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

Seduction of the Innocent!

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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.

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Seduction of the Innocent!

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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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Reading Room FANTASTIC FOUR: DOOMSDAY Part 17 & 18

Seventeen
You Can Read the Previous Chapter HERE!

Doom entered his private jet and sat in a wide plush chair. He pressed a button on the control board at his side. The robot pilot was activated; the jet would now take off and he would be in America by dawn.

Tomorrow was his birthday, and all had been planned for the special gift he had promised himself. He closed his eyes as the jet shuddered to life. He would sleep now and awaken upon landing. He needed all his strength.

He dreamed. He first saw soft clouds and bright blue sky. He saw rainbows long and beautiful. He saw himself as a boy sitting at a campfire, his handsome father at his side. His father had a broad smile as he sang a ribald song. Other Gypsies laughed in response. He saw his father’s medicine bag at his side. It was always at his side in case it was needed. His father had been a great, caring man.

Then the smile faded from his father’s face as he stood up and bade Victor to follow him. The young boy did as his father commanded.

They walked through the forest to the edge of their small village. He listened as his father spoke. “Someday, Victor,” he had said, “you will be the last Von Doom. You must always remember your heritage, my son. Always remember your father loved you, that we come from a proud line of Gypsies.” Young Victor said nothing, but he listened intently.

At the edge of the forest there was a small cemetery. The markers were crude stones carved with chisel and hammer. They stood before one stone that simply said “Cynthia Von Doom.” Victor realized why he had been brought here. Today was his birthday, May 1. Every May they came to this cemetery to honor his mother.

“Your mother loved you, Victor, as much as I do. She wanted her only son to be a big, tall, handsome man—one great in pride and strength. She wanted her only son to be a good man, compassionate, merciful, loving.”

His father paused and held Victor with both hands as he stared into the young boy’s eyes. “Do you understand that, my son? Strength and compassion, pride and humility. They go hand in hand. Without one, the other is abused. Without compassion to temper strength, there is only the basest of bullies. Without humility to temper pride, there is only arrogance. Do you understand that, Victor? It is important that you do.”

Victor said yes. He understood, although he thought his father was wrong. Mother was compassionate, and the Baron’s men abused her. She had great humility, and the Baron’s men embarrassed her, slaughtered her like an animal. What good were compassion and humility to his mother? They served to have her slain by wanton cowards.

No, strength was important. It could put down those who would seek to humble me. Pride was important. It permitted others to know whom they could not push about.

But Doom simply nodded in answer to his father’s question. He was such a good man that he failed to see how important strength and pride could be. He loved his father and did not want to argue with him. Saying yes would please his father, and that is all he wanted to do just then. Later, when he was older, he would show his father the errors of his ways.

They bowed before the gravestone and said a prayer. Werner Von Doom shuddered a bit. It was no use, he knew. His son didn’t hear or didn’t believe a word he had said. He could see the bitterness set deep in Victor’s eyes. My Lord, Werner thought, so young, and so much like his dear mother.

He feared his son, feared this child’s intensity and ability to hate. Cynthia was as intense, but she didn’t hate. That was the difference. She could be loving, giving. She used her witchly powers for good, not bad. She used her spells to help fertilize their gardens, to help heal their sick, to protect them from attack. But in Victor, he sensed only the power, not the compassion. The world would one day hear about this boy. Victor would grow into manhood with terrifying powers—powers that would lead to his own destruction . . . or the destruction of his pursuers.

All this Werner saw in Victor’s deepset, brooding eyes. He grasped his son’s hand and the young boy looked up at his father. “Yes, Father? What is it?”

Werner smiled weakly. “Nothing, Victor. Let us go home. We still have to make our dinner, eh?” Right now the boy was young. But soon . . . much too soon . . .

Doom’s eyes opened as the jet began its descent. The airport had been notified that Doom the First was arriving. New York’s mayor offered a diplomatic ceremony, but the Latverian embassy said Doom preferred a simple limousine, which they would prepare for their Monarch.

He disembarked and climbed into the car. The next stop was the embassy, and from there, the Baxter Building.

Eighteen

Doom waved his hand across the electric eye, and the elevator door instantly slid open. It had been simplicity itself to duplicate the exact code necessary to open the private elevator of the Fantastic Four.

What would come next would not be simple. Doom braced himself as the elevator reached the proper floor. He was unable to learn how to properly enter his foe’s central headquarters. There would be an arsenal of weapons waiting to attack him. He breathed in deeply. Now he was ready.

The door opened to an outer lobby. Before him were two more doors. Solid steel. They would have to be blasted.

He raised his hand and a bolt of white light flashed from his fingers, bathing the doors in an eerie, unearthly glow. The door convulsed, creaked, shimmered, then dissolved into a slag of molten metal.

From inside there came a faint clicking sound. Doom was alerted. The protection devices had snapped on.

Beyond the door Doom could see the visitors’ reception room. There wouldn’t be any traps there. Too many uninitiated cretins waited in this outer lobby until one of the Fantastic Four would come to greet them. No, Richards wouldn’t allow them to come to accidental harm. The dolt was concerned with human lives; he would do nothing to endanger any man. And that is why Richards and his foolish friends would die and Doom would win. After all, nothing would come between Doom and complete victory.

With an arrogant gesture, he blasted the reception area door from its hinges and stepped inside. Daniel in the lion’s den, he thought. If his hideous mask could smile, it would.

From the floor came a sudden grinding noise. He had stepped on a large square, one of many, yet this one vibrated ever so slightly. He could discern a slight separation between this tile and the one that bordered it. All this he noticed in a fraction of a second, even as a square of plexiglass shot up from the slight separation and attached itself to the ceiling. Doom was surrounded in a plexiglass prison.

“You are a fool, Reed Richards. To think this paltry prison could long stop Victor Von Doom!” He extended his iron arm and grasped the side of the plexiglass with his fingers. “I have no need to even use my incredible powers.”

His fingers pressed outward with incredible force. His iron armor was an exo-skeleton which increased his strength a hundredfold and more. The glass cracked into a spider-web design. Then Doom smashed the prison into a thousand flying fragments with the back of his heavy glove.

“I know you, Richards!” Doom shouted, fully aware his foe was more than five thousand miles away, if he weren’t already dead by now. “You wouldn’t create devices to harm a man. Your weaponry is designed to capture, to imprison, to disarm. You are too weak to kill a fool who deserves death. That shall be your undoing.”

Doom knew the plans to the Baxter Building. The thirty-fourth floor housed the Fantastic Four’s living quarters. There were kitchen facilities, dining rooms, bathrooms, and four bedrooms. The thirty-fifth floor contained their recreation rooms, gymnasium, meditation chamber, and monitoring rooms. The thirty-sixth floor contained all of Reed Richards’s labs. Anything he had to build could be constructed there.

What Doom wanted was on the thirty-seventh floor. Above him, on the top of the Fantastic Four’s five-floor headquarters, were the vehicle maintenance shops, the hangars, and the entrance to the retractable rooftop observatory. Along the side of the headquarters was their rocket silo.

Suddenly, Doom sensed gas spreading through the hallway. Instantly the oxygen system built into his armor was activated. All airholes were covered with a thin, transparent glass.

He made his way to the elevators. These responded to a different code from the ones in the lobby. He placed his fingers along the control panel, then his armor’s computers whirled into frenzied activity. “Damn.” Doom was angry. They could only be activated by the special fingerprint patterns programmed into Richards’s computer.

He had to get upstairs. His fingers clawed the control panel a second time. A white gas spread from them. As the gas touched the metal plate, it became solid, icy. Freezing white ice spread over the panel and the elevator door, covering it completely. Doom stepped back. With every second the ice would get colder until it finally reached absolute zero. But the door would crack long before then.

Within moments the door crumbled to the ground, a useless pile of icy shards. Ignoring them, Doom entered the elevator. His fingers pressed the automatic button. The elevator would rise now.

The elevator rumbled, then ground to a sudden halt. A voice filtered over the sound system. It was Reed Richards, and it took Doom a moment to realize the voice had been taped and programmed.

“To whomever has entered the private elevator of the Fantastic Four: This is Reed Richards. You are trespassing on our property. If you have made it this far, undoubtedly you have encountered several other devices. But I warn you now, you will not penetrate our inner headquarters. I have constructed a series of elaborate protective weapons that will guarantee the sanctity of our headquarters. To go farther would be to risk your life. This has been a warning. I suggest you press the button marked ‘Exit.’ The elevator will take you to a side corridor where you will find a stairwell allowing you to leave unharmed.

“Remember, you have been warned. We are no longer responsible for what may next happen. Consider your alternatives.” The tape clicked off.

Without pausing, Doom again pressed the button marked “thirty-seven,” then dashed off the elevator. The car dropped suddenly out of view. No matter which button was pressed, the car would head for the corridor Richards had mentioned and deposit the trespasser by the staircase.

“You are clever, Richards. Too clever for your own good. But soon you shall meet defeat at the hands of Dr. Doom.”

The elevator shaft was empty now. Doom peered upward and stared into the darkness. This is the only way. I have no other choice.

His powerful hands gripped the heavy steel cables. One hand reached above the other, pulling him upward. There was little problem climbing this way, even with the incredible weight of his armor, but it annoyed Doom to have to use physical force. That was beneath him. He was pleased Richards would soon die, if he already hadn’t been burned to a final cinder.

Gas spread through the tunnel, but the mask’s glass filters were still in place. Angrily, Doom continued his climb.

From the walls, lasers snapped into view. Beams criss-crossed in all directions, bouncing off Doom’s armor. Long ago he had coated his armor with an anti-laser refracting base. Once more Richards had been checkmated.

He paused for a moment; his feet searched out a small ledge. “Damn you, Richards. Damn you for this inconvenience.” Never before had Doom had to work so. With his powers, he always took what he wanted.

As he passed the elevator door on the thirty-fifth floor, the sonic bombardment began. It cut through his armor the way a sharpened scythe slashed through a field of wheat. His head reeled back painfully, his eyes closed into thin slits, and tears poured from them.

The sharp sound rumbled through his brain, his body was in agony, his arms twitched, his legs flailed helplessly. He felt his fingers loosening their grip on the cable. He forced himself to stare downward. If he fell, there would be a thirty-five-story drop. Not even he would survive.

His fingers struggled to maintain balance as he fought to control his mind. He had to shake off the pain the sonics created. He had to close his mind to everything but his mission.

Quietly, he recited ancient prayers forgotten long before the days of the Druids. His mind reached outward and inward; he thought of his mission, his mother, his childhood, his face, his awful, disgusting face. How handsome he had once been, how proud he had been of his manly features. And now, what was it? A scarred, disfigured, pulpy mass, of twisted flesh and scabbed sores.

He remembered his mother’s diary, the curses, the visions, the oaths. He had never mastered sorcery the way his mother had. Science was his to command. He could create whatever he needed. But sorcery eluded him. He wanted that knowledge, knew it was his birthright. He had to possess complete knowledge of the Dark Arts; otherwise, his destiny could never be fulfilled.

He wanted power, the power to destroy all his enemies, the power to rule a world, the power to rule the universe itself. But to do so he needed control over the evil ones, the dark forces, the creatures of hell. He needed to blend his mysticism with his science. No one could defeat him then. No man would dare try.

He heard his breath hissing through his mask; he heard his metal feet clanging against the steel-lined corridor. Then he realized the sonic blast which attacked him had abated. It was over.

Quickly, without pause, he climbed the cables. He thought of nothing but reaching the thirty-seventh floor. Hand over hand, his feet hooked the cables and pushed him upward. It was only a matter of moments now. He could see the elevator door above him, a shining beacon indicating freedom. It drew closer, became larger. Then, at last, it was beside him. He blasted the door off its hinges and he leaped to safety.

He made it. He had conquered death once more. Invigorated with renewed pride, he shouted to the world at the top of his voice, “I am victorious! I have won! I am Victor Von Doom. Let the world beware my awesome power!”

And now, he thought, he need only find what he had come here for.

“Soon, very soon, the Negative Zone will be mine!”

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Reading Room FANTASTIC FOUR: DOOMSDAY Part 13

Thirteen
You Can Read the Previous Chapter HERE!

“John Storm, this is Anna. Anna, John has come from America.” Erich smiled at the raven-haired girl, slightly younger than Johnny. She was beautiful in her long lilac dress with the puffed shoulders and lace at the end of the flared sleeves.

Johnny stood back and took a long appreciative look. The girl was absolutely lovely, her face flawless; she wore no makeup, nor did she need any. Her green eyes sparkled delightfully; her lips were soft and moist. Johnny thought of Frankie Raye and her Bloomingdale’s pantsuits, expensive makeup, and Vidal Sassoon hair-styling, then stared at this peasant girl in her simple homemade dress, her naturally long hair, which draped her soft, milk-white shoulders, and the unpretentious, unhurried aura she seemed to radiate.

Anna, in her natural simplicity, was a more lovely, vivacious woman than Frankie had ever been. Johnny grinned, like a fool, he thought, and extended his hand to Anna. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Anna. Very pleased.” He stammered and Anna blushed.

She bowed timidly. “I have heard of you. You are one of the Fantastic Four, no?” Her voice was as soft and warm as her small, fragile hand. “You once battled with our Monarch?”

Johnny nodded, unsure what to say. Would she defend Doom? Was she against the metal-clad tyrant? All at once he remembered he was no longer in America, where freedom was taken for granted. He was in Latveria, where strangers were looked at askance, where there was hardly a voice raised against the mad Monarch, who ruled everyone with an iron hand.

He saw the hurt in her eyes. She was young, but she had felt the cruel hand of tragedy in her life. “That is good. Doom is a despot. I would see him dead before my own eyes are shut forever.”

The intensity of her hatred startled him. What could Doom have done to her? he wondered. Did he dare lay his hand upon her? Johnny cringed at the thought, and it made his blood boil with rage.

Erich saw the mood overcome her, and saw the confusion in Johnny’s eyes. “She was betrothed once, my friend—to one of the rebels in the underground. Doom’s robot army found them and destroyed them all. It was horrible. For days their bodies were displayed in the public square as a reminder of what Doom would do to any who dared plot against him.”

Johnny’s voice was soft. “I—I didn’t know. I’m sorry, Anna. I truly am. If there was anything I could have done . . .” He stopped. There was nothing. It was already over with.

Anna forced a weak smile. “I am pleased you are here because you may be our people’s only hope. We suffer every day, John Storm. We are thought of as cattle to be herded about as Doom’s mad army demands. We fear for our lives; we rarely voice our discontent. To do so may mean death or worse. Doom is capable of inflicting terrifying torture.”

Johnny looked confused. “I—my friends and I—came through town. People bowed to Doom reverently; they seemed joyful in their admiration. He’s brought prosperity to Latveria, raised your standard of living. I—don’t think me wrong if I say this, Anna, but I don’t understand. What has Doom done to hurt your people?”

Anna looked hurt. “He has given us food and has taken away our freedom. When Doom first took over Latveria, we were a joyous people. Then he created his robot army, his terrible machines, his network of spies. Many, if not most, of our people decided resistance was futile. They gave themselves to Doom, sold themselves into slavery for a morsel of food.

“They worship Doom because they fear him, not because they have love for the iron Monarch. They trained themselves to think Doom cares for them. Today they believe it. But there are a few who know that Doom is evil; they plot against his reign of terror. One day, they hope, they will be strong enough to fight him and, if God is on their side, to destroy him.

“John Storm, will you join with them? You and your friends have powers that could stop Doom. You are the only ones he fears. I—they—are sure you could beat him and return Latveria to its people. Will you help us?”

He gazed into her eyes and saw them fill with tears. They pleaded with him. Her soft hands took his and held them with promise.

His fingers pulled at the flesh on his face. He didn’t know how to answer. Read would never allow them to join in a battle against Doom. Doom broke no international law; he attacked no other nation. He may be a despot and a mad dictator, but there were many others, and the Fantastic Four didn’t traipse into their countries and wrest away control.

They were among the most powerful human beings on Earth, but their power didn’t give them the right to remove governments they disagreed with. Not even the United Nations had that awesome power.

He wanted to help. His every gut reaction was to say yes, but sadly he shook his head. “I can’t. You don’t understand, but my friends and I just can’t do that.”

Her voice sharpened. “You condone what Doom has done?”

“No. I hate Doom. I’ve fought him a dozen times before. I would like to see him done away with for the good of everyone. But I can’t help you. My friends can’t help. We just can’t fight every dictator who—”

“You can help, but you won’t.” Her voice was filled with venom. “I thought you were different from the others. I thought you were heroes. Instead, you are like all the others. You talk about loving peace, but you do nothing to achieve it. Good-bye, John Storm.”

She turned and stalked off, Erich was quiet, and Johnny stood silent, dumbfounded. It hurt him to see that lovely face so filled with anger and hatred.

He began to call after her but stopped himself. He stared for a moment at Erich, but said nothing.

“FLAME ON!” he shouted, and his body instantly ignited. He streaked through the sky back toward the castle.

He wanted to see Reed immediately. He needed advice.

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Reading Room FANTASTIC FOUR: DOOMSDAY Part 11

 
Eleven

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“This is my laboratory.” Doom gestured with great pride at the massive stone room lined on all four sides with complex computers, workbenches, strangely shaped devices, vials, chemicals, papers, instruments created for purposes few men could even guess, mechanized workers hunched over ion-powered microscopes, and assorted other creations.

“In the past year alone, I have perfected wonders that will revolutionize mankind . . . fertilizers that will grow crops five times their normal size. With my wonder serums, I will eliminate hunger and disease. Give me five years and I will cure cancer. Ten more and heart attacks will be something of the past.”

Reed Richards examined a strange circular device sitting on a worktable. “I’ve never seen anything like this before, Doom. It seems to be an element converter for transmutation, but—”

“Excellent, Richards. I see you were able to analyze my device properly. You are right, of course. I am experimenting in elementary transmutation. So far success has been limited.” Doom paused, as if an idea had struck him. “If you wish to join in my research, Richards, I am sure the equations I have been unable to work out will soon be answered. Are you interested?”

Reed smiled. “I’m sorry, Doom, but my research is taking me in other directions. I can’t afford to take time away from my own discoveries.”

“Of course, I understand, Richards. So be it. A shame, though. You and I are the two most brilliant minds this world has ever known. To work together would be an assurance of success. I understand you have your . . . pride, however.” Doom paused before continuing. “Let us move on, if you don’t mind. However, you may feel free to linger. My laboratory and my notes are open to you.”

Ben grumbled. “I don’t like this, Stretcho. He’s playin’ ya fer the fool. What’s ’is game?”

“I wish I knew, Ben. I’ve never seen Doom like this. He’s open, polite, courteous beyond expectation. Unless he’s actually changed, he must be supremely confident in himself. There’s no other explanation.”

“Frankly, Reed, I’m not at all interested in this stuff. You think Doom’ll mind if I scoot around town as the Torch? See if anything’s going on? Maybe I’ll find a girl.” Johnny was bored; he wanted to move on.

“Reed, I have an idea,” Sue said. “If Doom’s willing to show us his castle, then whatever he has planned can’t be here. What if I became invisible and scouted around some? Check things out in a way that wouldn’t anger him.”

Reed nodded. “Good thought. Just be careful, Sue. Stay alert. I know something’s dreadfully wrong, and I don’t want you to fall into any of his traps.”

Sue grinned as she whispered. “How can he set a trap for an Invisible Girl? Besides, if anything happens, I have my energy powers. And I won’t forget my belt radio.

“Face it, Reed, I can handle myself, even if I am just a girl, eh?”

Reed grimaced in reply. “All right, so I’m the last of the chauvinist pigs. I can’t help myself, honey. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Sue bent over to kiss him on the cheek. “Worry about yourself, brown-eyes. I’m not exactly a sitting duck.”

Sue’s eyes closed as she concentrated, and a moment later her body faded from view. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, Reed.” Her voice faded as she left the room.

“Don’t worry it, Stretch, Susie can handle herself. She’s got powers that make us look like Howdy Doody.”

Reed knew Ben was right, but he still didn’t like it. True, Sue could turn herself invisible, or turn anything else invisible if she wished to—although when she did, she couldn’t use her powers on herself. Sue also possessed the ability of forming energy shields, and through practice she learned to shape the energy powers into convenient forms. She could focus her powers with pinpoint precision, or spread them wide enough to shield them all.

There was little Sue Richards was incapable of doing; she had mastered her powers long ago, yet she was Reed’s wife, the woman he loved more than anyone else. If she was hurt in battle, if she were to die, it would be his fault. Because of him she had been given her abilities, and he felt responsible for whatever happened to her now.

Sue quietly approached a sealed door and analyzed the lock. It was bolted from within, but it wouldn’t be hard to pick, not if she could slip her force field through the controls and slide the trip-lock to the right.

No one was around; no one would see her. She’d have only a few moments before someone might come strutting down the corridor. She had to work quickly. Materializing, she concentrated her energy powers at the lock. An invisible beam of pure force snaked through the delicate instrument. Then a faint click was heard. She’d done it.

Smiling, she faded from view again and opened the door, shutting it quickly behind her. She was safe, but she’d best remain invisible. With Dr. Doom, you could never be too sure.

The room seemed to be empty: no furniture, no lights. Nothing. Yet, why was it bolted?

Quietly, she rapped on the wall closest to her. Solid. She tapped the second wall across from her. The same. But the third wall echoed with a dull thumping sound. Hollow. A secret panel?

Delicate fingers spread across the wall. If there was a secret door somewhere, she’d find it.

Her hand touched the molding that bordered the room at waist level. One small section slipped as she brushed by it, and the wall seemed to suddenly shudder.

A black line appeared at one corner. The wall was opening inward at that point. Holding her breath, she ran toward the black space. She entered the opening, and waited for her eyes to become accustomed to the darkness.

Staircase leading to where? She reached out and grabbed a narrow metal railing. Nice of Doom to think of this, she thought. Easier to climb these steps in the darkness.

The wall slid back into place as she reached the bottom of the stairwell and stepped onto a stone floor. Must be spring-controlled. When my weight left the staircase, it closed.

There was complete darkness here, and she used her hands to probe the way. The stone corridor was chilly, damp. She could smell the musk and it nauseated her. This could really be nothing. Old castles always have secret corridors.

There was a squeal behind her, and, somewhat frightened, she whirled around. Something small and hairy brushed past her. Lord, it must’ve been a rat. Oh, God.

It took a moment for her breath to return. I may be torturing myself here for no reason. She felt the breeze come from her right. Must be a tunnel. She turned and saw a faint glimmer of light ahead of her. Well, can’t turn back now. C’mon, Sue, let’s go on.

She reached a large cavern with a small table in the center. A candle resting in a cup sat on the table. A chair tucked neatly between the table legs seemed a good place to rest, if only for a moment. Someone was here, just a few moments ago. There’s no melted wax in the cup.

She called out, “Anyone here?” No answer. Her eyes adjusted to the faint glow and she could see the corridor she had come through. It continued on past the cavern on the other side. Whoever it was had to go that way. She scratched her neck, pushed the hair out of her eyes, and stood up again. May as well go on.

Suddenly there was the scraping sound of steel. A heavy door slid down from the roof of the cavern and sealed off one of the tunnels. She turned toward the other. It was still open. She ran toward it, fear beginning to take hold of her. A second steel door descended.

A bolt of energy shot out from Sue’s temples as she rushed forward. It formed a cushion between the floor and the lowering door. The door jammed into the force cushion with a loud crackling noise. It held. Have to expand the shield. Force open the door. This is a trap. I’ve got to warn the others.

She felt herself grow heavy, tired. Her eyes searched out the candle on the table. Oh, my God . . . of course. It’s burning a sleep gas. That candle was set there to stop me.

Instinctively, she threw a force globe around the candle, and the buffer beneath the door faded from view. The door slammed down, and the echo of steel against stone seemed like sarcastic laughter.

Her hands groped for her belt radio. Damn it, static. I’m too far underground. Either that or Doom had this tunnel especially created to prevent radio waves from piercing it.

She was breathing hard now. What do I do? Invisibility won’t help here. If I remove my force shield from the candle, the gas will put me to sleep. My powers are useless.

She felt utterly defeated and sank to the chair. Reed warned me, but like a proud fool, I didn’t listen.

Then, from the ceiling, she saw the glint of steel. Small openings appeared in the rock. Five tiny openings that began to glow red.

A thin beam of light streamed from one opening. It flashed across the chasm and bounced off the floor, ricocheted off the stone wall, and continued its zig-zag pattern. A second beam from a second opening followed it. Then a third, a fourth, and finally the fifth.

Lasers!

Heaven help me, lasers everywhere—Sue dived off the chair a moment before a ruby beam splintered it. Instantly, the chair disintegrated. A second beam hit the table and bounced off. It must be coated with something. She saw the candle still lit atop it. Of course, Doom doesn’t want the candle snuffed out.

The beams criss-crossed the room in a random, helter-skelter pattern. One of them would strike her at any moment—unless she surrounded herself in a force field.

An invisible ball of energy formed about her as a laser blast struck the shield and skidded off into the wall. Safe, but for how long? I can’t keep the shield in place for more than fifteen minutes. Then what?

Sue Richards had a reason to worry. She had a quarter of an hour to effect an escape, or she would be sliced to so many ribbons.

What do I do? What the hell do I do?

To Be Continued...Tomorrow at

Seduction of the Innocent!

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