Showing posts with label 1970s. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1970s. Show all posts

Monday, August 11, 2025

Monday Mecha Madness WORLDS UNKNOWN "Farewell to the Master" Conclusion

Cover art by Rich Buckler & Wayne Howard (with additional art by John Romita Sr)

Reporter Cliff Sutherland and photographer Ann O'Hara may be on to the scoop of the century.

An alien robot, which went inert after Klaatu (the alien humanoid it accompanied) was shot and killed (without provocation) when he tried to initiate contact with people of Earth isn't as unmoving as the US government believes!
The duo conceal themselves nearby, hoping to catch the automaton in motion...which they do!
They witness the robot enter the alien vessel...which sealed up and apparently deactivated after Klaatu was killed.
And now things get really weird...
Cue the Twilight Zone theme...
The original story by Harry Bates appeared in Street and Smith's Astounding Science Fiction V26N2 (1940) with the following illustrations by Frank Kramer...all of which feature Gnut!
"Farewell to the Master" has been reprinted numerous times, usually in anthologies about Astounding Science-Fiction magazine, or compilations of stories which were adapted into films or TV shows.
But the graphic adaptation from Marvel's Worlds Unknown #3 (1973) has never been reprinted, and no other comic book/comic strip version has ever been done!
However, there was another prose adaptation of the short story...

This book, written by Arthur Tofte, published by Scholastic Books in 1976, combined "Farewell to the Master" with the screenplay for the 1951 movie into a new novel which presents Klaatu and a rather verbose Gnut (not "Gort") as a pair of equal partners, representing their respective civilizations within a galactic organization calling themselves "The Watchers"!
Finally, Lux Radio Theatre produced a one-hour radio adaptation in 1954, narrated by Paul Frees and starring Michael Rennie as Klaatu!
Regrettably, it doesn't use Bernard Herrmann's magnificent soundtrack but it's still worth listening to.
You can link to it HERE!
KLATTU BARADA NIKTO!
Which translates to:

Shogun Warriors Return Next Monday!
Support Atomic Kommie Comics
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(Contains both the 1951 and 2008 versions plus kool extras)
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Sunday, August 10, 2025

It's a HOT Time at the RetroBlog Summer Blogathons!

A New Blogathon Begins Tomorrow...

...as Nazi-Punching gets a week-long workout with Doc Savage taking on his Nazi counterpart raised by scientists using the same techniques Dr Clark Savage Sr used for Clark Jr...at the 1936 Olympics in a never-reprinted, extra-long, almost half-century-old tale!
Guest-Starring: a host of historical figures including Jesse Owens and Adolf (you know who)!
Meanwhile...

Jet Dream & Her Stunt-Girl Counterspies continue daily on both Heroines! and Crime & Punishment (With a Stopover at True Love Comics Tales)!
If You've Missed Their Already-Posted, Never-Reprinted, Silver-Age Adventures, Click HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE, HERE and HERE!
And Now...

We've Completed the Massive Re-Presentation of the Time-Lost, Never-Reprinted, First Prose Novel Starring the #FantasticFour , Doomsday, written by Marv Wolfman!
And for Those Silly Enough to Have Missed Any of It...
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 & 16 17 & 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 & 27
RetroBlogs: We're Working Hard While You're on Vacation!

Thursday, August 7, 2025

Reading Room FANTASTIC FOUR: DOOMSDAY Part 25


Twenty-Five

You Can Read the Previous Chapter HERE!
Victor Von Doom stood silent and pensive beside the massive thirty-five-ton Heelstone, his grim gaze riveted on the great trilithon seventy-five meters away. Night still blanketed the great plains of Salisbury, and the moon, low on the far horizon, made the awesome monoliths of Stonehenge a black silhouette painted on a dark gray canvas.

To the East, Doom could see the sun begin to rise; golden glimmers of light made hesitant intrusions into the blackness everywhere. It was now time. Before the sun was high, when it could still be seen stretching across the long, endless plains, Doom had to position himself before the double trilithon, the four massive stone pillars topped with three stone slabs.

Then, as the sun rose from behind the Heelstone, and light pierced the spaces between the trilithons, he would utter the words he had read so many years before in his mother’s diary. The spaces between the columns would then shimmer with an alien glow, and Doom would unleash the energy he had tapped from the dark recesses of the Negative Zone. Then, at long last, he would have what he had long prayed for. He would pierce the veil between life and death itself. He would enter the forbidden regions of the netherverse; he would cross into the shadow zone where those long dead still walked.

Through this region he would seek out the one he wanted. He would find Cynthia, his long-departed mother. He would speak to this woman he was so much like, yet had never truly known. And he would learn from her the darkest secrets that had always eluded his grasp.
Around him were the remains of Stonehenge, the last vestiges of a people who lived more than four thousand years before; not the Druids, as man had long suspected, but of three separate tribes, each changing, each adding to make Stonehenge the mystic monument it was.

Doom kneeled by the great trilithon and the three windows into the netherworld. From his cloak he removed the old book of spells he had found as a child in his father’s trunk. And though he had long ago memorized the words, he opened to the proper page and read the prayer written so many years before in the hand of his mother.

The stones were black against a golden light as he raised his hands toward the heavens. “Astoreth and Mogoleth, Shintath and Beelzebub, demons of darkness and light, shadows and substance, reality and fantasy, truth and lies, I, who am worthless, call upon your powers great and terrible. I humble myself before your greatness. I sacrifice myself before your wonderment. I am nothing and you are all.”

The chasms of light between the stones grew dark and scarlet. Doom raised his head and saw the sunlight filtering in everywhere but between these four great stones. The spell was working. Soon he would find his mother. Soon she would tell him the spells that would give him the power over every living being on Earth.

Doom stood between the center stones, his hands outstretched, touching the portal walls. He could see into the scarlet, see the dark shimmering shapes trudge slowly here and about, as if weighted down by anchors.

He could see the outlines of ten million figures, then ten million more. All who had ever died were here before him now. He could reach out and touch a Caesar, or a Napoleon, or an Einstein, should he choose to do so. But he wished to speak to only one soul. He wanted his mother.

His fingers glowed as the negative energy he had tapped poured from his armor. It would cut a path through the shadow region. He could use it to open the dimension as he had never been able to open it before. He could enter the land of the dead, walk beside the souls and find his mother’s essence. At last he could penetrate the lands beyond.

The scarlet haze seemed to part, and for the first time Doom could see the region beyond as clearly as if it were real and shared his substance. No longer was it a misty unknown. No longer was it impenetrable. Now it belonged to him.

Dr. Doom had mastered the land of the dead.

And then he stepped within.

Time flowed backward here. Those most recently deceased stepped in slow motion before him. He would have to penetrate the veil even deeper. He would have to go back those many years to the time when he was still an infant.

Negative energy crackled around him with every step forward he took. He passed bodies he had known, others that he recognized; most he could care less about. They were simply dead ones not to be bothered with.

His step was slow and precise; he had to stay on his path or he could never leave this land of the shadows.

Then, like something muffled by cotton, he heard a distant voice. It called his name. “Doom . . . Doom!” He looked about, but there was no one before him he recognized. The voice became louder, more penetrating.

He realized it wasn’t coming from within this veiled dimension. It came from outside, back in Stonehenge. Suddenly everything vanished and he was standing before the trilithon. Behind him, the sun to their backs, stood the Fantastic Four.

Reed ran toward him. “Don’t do it, Doom. You’ll unleash forces you can’t control.”

Doom’s eyes were wide in shock. “How did you find me? How did you know?”

“You absorbed radiation and energy from the Negative Zone. Long ago, when I first learned of the Zone’s existence, I created a detector for that energy. It was a simple matter to adjust it to follow you. With that power coursing through you, you were like a radar beacon.”

“Then you followed me here only to die. I shall not fail, Richards. Not now. I swear that.”
Doom shimmered with wild, crackling energy. “I’ve enough power to reopen the gateway, and still enough to keep you away from me while I do.”

“Stand back, everyone!” Reed shouted as he ducked behind a column.

Sue spread her energy field around her, and Johnny flamed on and flew high over the stone monoliths. Only Ben Grimm stood in place, his fists waving at Doom.

“Ya crummy little tin can, I’m fed up ta here with ya. Ya try ’n’ kill us, ya do everythin’ ya want ta destroy us. But ya didn’t succeed, Doomsie, ya didn’t win, an’ ya won’t win—’cause we’re the ever-lovin’ Fantastic Four. An’ mister, we got the power ta lay you low!”

Doom was frothing at the mouth, his voice raised to a fevered pitch. His eyes crackled with unbridled energy. “You insignificant little cretin, you fail to understand the power I now control. You cannot possibly comprehend the magnificence of my discovery. I possess powers undreamed of. I have seen the other side; I have crossed the vale into the land of the dead. And you actually have the tenacity to say you are going to stop me from completing that which I’ve only begun?

“Dolt! Ludicrous, moronic dolt—not even you possess that power. No one but Doom possesses the power.” His hands raised, his feet spread apart, the field of energy surrounding Doom began to spread wide and out.

It pushed through the other monoliths, and like the ripples in a pond continued to radiate outward from the center. Ben stepped toward the sparkling black cloud that swirled before him. He reached out to touch it. Instantly, he felt himself on fire. His hand grew numb; he froze as the cloud swept over him. His body was burning up. At any moment he would ignite and instantly crumble to ash.

“Ben! Get out of there!” Johnny swooped downward but saw Reed Richards wave him away.

“Don’t, Johnny—if you touch him you’ll be affected, as well. Sue, throw a skintight force field around me. It’s Ben’s only chance.”

Sue nodded and complied. A moment later Reed stretched toward Ben. He wrapped his elongated body around the orange-hided Thing from head to foot, then stretched toward a distant monolith. With all his strength he snapped his body forward, and Ben was whisked back, away from the field.

Reed shouted toward Johnny, who landed at his side. “Quickly, use your powers—siphon away the heat. If we can lower his body temperature before it causes any permanent damage, Ben has a chance of surviving.”

Johnny grabbed Ben’s arms and closed his eyes. “Ya gotta live, big buddy. Man, ya gotta live.”

Sue held onto Reed’s arm as they both watched the red glow that surrounded Ben begin to fade. Johnny was doing it. He was siphoning off the searing heat which was killing Ben.
As Ben collapsed to the ground, the others clustering about him, Dr. Doom turned once more to the trilithon. For a second time the sacred words were spoken, and again the scarlet haze filtered through the three portals.

He stepped inside, no longer content to gaze in wonderment. About him on all sides were the walking dead. He continued on through, passing the wretched and the worthless, pushing aside the useless and those who served not his purpose.

“Victor?” He heard the voice call him. Was it a trick? Was it that infernal Reed Richards again? He continued on and the voice grew louder. “Victor.” The voice was dark, ethereal, strange beyond recognition. Yet it came from within the land of the shadow. He pushed forward.

He stood before the man who smiled at him. “Victor, I knew one day you would come here, my son.”

“Father?” Doom stared at him, unsure what to say. “Father? I do not believe it. It can’t be you.”

“Why not?” the man answered calmly. “You came to the land of the dead. I am dead. You seek your mother, but I died more recently. It is only correct that you must pass me before you can reach your goal.”

“You know why I am here, Father?”

“You seek power, Victor. I know that. I have always known that, and I have always prayed you would not find it.”

“What? You want me to be a weak-kneed fool like the others? No, Father. You have changed. Or perhaps you forget how the Baron’s men killed my mother. Perhaps you forget that we fled from their tyranny, and you died because of them. But I have not forgotten that, Father. And I seek my absolute power to destroy all those who have both hunted and feared Von Doom.”

Werner Von Doom grew angry, his face contorted in the eerie glow. “No, Victor, it is you who have forgotten the truth. I always sought to help people. I would never raise a finger to cause any man harm. Your mother was the same, Victor. She used her powers for good, not evil. No, my son, we have not changed. You have. You have become evil, twisted. You are no longer my son.”

“You lie, old man!” Doom was shouting now, his face livid with hatred. He wanted to throttle the old one but found he could not. “All my life I sought vengeance on those who killed my parents. Now you dare to call me mad. Never! Never!”

Arrogantly, Doom pushed his father, but the older man would not move. “Do not stop me, Father. I want to see my mother. I want to hear the dark prayers from her lips.”

“She will not teach them to you, Victor. She, too, abhors what you have become. Accept the truth, Victor—return to your world and change your ways. There is time. There is always time while you still live.”

Doom raised his hands high; bolts of negative energy formed in a circle around them. “You are telling me that everything I have ever dreamed of is a lie, everything I have ever strived for is false. No! That cannot be. That must never be. No man, not even you, can tell me that!”

The negative force expanded. It enveloped Doom and spread to his father and cut through the scarlet haze that was everywhere. Doom’s voice, strong and powerful, became distant and muffled. “Everything cannot be a lie. I sought power for vengeance . . . now vengeance cannot be mine . . . no . . . no . . . I cannot accept that . . . I—”

“You are wrong, Victor; you sought your vengeance not for us, but for yourself. You wanted powers that should belong to no man. You make me ashamed that you were born of our flesh. Renounce your evil ways, Victor. Renounce them, or we shall renounce you.”

“Never, you weak-kneed old fool. If I was wrong about anything, it was my love for you. You were always a fool. A strong man would have fought back when the Baron killed his wife. But you, oh, you permitted him his fun. You said nothing as my mother died. Now, out of my way, Father, or, so help me, I’ll blast you where you stand.”

“Then do so, Victor. I will not move.” His father lowered his hands to his side and Doom raised his armored hand and unleashed a terrible destructive ray at the man he had worshipped for so many years.

The man crumpled to the ground, and Doom stepped past the spot where his father had stood a moment before. The contemptible fool. He was wrong about everything. But I still seek my mother. She will show me the way. She will tell me how Dr. Doom can rule this world.

The path before him was long and winding and it threatened to go on forever into the distance. But that mattered none to Dr. Doom. Nothing mattered to him now except the finding of his mother. She will help him. She will guide him to his ultimate triumph.
After all, she had named him Victor. How could victory elude him?

He continued along the path, disgusted at the peasants who walked somnambulistically beside him. What foul creatures these are, he felt. They were not fit to walk the same path his mother walked.

He saw her in the distance; her long white gown shimmered against the pale red mist. He called out to her. “Mother?” She turned, and he saw she was as beautiful as he had been told.
“Mother? Is that you?” Silently, she nodded.

“I am Cynthia Von Doom, Victor. You are my son, and the killer of my husband. Why have you invaded the serenity of my death? Why have you sought me out? Why do you not leave us alone? Have you not already disgraced the name Von Doom? Have you not made a mockery of all we had taught you? Leave me alone, Victor. Your father has already banished you. I do not wish to see you now, or ever. Go!”

“No! You cannot mean that. I, who have always called your name. I love you. I want to sit by your side and learn from you. You were a witch and I inherited your awesome power. Surely you cannot renounce my destiny—a destiny that you, yourself, created.”

Her eyes flared with fire as she spoke. “To be a witch is not to be evil. It is to possess power, and power can be used for good. You choose to use your power for evil, Victor. You made your decision yourself. Do not pretend that I gave you that legacy. Do not believe I wish you to be as you are.

“Look at yourself, Victor. Look at your face.”

Doom saw a silver mirror appear before him and his mask mystically opened. He saw the scarred battleground his face had become: a twisted, disgusting mockery of humanity. His hands flew to his face, he covered his ravaged features with his palms, but still the haunting visage appeared in the mirror. Still he could see his evil persona stare back at him in horror.

“You are as twisted and evil as your face, Victor. You have permitted yourself to die long before death had ever claimed you. Now, Victor, renounce your past. Now, Victor, change your ways. There may yet be time for salvation. Speak, my son. Tell the gods you wish to be a new man. Shout to all who can hear that Victor Von Doom is dead, and a phoenix shall rise from his ashes. Speak now, or forever face damnation.”

Doom’s bloodshot eyes were wide in horror as he stared at the woman he knew to be his mother. “You ask me things I cannot do. You should know that I am Victor Von Doom. I cannot surrender myself to such beliefs. No, mother, if you are truly her, and if this shadow land has not changed you, as it has my father, then you would honor me as I am. You would acknowledge that I have fought to be worthy of the name Von Doom.

“Our name was once spat upon by the Barons of Latveria. Now it is a name to be feared and respected. You cannot tell me I am evil, for I have read your diary. I know how you once thought. I spoke your dark spells as you once had. I am your son; you cannot deny me that.”

“Victor, I spoke those spells as a child. But long before I met your father, I renounced the ways of the black witches and dark sabbats. That diary was mine, kept to remind me of my awesome power and the evil it could cause. I relinquished that power. You embraced it. I am sorry, Victor, truly I am sorry. But there is no further use for us to talk.

“I cannot permit you to return to your land of the living and to wield your terrible power. I cannot allow you to wreck havoc on an unsuspecting mankind. You must remain here, where our forces will change you. You will see the truth, Victor. You will accept the truth as all men come to do.”

Doom stepped back, his hands outstretched, waving away the woman who approached him. He pushed through two walking corpses, and ran terrified along the narrow path. His mother followed behind him, walking slowly, yet never falling far behind.

Doom ran, his hopes, his dreams, all shattered. He damned his mother and father, and cursed this land of shadows, and knew he could stay here not a moment more. “I have mastered death!” he cried. “You will not master me!”

He turned as he ran. His mother was still behind him, arms beckoning him toward her. “Stay here, Victor. It is your only chance. If you return to your world, you will face horrors unknown to man. Remain here with us.”

He whirled and fired a terrifying blast at the beckoning figure. His mother smiled as the golden glow surrounded her. “I am already dead, Victor. I cannot die again.”

“No more than I could die, Victor.” Once more Doom spun, and he saw Werner Von Doom standing before him. “There was no way for me to hold you, my son. You had to see the truth. Your mother had to be the one to show it to you.”

“No! You lie! You all lie!” Doom slammed his hand into his father, but the man did not move. Sweat beaded down Doom’s face, stinging his still sore wounds.
“Allow your mother to hold you, Victor. You will learn.”

Doom struggled, but his father held him still. He saw his mother approach him. She lifted her hand and she smiled. He screamed as her warm hand descended on his iron-clad shoulder.

Beyond the wall of seething energy, the Fantastic Four could only stand and watch. Ben Grimm stirred and rose to his feet. Doom could be seen standing in the scarlet mist. Another figure stood behind him, a smaller, slender figure before him. They could hear Doom scream and struggle, and fight.

Ben tried to reach out, but Reed called him back. “Don’t—whatever is happening to Doom, we can’t affect its outcome. It’s not happening here. We can only observe it.”

“But what is it, Reed? I don’t understand?” Johnny shook his head in bewilderment.
“I don’t understand it either, Johnny. I don’t think any of us could hope to comprehend what’s happening to him now.”

Sue cried out. “Look—everything’s fading . . . it’s all disappearing. It’s as if it’s all over.
“And Doom’s being taken away—the mist’s covering him—he’s looking back at us, Reed. Look at him—look at his face. He’s calling to us. Reed! He wants our help. He wants us to grab him. Can’t we do anything, Reed?”

Reed shook his head. “No, Sue. This is beyond even our power. Doom unleashed forces that cannot be controlled. And now he’s paying the ultimate penalty.”

The scarlet mist covered Doom in a shroud of darkness. Suddenly the glow from the trilithon seemed to expand beyond the gateway. Crimson bolts shot out in all directions as the wind whipped through the Stonehenge monuments.

Reed cried out. “Grab onto a boulder—this is all coming to a head!”

Suddenly Stonehenge was caught in the throes of a hurricane. Johnny felt his body being torn from the stone he grabbed onto. Reed tied his legs about his massive monolith and stretched toward his young teammate. “Sue! We need you now—try to encircle us with a force bubble.”

The scarlet shroud seemed to blanket all of Stonehenge. Then, suddenly, there was nothing. The winds fell silent, and they saw the crimson color fade and sunlight stream through the trilithon. The dimension of shadows was gone, and it had taken Dr. Doom with it.

Reed fell to the ground weak, panting for breath. In the distance he could hear a tour bus turning into the parking lot across the highway. In a few minutes the first tourists of the day would come streaming over the Salisbury Plain, snapping photographs, gaping at the ages-old monument, wondering who had built it and what purpose it had served.

A few would see four tired, haggard figures stagger from the ruins and enter a private car which would soon take them to a distant airport. But none would ever know what had transpired here just moments before.

And another mystery of Stonehenge would be swallowed up by time.
To Be Concluded...Tomorrow at
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Tuesday, August 5, 2025

Reading Room FANTASTIC FOUR: DOOMSDAY Part 23

 
Twenty-Three

You Can Read the Previous Chapter HERE!
A green glow filled the massive wall-screen, leaving Dr. Doom speechless as he peered deeper and deeper into the strange, undescribable universe revealed before him. Alien shapes stretched into infinity, weird, crag-like formations jutted out in all directions, and then there was the vast emptiness, the long stretches of green melting into blue, fading into red and into black.

Crimson clouds floated freely through the void, wisping past multicolored dots of light: planets man had never before seen, worlds no living life forms had ever set foot upon.

This was the Negative Zone, the cosmic field of reverse polarity that Reed Richards had discovered months before and had only lately begun to explore. Doom was overwhelmed by the incredible sights he witnessed: the vast panorama of a totally alien dimension. This mind-numbing discovery had always eluded him; the piercing of another dimension had been his dream, and he had failed miserably at making that dream a reality.

But Reed Richards had pierced the cosmic plane; he alone had uncovered the secret of negative force. And though Doom cursed his foe, despised his own failure, still what he had always sought was now here within his grasp. The Negative Zone was his to harness.

He reached for the coupling units. He had to enter this Negative Zone. He had to witness firsthand its awesome power. And more, he had to siphon its negative energy, to draw it into his armor, which had been especially prepared for this very moment; the unbridled energy he needed to complete his vast cosmic scheme.

His years of planning, hoping, having his hopes dashed, re-scheming, and re-plotting were finally on the threshold of realization. Very soon the one truth that had always eluded him would be his.

The coupling unit to the Negative Zone door was melted over. Beneath his armored mask, Doom sneered. His hand grasped the adamantium steel door, electrical energy crackled from his gauntlet, and the coupling began to melt anew.

His heart beat faster; his perspiration increased. Doom felt elated, light-headed, giddy. Success was within his grasp. The steel dripped down the door like rain on a windowpane. He could hear himself breathing heavily in anticipation. Any moment now, any moment and he would fling open the door and an entirely new universe would be his.

“Hold it, Doom. You’ve gone far enough.”

Doom knew the voice and he cursed his foe even before he turned around.

Reed Richards stood grim-faced behind him. Behind Richards was the lumbering Thing, Susan Richards, the Invisible Girl, and Johnny Storm, the Human Torch.

“You bumbling, insignificant dolts!” Doom shouted, displaying an almost insane hatred of this foursome. “I cannot be stopped now, not while I stand here ready to realize all my dreams!”

Even as he spoke, his hands danced with electrical fire. Within moments the small lab room was filled with a fearsome static charge. But Richards only shook his head sadly. “It won’t help you, Doom. Our costumes are constructed from unstable molecules. Your tricks won’t stop us now.”

Doom’s iron face-mask seemed to take on a demonic bent. Bolts of raw energy poured from his fingertips. “You contemptible fools! Don’t you understand that I will not be defeated? This is the day I have awaited all my life. Nothing will go wrong. Nothing can go wrong.”

The Fantastic Four moved apart from each other. Sue, Ben, and Johnny waited for Reed’s command. They were a well-oiled fighting team; they knew how each of them fought, and they learned through the years how to work together like no other four people had ever done before.

At the same moment Reed Richards stretched toward Doom, his arms snaking around the master villain, Ben Grimm leaped forward and grabbed Doom’s green tunic with his massive orange hand. Johnny Storm flamed on and circled over Doom, ready for any action, as Sue Richards stood back, her force field prepared to encircle Doom in an instant should Reed need her help.

Doom’s hands lashed out, and they grabbed the Thing’s face even as Ben’s hands began to crush Doom’s armor. “How dare you touch me, you misanthropic monster? For that you will perish.”

Instantly, Ben’s face began to freeze, and ice formed around his eyes and nose, then spread across his mouth. “What in Sam Hill are ya doin’ ta me, tin-head?” Ben shivered. He released Doom from his powerful grip and clawed at the ice covering his face. “I can’t breathe! Ya blasted rust-spot—yer killin’ me!”

Doom laughed. “You had better believe that, you lumbering lummox. I will destroy you as I will all your friends.”

Reed’s hands pulled Doom away from Ben, forcing the iron Monarch to the floor of the Baxter Building. “Johnny, help Ben—now, before it’s too late. Sue, use your force field—surround Doom, isolate him.”

Johnny dived toward the fallen figure of Ben Grimm. He could hear Ben choking through the thick coat of ice that surrounded his face. “Hold on, you big ox. I’ll melt this gunk off you.”

He doused his flame; only his hands glowed red with heat. His burning fingers touched the ice and it melted instantly. Ben shook his head weakly, gulping for breath.

“Thanks, junior. I owe ya one, but don’t expect me ta pay.”

Johnny grinned. “Just remember me in your will, blue-eyes.”

Ben snorted. “Don’t hold yer breath, hot-shot.”

With a powerful backhand, Doom slammed Reed away from him. He saw Sue Richards poised, her temple throbbing. He only had a moment to act before her force field would surround him, entrap him.

He fired a shock wave at Sue’s feet. She tumbled and fell backward into the small computer bank that lined the far wall. Sparks shot out in every direction as Sue crumpled to the floor.
Doom whirled and fired another blast at Reed, but the master scientist leaped backward toward another wall and reshaped his elastic body into a ball which richocheted off the wall and back into Doom. Then Reed flattened himself, and like a sheet he covered Doom completely, while his fingers probed the incredible iron armor for any weak spots. But there were none to be found anywhere.

Once more Doom electrified his armor, but this time he centered a concentrated blast at Reed’s exposed face. Richards yelped with sudden pain, then fell back.

Doom lunged forward toward the Negative Zone couplings, but he was suddenly caught within a wall of fire which sprang up from nowhere. Above him he could see the Human Torch, poised and angry. “All right, Doom, you can’t escape. Why not just give up and make this easy on all of us?”

Doom thrust his hands forward and fired a blast of cold air at the flaming Human Torch. “Never, you doltish clod! Doom will never surrender—not when he is so very close to final victory!”

The cold air stunned Johnny Storm. His flame ebbed, then faded, and then he fell.

Ben Grimm ran under him, his hands outstretched. “Don’t worry it, junior. I got ya—though I don’t know what I’m gonna do with ya.”

Doom’s hands grabbed the Negative Zone door and he pulled with all his power. The door creaked, whined, protested, but it opened a fraction, and that was more than enough.

The room was suddenly bathed in green as the door flashed open. Doom’s eyes grew wide with wonderment; then his scientific curiosity turned to horror.

He found himself lifted off the floor like a leaf in the wind. The pressure grew all about him. He was unable to find a handhold as he was sucked through the door into the green vastness beyond. Behind him he saw his foes also fall victim to the incredible suction.

They were helpless, buffeted about in the stormy seas of a totally alien dimension. Doom could see the Negative Zone door move farther and farther away from him as he fell and twirled and was drawn to the center of the Zone.

Reed Richards opened his eyes and instantly he knew they were all doomed. Helpless, they were being drawn to the core of the Negative Zone, the magnetic center composed of pure negative energy.

But what frightened Reed the most was the knowledge that the moment any of these five out-of-control humans reached that central core, as their positive energy joined with the negative force, the entire Negative Zone would be completely destroyed in an explosion that could quite possibly annihilate every living being on the Earth itself.

Reed saw the Zone door still opened in the far distance. There would be no way to prevent the dimension-searing blast from escaping and taking the Earth along with it.

Helpless, tumbling head over heels, these five knew they just might soon witness the end of all life everywhere. The thought did not sit well.
To Be Continued...Tomorrow at
Seduction of the Innocent!
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Monday, August 4, 2025

Monday Mecha Madness WORLDS UNKNOWN "Farewell to the Master" Part 1

You know the story...sorta.

You've seen (and/or heard) the story adapted...sorta.
Now read the most faithful adaptation of the tale...short of the original novelette!








And before you go any further, "Gnut" is pronounced "Nut".

That's one of the reasons it was changed when the story by Harry Bates was adapted in 1951 into a movie...

Aw, you guessed!
As you've surmised, there were quite a few changes made when the silver screen version was created and produced!
And, when writer Roy Thomas, penciler Ross Andru and inker Wayne Howard went back to the source material for the never-reprinted Marvel's Worlds Unknown #3 (1973)...well, let's let Rascally Roy himself tell you about that...

Be here NEXT MONDAY for the ASTOUNDING conclusion...plus some kool extras (which will explain why I capitalized "astounding"!)
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(Contains both the 1951 and 2008 versions plus kool extras)
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Thursday, July 31, 2025

Reading Room FANTASTIC FOUR: DOOMSDAY Part 20


Twenty
You Can Read the Previous Chapter HERE!
Johnny Storm awoke with a start. “Where am I?” he inquired. There was darkness everywhere. There was no answer. Either he was alone, or the other party wasn’t talking. Total silence. Johnny could hear only one man breathing. He was alone.

His head ached and he still felt tired. I hadda be drugged. Nothing else could explain it. Drugged and brought here, wherever here is.

He stood up and felt the walls. They were soft to his touch. Not stone, certainly. But what? Well, no use staying in the dark, he thought.

He tried to flame on. He concentrated, but he was unable to ignite. “What the hell’s going on here? Who’s doing this? C’mon, where are ya?” Doom! It has to be Doom. He’s behind all of this. He lured us here. But what do I do about it? I can’t seem to flame on.

He sat down again. There’s gotta be a way outta here. Reed had always told him to think out his plans thoroughly before deciding on a course of action. Don’t waste your power needlessly. Think. Think! THINK!

Doom has somehow canceled my powers. How? I don’t feel any different. I can eliminate the internal factors . . . He may have drugged me, but I don’t think so. My vision’s clear. Heartbeat’s normal. Something external caused this. But what? How?

The room? Possible! Air seems normal. Don’t feel any air pressure. So what did he do? With great care, Johnny Storm ran his fingers over the walls. No projections coming from anywhere. He crouched to his knees. Nothing from the baseboard.

He stood up and tried to ignite again. His finger flickered a bit, then nothing. Something in this room has got to be affecting me. But what?

Anguished, he wrung his hands together. They felt greasy. There was some coating on them. Johnny approached the dim light bulb. It glinted dully off a thin filmy substance that coated his hand.

“That’s it. It’s got to be. He’s put something on me. I’ve got to get it off.” His sharp nails scraped the palm of his hand when he heard the sound come from behind him. He whirled and saw a fan in the ceiling begin to spin. No air blew from it. Suddenly he realized; it was sucking the air up through an exhaust system. Doom was pumping the air out of the room.
“No! You can’t!” Johnny shouted, fear welling in the pit of his stomach. “Don’t do this to me! You can’t!” No use . . . Doom wanted him to die. Screaming would only make him use up his diminishing air supply that much sooner.

He fell to the floor. Gotta keep quiet. Rest. Stay low. Take it easy. He breathed slowly; he remained relaxed. But he continued to scrape clean his palm.

No use, he thought. It’ll take too long to clean this garbage off me. And by the time I do, I won’t be able to use my flame. There won’t be any oxygen left for me to burn.

Whatever I’m gonna do, I’ve gotta do it fast. In five minutes there won’t be any air left. He tore off his shirt and ripped it into small rags. They’ll absorb this greasy stuff faster than my hands could scrape it away.

With savage fervor he rubbed at his right arm and hand. He scraped away the greasy film that covered him. He concentrated; his hand flared for a moment, then faded. Not enough. Still not enough. He worked with a second rag, then a third. His face was sweating with anxiety.

He heard himself gulping for air. He staggered forward to the door, tripped, fell. He lifted himself to his feet again and fell forward, this time to the wall. Grabbing with his hands, he pulled himself along the wall as he felt his feet weaken from under him. He could barely stand up. Could barely walk. But he had to make it to the door.

He stumbled and turned, then tripped backward. The door was next to him now. He could feel the knob in his sweaty hand. Now, with all his concentration, with every fiber of his being behind him, he willed his hand to ignite. He would center all his power into one hand. If that wasn’t enough to do the job, it would all be over.

The door itself was steel, but the frame around it was something different, something plastic. It glowed under the heat, turned bright red, then blue, then white. It began to shift form, to melt, to drip.

Johnny felt the pain overwhelm him. There was so little air to begin with, and his flame was using what was left. He had less than a minute left. He fell to his knees and felt a sharp pain stab through his legs. He had to ignore it, ignore everything but the flame. Had to keep the flame glowing, had to keep burning the framework around the door.

Suddenly, he felt a cool breeze wash across his face. Johnny stared up through half-closed eyes. There was a tiny puncture in the doorframe.

The air gushed through the hole, enlarging it. Johnny grinned as the coldness whipped past him. Hungrily, he swallowed the air, let it play in his throat. Then he collapsed.

He was unconscious for only a moment. His eyes opened and he saw two vague figures before him. They sharpened into view.

“Figgers, junior. Yer always takin’ a nap. Didn’t ya get no sleep?” Ben Grimm’s voice could not be mistaken.

“You great big ape. Get me outta here.” Johnny extended a hand as Ben ripped the door off its frame. “Just tell me one thing, big fella. Where were you when I needed you?”
“Playin’ games with a bunch o’ King Arthur rejects.”

The other figure stepped into view. “Are you all right, Johnny? What happened in there?” Sue was plainly worried. “I found Ben and then we heard you groaning.”

“I guess I’m fine. Just barely. Doom tried to kill me. He almost succeeded. Hey, where’s Reed?” He was sorry he had asked almost as soon as he spoke. Sue’s chin was trembling; her eyes were liquid. “What happened to him? Tell me, damn it. Tell me!”

Ben shook his head and grumbled. “We don’t know, kid. We ain’t been able ta find ’im. We searched everywhere.”

Sue’s voice quivered with fear. “I’m scared, Johnny. I don’t know what Doom’s done to him. What if he’s—” She couldn’t bring herself to finish her thought.

Johnny was grim-faced. “Then we’ll split up and search some more. I don’t think Doom would’ve taken Reed away—not and keep us here. Search every corridor, check if doors lead to phony doors. Knowing Doom, it’s possible Reed was right before us, only we just didn’t see him. Fan out.”

“You don’t have to.” A trembling, weak voice came from behind them. They whirled and saw Reed propped against a pillar, his costume torn, his face white. He staggered forward almost out of control. Then he fell. Ben caught him in his massive arms.
“Stretcho! Wha’ happened?”

Sue pushed passed Johnny and took Reed’s hand. “Darling, talk What did Doom do to you? Please, for God’s sake, tell me. I’ve got to know.”

For several agonizingly long minutes, Reed let his breath return. He waited until he could easily open his eyes. Johnny fetched him some water. Slowly, carefully, he drank it, savoring each mouthful. “I was trapped like a rat in a maze,” he began. “Trapped, with nowhere to go, no lights to see by, and a torrent of burning acid crashing toward me.”

He saw Sue tremble. He lowered his voice to calm her. “I had taken the wrong tunnel hoping to find the maze’s exit. Somehow I had to get through the gushing torrent of acid and head for the correct corridor.

“I could hear the wave rushing toward me, but that was all I heard. I realized then that Doom had shut off the flow of acid into the maze. I also knew that the acid had by now branched off into every corridor, filling each tunnel as it passed by. I was in the farthest section of the maze, and the torrent had diminished by the time it had reached me. There was enough to flow through the tunnel, certainly enough to burn me if it hit me, but not enough to fill the tunnel from the floor to roof.”

He paused again, took another sip of water. It hurt him to talk. He still felt the pains of his escape. Ben scowled. “C’monl C’mon! This is like the end of a serial chapter. I ain’t waitin’ till next week ta find out how ya escaped. Talk, big man . . . talk!”

Reed smiled weakly. He saw the others relax. Ben’s offhanded humor always eased any situation. The big, brawny Thing had a way of seeing right through to the humor of any given problem. “All right, all right,” Reed allowed. “Just give me a moment.”

He sipped some more water, then felt the strength return to his aching bones. “I stretched toward the ceiling, and propped my arms and legs against the walls. I was a paper-thin blanket slithering over the torrent. An occasional wave washed by me. I wanted to scream, to grab my wounds, but if I did, I’d drop to my death.

“I had to press on, fight the pain, edge my way to the end of the corridor, take the other tunnel and continue across the roof until I reached the door. That’s where I faced my toughest problem. I had to somehow open the door without burning my hand. Unfortunately, the doorknob was under the current of acid. There was no way I could get to it.

“I stretched my hand toward my boot. That was the thickest part of my costume. I knew I had to take the risk; otherwise, I would eventually weaken and drop.

“With my hand inside my boot, I reached into the acid. The boot began to smoke instantly. You all know I constructed our costumes out of unstable molecules. It allows me to stretch inside my uniform, Johnny to flame on without destroying his, Sue to turn invisible and take her costume with her. Unstable molecules can do almost anything, but they still burned. I felt acid trickle in, but I kept my hand inside the boot and guided it blindly toward the knob. My fingers began to burn, but I couldn’t stop. I had no choice. The pain became terrible. I thought I would black out at any moment, but I didn’t. Sometimes I wish I had. My face was contorted; I was crying from the terrible pain. It would have been much easier to give in.

“But finally, the door opened. I stretched through, stayed on the ceiling until I was far from the maze. Then, finally, I fell to the floor, where I heard voices. I was still too dazed to realize they were yours, but I inched forward, ready to fight. Then I heard Ben speak, and I knew that voice could belong to only one man. That’s it. That’s all.”

Ben Grimm scratched his brickish chin. “Ya see, even when I ain’t around, I save lives. I’m a regular Florrie Nightingale.”

Johnny shot Ben a glance, then smiled. “You mean Daffy Duck, Ben. Both of you are quacks.”

A huge orange arm shot out, and four stubby fingers grabbed Johnny’s waist and hoisted him in the air. “Wha’d ya say, junior? Ya mind repeatin’ it so’s I can hear ya an’ respond in a manner fittin’ yer statement?”

“All right, you two, stow it. We haven’t got the time for bickering.” Reed stood up, shaky at first. “I want to find Doom, now!”
To Be Continued...Tomorrow at
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