desk, was his old friend, Commissioner Jensen. "...so you see," Thunder said, "It was a relatively simple job to outwit the killers!" "You've done a fine job, Hal," Linda purred, her eyes aglow, "And to think I almost lost you on that ledge!" THE LEDGE! The words stuck in his mind. Then he remembered. The questions. The black fog. First he glanced around the room, wild-eyed. When he spoke, his voice was hysterical. "What's going on here? My name isn't Hal! What are we doing?!" Commissioner Jensen was standing now, shouting. Linda was crying. The black fog closed in now, and as it did, he felt someone removing something from behind his right ear. Someone said, "He's ruined another scene!" When he woke again, it was with the full realization of what had been happening. The director had his hand on his shoulder. Johnny Doran, formerly Hal Thunder, hung his head. The director spoke. "I'm sorry, Johnny," he said, "We can't use you in the show! You just ruined two scenes. I don't think you can ever cope with twenty-first century acting methods!" Johnny swallowed. He had expected this. Curse the psycho-acting devices, he thought. He had been a star when acting had been an art, not a superscientific trick. But now, in modern Hollywood, nearly anyone could become an actor. That is, anyone without great sensitivity, those who might have genuine acting talent, in other words. It was merely a process of erasing all true memories, so that an actor could truly live his part. The mind usually recorded this erasing with a visual hallucination of black fog. And Johnny Doran's mind could not tolerate that black fog. He felt the director's eyes on him. So harshly, that he wanted to protest that these innovations had not advanced art - they had killed it. But he knew it would be of no use. He nodded, and turned to walk away. But before he reached the door, the girl who played Linda, Janice, caught up with him and touched his arm. He turned around. "Art is still alive somewhere, Johnny," she said, "Go find it! And when you do - " She paused. "When you do, come back for me! Because I want to find it too!" Then she was gone, hurrying back to the set. The End For T. Casey Brennan adventures in the Wold Newton Universe, check this URL... http://www.angelfire.com/zine2/warrenverse/MK_Ultra.html http://angelfire.com/zine2/warrenverse/MK_Ultra.html http://sideshow.libsyn.com http://store.vampirella.com/vamcrimchron1.html http://store.vampirella.com/noname1.html http://www.darkelfdesigns.homestead.com/mkultra01.html http://tcaseybrennan.knows.it http://tcasey.inri.net http://www.angelfire.com/me/carcano http://www.anomalog.com/conjurella.html http://www.answers.com/t+casey+brennan&r=67 http://cybertempli.mysteria.cz/?pgid=115 http://onyx.gothicunderworld.com/darkendsoul/Conjurella.html http://www.marktv.net/crazy-mark.html __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Tired of spam? Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around http://mail.yahoo.com www.ctrl.org DECLARATION & DISCLAIMER ========== CTRL is a discussion & informational exchange list. Proselytizing propagandic screeds are unwelcomed. 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