Reading Room: FANTASTIC FOUR Part 8

Eight

You Can Read the Previous Chapter HERE!

From the street he looked like a comet streaking across the night skies. Red and blue flames seared the heavens as Johnny Storm headed up to Westchester for his date.

Up here in the sky, ablaze as the Human Torch, he felt free and at home. Nothing could stop him now; not even the sky was his limit.

He arced over the tall buildings of the East Bronx and saw the people far below, pointing up at him in shock and disbelief. Look up, down there, he wanted to shout out. I’m the Human Torch! THE HUMAN TORCH!

Let’s give ’em a show, he thought. A show only the Human Torch could create.

From his flaming fingertips came a ball of fire which shot rocket-like into the air above him, then burst into streamers of flame which cascaded downward, then evaporated before hitting the streets below. A second fireball erupted, then a third and a fourth. Now for the coup de grâce: with both hands wide, he circled downwards toward the ground, streams of flame licking the skies behind him. He abruptly turned and headed upward, curved at places, letting the flames streak longer behind him as he flew. In a moment he was done, and the flaming words “HAVE A GOOD DAY” lit up the night sky for miles in every direction. That’s something they won’t soon forget.

Frankie Raye’s house was a white split-level with amber-colored shutters, a wide garden, and a two-car garage. Garbage cans dotted the streets; the sanitation department would be out in force tomorrow.

The Torch landed, extinguishing his flames even as his feet touched pavement. He carried an asbestos bag across his back and removed a suit Reed had sprayed with unstable molecules. Even bunched up as it had been, it wouldn’t show a crease. He’d be able to knock on Frankie’s door tailored as impeccably as if he had arrived there in a limousine rather than flying comet-like through the skies.

Frankie and Johnny were lovers. The song danced through his head as Frankie Raye opened the door. She wore a paisley dress with short sleeves which were bordered with white lace, and off-green shoes which matched her purse. A green ribbon was tied through her blonde hair, and her straight white teeth flashed an irresistible smile. “You’re right on time, Johnny.” Her voice was warm, soft. “Where’s your car?”

Johnny bit his lip. “It’s in the garage, Frankie. I was hoping we could use yours. Or, better yet, how about staying in? I’ll order us food to be delivered.”

The smile faded from the girl’s face. “You flew here as the Torch?” She waited for Johnny to nod yes. “Johnny, you know . . . you’ve got to know how I feel about that. I—I dated you months before I learned who you were. I really like you, Johnny, perhaps more than I’ve ever liked anyone else. But, God . . . I can’t take your being a super-hero. I hate it when you’re called away in the middle of a dinner to fight some ridiculous crime the police should be taking care of in the first place.

“Why do you do it, Johnny? Why can’t you be normal, a real person, like everyone else? Why, Johnny? Why?”

She paced the living room before sitting on the plump white couch. Johnny wasn’t sure how to reply. “I didn’t ask to become what I am, Frankie. You know that as well as I do. It was an accident, a cosmic joke that I’ve become the butt of.”

He saw Frankie was on the verge of tears. He wanted to hold her in his arms, to make her worries go away. Why did she fear him? What was there about Johnny Storm that made her cringe every time she thought of his being the Human Torch?

He sat beside her, took her arms, and held them with his hands. “Frankie, I love you. I’ve told you that before. I think you’re wrong, though. Yes, maybe I risk my life, but there are others who do that with less assurance of surviving than I do. Policemen take risks every day. Firemen march into blazes that could consume them at any moment. None of them have any special powers, yet they still go out and risk their lives day after day.

“Damn it, Frankie. Tell me what’s bothering you. Don’t hold it in. I have to know if this relationship is going to grow and get better. You’ve got to tell me what is coming between us. What’s driving us. apart?”

Tears rolled down her beautiful face and she took some Kleenex from her pocketbook to wipe them dry. She got up and walked into the kitchen where she took a pitcher of cold water from the refrigerator and poured some into a glass. “It’s everything, Johnny. You’re risking your life, you being who you are: a hero, the center of attention. It’s all that, and it isn’t that, and it’s a lot I can’t possibly explain, and maybe something I don’t even understand myself.”

She paused as she drank the water in a long, continuous gulp. Then she turned from the kitchen and saw Johnny standing in the doorway. “Maybe some people aren’t cut out to date super-heroes? Maybe I’m one of those people. And maybe, Johnny, maybe it’s best if we don’t see each other—at least not for a while. Do you understand?”

“Frankly, no, I don’t. Either you care about me, or you don’t. Either you love me with or without my faults, or you don’t.” He stepped toward the outside door and put his hand on the knob. “I don’t understand you, Frankie. I thought we had something going between us.”

He opened the door and walked into the cold, fresh night. The wind blew his blond hair wild. Frankie Raye stood in the doorway and watched him. “I guess I was wrong about you, Frankie. Damned shame, too. I really loved you.”

Without stripping off his suit, he yelled out “FLAME ON!” His body suddenly ignited and he took to the skies, once more a comet streaking heavenward. Frankie Raye watched until he disappeared from view, then closed the door behind her and slowly walked to the couch. She fell on it and cried, long into the night.

“I love you, too, Johnny. Damn, I love you, and I can’t ever be yours, because I’m scared . . . because I don’t want a hero in my life, because I want a normal home with normal children, a normal life, and you just don’t fit in, Johnny Storm.

“You’re something special, and you can never be normal. You can never walk among people without having them stare at you. Even when you’re not the Human Torch, even when you’re Johnny Storm, you’re special.

“Oh, God, Johnny, I want you so much it hurts. I want you, but I can’t have you. I . . . I just can’t.”

Blast. Damn and double damn! What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I hold on to anybody? What am I doing wrong? Will somebody please tell me? Those were Johnny Storm’s thoughts as he flew southward over the Bronx toward Manhattan.

Reed has Sue; even Ben, monster that he is, he has Alicia. And what’ve I got? Nothing. Myself! Zero! Zilch! I lost Dorrie Evans. I lost Crystal. I’ve lost every girl I’ve ever loved. Now, Frankie. Blast!

His flame shimmered red and blue as it cut a swath across the skies. He felt alone, impotent, miserable. He was twenty years old, a member of the Fantastic Four, the premier super-hero organization of its kind. He had traveled throughout the world and to other worlds. There was little he had never seen, less he had never done, yet the blond-haired youth was not satisfied.

He was alone in a world where two was the most important number. Couples. Pairs. Man and woman. Husband and wife. And he was a one . . . a damned one.

It wasn’t his super powers that separated him from everyone else. Reed and Sue had powers certainly equal to his own. They found love and marriage and happiness together. He knew there were other heroes: Spider-Man, Iron Man, Captain America. Surely they didn’t suffer as he did. They couldn’t be as alone as he was.

His sister raised him as a child; she watched him grow. He was bright, though teachers had always said he never applied himself as he should. He went to college, then dropped out after his first year. What could they teach him? He had been everywhere, he thought, or perhaps he rationalized.

He was good with machines. He could take apart a car and reassemble it better than it had originally been. There was nothing about motors he didn’t know. He had talent, he was handsome, he was a hero.

So why couldn’t he get a girl? Why didn’t women return the love he felt? Why was he always alone?

His mind buzzed with questions and felt helpless when no answers became clear. What good was being a super-hero if his life was all screwed up?

He streaked across the skies, heading toward the Baxter Building. Maybe Frankie wasn’t feeling well. I’ll give her a call tomorrow.

When the belt radio buzzed and Reed Richards’s voice spoke, he didn’t know he wouldn’t speak to Frankie Raye tomorrow. He didn’t know he might never speak to Frankie Raye again.

He didn’t know that by tomorrow night, there was a very good chance he would be dead.

To Be Continued...Tomorrow at

Seduction of the Innocent!

Support Atomic Kommie Comics

Visit Amazon and Buy

Fantastic Four: Doomsday

AudioBook

Paid Link

Reading Room: FANTASTIC FOUR: DOOMSDAY Part 6

Six
You Can Read the Previous Chapter HERE!

“Reed Richards! My God, it’s been years. How are you, lad?” Dean Collins had a broad smile as he shook Reed’s hand. “You’re our most famous alumnus, Reed. You don’t know how pleased I am you came.”

Reed smiled, happy to see the older man. Dean Collins had been his mentor throughout his four years at E.S.U. “I’m glad I could make it. You know my wife Sue, of course.”

Sue Richards nodded at the retired Dean. “I’m happy to finally meet you, Mr. Collins. Reed has told me so much about you that I feel I know you personally.”

Dean Collins took her hand and kissed it. “And you’re even lovelier than your photographs picture you to be, my dear. Come, let me introduce you to some of the others.”

Dean Collins led her into the large crowd of people milling about the bar. Reed smiled. Retirement hasn’t aged him one bit. Good for him.

The room was a converted gymnasium, with the bleacher seats rolled back, decorations hung, and tables hastily set up with food and drink. A portable bar was manned by professional bartenders who carefully poured drinks for the joyous crowd. Reed estimated more than three thousand schoolmates jammed the large gym.

Ben Grimm stiffly picked at his collar. “Sheesh, Collins didn’t even give a hello. Ya think he didn’t recognize me, Stretcho? Ya don’t think I changed that much since college, eh?” Reed suppressed a growing smile.

“Dean Collins and I worked together for several years, Ben. He got me my first job with the Science Institute. You were here on an athletic scholarship.”

“Sure, sure. He just didn’t realize who I was, right? I mean, ya seen one orange-skinned monster an’ they all get ta look alike, don’t they? Sheesh.

“Alicia, ya want me ta get ya a drink?” Alicia smiled sweetly. “Yer regular, babe?”

Ben plodded over to the bar, where several of his old classmates toasted one another. One of the women saw him first and gasped. “Oh, God, what is he? Look at him! He’s a . . .” She couldn’t say “monster” as Ben stared into her eyes.

“I’m the school nurse, blondie. Ya wanna make somethin’ of it?” His coarse voice thundered in the woman’s ears. Frightened, she backed away from him and clutched her husband’s arm.

The man gulped in horror. He had to say something. He had to protect his wife from the . . . the thing that stood no less than three feet from him. “Wh-why did you scare Madeline like that? She didn’t do anything to you.” His knees wobbled in fear. What would the creature do?

Ben turned to the bartender and ordered two vodka gimlets, then returned to see the small man quaking before him. “Lemme see, here, I was just orderin’ a couple o’ drinks, an’ yer old lady called me a monster. The way I see it, she’s the one who scared me. Ya gotta understand, shortie, ta me, yer the monsters.”

The man backed off a foot and tried to shake off his fear. “P-please apologize to my wife. Look at her.” He puffed out his chest, regaining his lost courage.

Ben stepped closer to the man and stuck out a finger. It hooked the man under his collar, and effortlessly, Ben lifted him off his feet. “Tell ya what, baldie, how’s about we both ferget this before ya make me real angry an’ ya force me ta ferget this is supposed ta be a party. Understand?”

The room was silent now, all eyes turned toward Ben and his frightened adversary. Would there be a fight, even though everyone knew it would only last a fraction of a second?

Alicia spoke up. “Excuse me, Ben, I thought you were getting me a drink.” Ben nodded sheepishly. It had been years since he had become the Thing. By now he should have been accustomed to the horrific stares his presence elicited.

“I was doin’ just that, babe—then baldie, here, hadda go cause some trouble. Ya know me. I hate trouble.” Ben ambled over to the bench where five rather heavyset men sat. “Don’t get up,” Ben said as he lifted the bench and the men with one hand.

“Ya know how I just shrivel up when trouble comes my way, babe. Anyway, he was just gonna apologize an’ then we wuz all gonna go back ta havin’ fun.” Ben gently put the bench back in place. “Weren’t ya, shortie?”

The man nodded. “I’m sorry. I won’t bother you again. I promise.” He looked back at his wife, glaring at him. Madeline would have to understand. He didn’t want to find himself dismembered. Not this evening.

Ben smiled. “I knew ya’d see things my way, guy. Tell ya what, the drinks’re on me. Awright?”

The man shook his head. “I’m giving up drinking. I don’t want to touch this stuff again. In fact, I don’t feel very well. I’ve got to go. C’mon, Madeline. We’ve got to go.” He tugged at his wife’s arm.

“But, Gregory, I—”

“We’ve got to go, dear. We’re selling the house tonight and moving to another state . . . maybe another country. Uh, good-bye. Nice meeting you all. Madeline . . . c’mon. Now!”

They left Madeline confused. Then Ben turned toward the crowd. “I said the drinks were on me—at least the first dozen. C’mon.”

Within moments, the joyous drone returned to the gymnasium. The band began its stirring rendition of “How Much Is That Doggie in the Window?” And voices could be heard everywhere. The minor distraction was all but forgotten.

For one hour, the party continued, couples danced, old acquaintances were renewed, business cards were exchanged, and phone numbers were traded along with mutual promises of getting together soon.

Old flames came upon each other, men meeting women they had loved and left, women introducing their current husbands to old boyfriends. Embarrassing stories were dredged up; school songs thought to be forgotten were remembered and sung out of tune.

It was ten-thirty when Reed noted a commotion at the gymnasium door. There were crowds of men and women streaming to the door. “Something’s happening, Sue,” Reed said. “I’ve got to see what’s going on.”

Sue held him back. “It’s probably nothing, darling. Or maybe Ben’s getting into another ruckus. C’mon, introduce me to that stunning redhead who’s been giving you the eye all evening.”

Reed shot Sue a strange stare. “What redhead? I didn’t see anyone.”

Sue smiled cunningly. “I bet you didn’t. Confess, husband, was she an old girl friend you don’t want me to know about? I’m not letting you off the hook so easily.”

The commotion at the door continued. Then there was a hushed silence as Reed could hear Dean Collins’s voice coming from the crowd. “I—I don’t think you should come in here. You’re not—” Collins’s voice stopped abruptly.

It was replaced by another voice, a cold voice, one devoid of any emotion. It sounded harsh to the ear, rasping, as if it were mechanically filtered. “I was a student here, Collins. I demand entrance, and I will not be denied.”

Reed recognized the voice instantly. He had heard it many times in the past, and each time it filled him with dread.

He stretched his neck to the gymnasium roof to peer above the crowd. It was him. His worst fear had been realized. Of all of Empire State University’s students, he was not expected to show his presence here. Certainly not without fanfare. Indeed, Reed had not even known he was in the country.

The crowd parted, and the tall man entered. Then Sue let out a stunned gasp.

Majestically, powerfully, he stepped inside the gymnasium, knowing all eyes were now upon him, as well they should be.

The large hall seemed to shrink with the sudden and unexpected appearance of Empire State University’s most infamous student . . . DOCTOR DOOM—MONARCH OF LATVERIA!

To Be Continued...Tomorrow at
Seduction of the Innocent!
Support Atomic Kommie Comics
Visit Amazon and Buy

Fantastic Four: Doomsday

AudioBook
Paid Link

Reading Room: FANTASTIC FOUR: DOOMSDAY Part 3

Three
You Can Read the Previous Chapter HERE!

“Von Doom, you are hereby sentenced to death for crimes against our people. Have you any last words?” The wide man stared at the tall figure of Victor Von Doom. Damned Gypsy thief, he thought, you deserve this death and more for what you have done.

Von Doom laughed and said nothing.

“Very well, then,” the heavy soldier continued. “Guards! Take your aim . . . fire!”

Seven bullets slammed into the tall, proud figure. Seven bullets cut through yielding flesh. Yet, when the smoke cleared, Von Doom still stood. And, more—he spoke. “You shall all live to regret this. Victor Von Doom swears you all shall suffer.”

One of the guards who had fired at Doom recoiled in horror. “I shot him. I know I did. How can he still live?”

Fearfully, they stepped closer to Doom, and it was then that the world first learned of Doom’s awesome talents. The man they had shot was not a man at all, but a finely constructed robot whose intricate circuitry was far beyond the science of any other living man.

Doom was an absolute genius. Using his mother’s sorcery, he had mastered science. And for years he plied his science toward trickery and deceit. He had become an outlaw, wanted by the Latverian Army, and then, when they thought they had finally captured the willy Gypsy, he turned out to be a lifelike mannequin.

His evil genius continued to grow. He launched a private war on the Baron and his soldiers, and when the Baron at last fell dead at Von Doom’s feet, a truce was called. Victor Von Doom was no longer a hunted man.

He was twenty when the American came. “Master,” Old Boris said, “a stranger wishes to see you.”

Doom’s brow furrowed. “A stranger? Very well, show him in.”

The American smiled, hiding his nervousness. So, Doom silently chuckled to himself, even a foreigner can sense my ultimate power. Good. Very good. “What is it, man? I am busy.”

The stranger was short, wearing a checked suit and tie, and thick horn-rimmed glasses. “Von Doom,” he said, “I’m the Dean of science at Empire State University. We’ve heard some very interesting things about you. And, frankly, after seeing some of your work here, I, uh, I think my trip may have well been worth it.”

“To the point, man. My time is important.” Doom’s eyes glared contemptuously at the stranger. He had heard Americans were weak-kneed fools. Were they all like this simpleton?

The American was stammering now, nervous before this demon-eyed youth. “I . . . I’m prepared to offer you a scholarship to my university. I’m sure you’re interested, and we can—”

But Doom cut him off sharply. “Your laboratory has the latest equipment? I demand nothing but the best.”

“It has.”

Doom ignored him and turned toward Boris. “You will stay here with the others until I return.” Then, turning back to the American, Doom added, “Let us go now. I wish to begin my work.”

Empire State University was a large, sprawling campus with more than ten thousand students. But they didn’t interest Doom; all he wanted were the laboratories.

One by one, he examined the many labs: biology, physics, geology, chemistry. They would do. He glanced at his hand-written notes and thought aloud, “It could work. It could very well work.”

“Anything in particular, friend?” Doom turned toward the tall smiling youth leaning in the doorway of the lab. “I asked, does anything in particular work, or are you just thinking aloud?” The youth was Doom’s age, and he had short-cut brown hair which was already graying at the temples. Another mindless American dolt.

“Uh, it’s just that it looks like someone else is as anxious to use the labs as I am. My name’s Richards. Reed Richards.” He extended a hand.

Doom picked up a slide and placed it under the microscope. “That is of no concern to me. Leave me alone.”

Richards let out a long, low whistle. “Look, I don’t know why you’ve got this king-sized chip on your shoulder, but being we’re both here on scholarship, how about us rooming together?”

“I have no wish to share a room with anyone,” Doom said, his voice sharp and final. “I demand privacy! Good-bye.”

Reed Richards shook his head, smiling, though exasperated. “Well, it’s none of my business, but aren’t you carrying this ‘mad scientist’ bit a little too far? I only offered friendship.”

Shoving the microscope aside, Doom stood up. “Men always think their superiors are mad. Now leave—this moment. I have no wish for further conversation—now or at any other time.”

“Whatever you want, pal. It’s fine with me.” Richards was almost pleased he had been rebuffed. There was something ominous about Doom.

Leaving the Latverian, Reed roomed with another man, a big, burly football hero named Benjamin Grimm. As they became fast friends, Doom stayed alone, hidden in his laboratory.

Months flew by; classes were cut. But nothing mattered to Doom save his experiments. Not even Dean Collins could speak to the Latverian student with the delusions of grandeur. “See here, Doom,” Collins had told him, “you’re a student. I have no use for foul-tempered children. You will conform to university regulations, or . . .”—he let his voice drop for effect—“. . . or you will leave. Is that understood?”

Doom said nothing. For the moment, he needed the university and its equipment. And if it meant mollycoddling this base inferior, so be it. With an arrogant gesture, he spun and strutted out of the office and returned to his laboratory. He would have to speed up his work and then get out.

The door to his lab was ajar. Inside, a small desk lamp silhouetted the tall figure of Reed Richards hunched over an open ledger. Doom’s temper flared. “What are you doing here, cretin?”

Calmly, Richards turned. “Just wanted to say hello and see how you’re doing. You’re into some heavy material, Doom. Matter transmutation and dimensional warping. Interested in working with a partner? I’ve got my own theories on Negative space that—”

Doom cut him off. “I told you before, lout, Victor Von Doom works alone. Now, get out of here, or next time I see you I shall make you regret having come here.”

“Just trying to be friendly. By the way, you’d better double-check some of these equations. You’re a few decimal points off.”

Doom’s voice cut like thunder in the night. “Give me that! Now, get out! Get out this instant!”

Reed handed Doom his ledger and left, shutting the door behind him. No use in trying to befriend that maniac.

The reconstructed laboratory was behind his room; the newly built machinery was humming as usual. In the center of the darkened room sat a heavy steel-gray chair, wires and metal tubing lining its sides. Von Doom smiled. What could that fool know of equations? I am Victor Von Doom! I do not make mistakes!

“Von Doom?” The frail voice came from the shadows. The thin, blond-haired assistant stepped forward. “Von Doom, I fixed up your gadget the way you wanted, but I still don’t like it.”

“Yours is not to question me, dolt! Do as you are told!” Arrogantly, he strode toward the chair and sat heavily in its iron seat. He glanced toward the blond-haired man, who twitched fearfully as Doom stared at him.

“If the faculty staff ever learns that you’ve been conducting forbidden experiments, trying to contact the nether world—” He shook his head sadly.

“Those cretins will learn nothing, fool. By tomorrow my experiments will be done.” Doom gestured toward the red-painted lever on the computer console facing him as he lowered a clear plastic dome over his face. “You will throw that switch now. It is time! Now!”

“But—?”

“Now!”

Doom almost grinned, but he quickly clenched his jaws. My dreams will now become reality. His mind wandered to his mother: She dared to risk the infinite. She dared to challenge the universe. She—

A single corruscating moment almost ended all of Doom’s dreams forever. There was a flash of intense light, and a heart rending explosion. It tore through the laboratory walls and shattered glass everywhere throughout the campus.

The lab was a smoky ruin; chrome-steel computers were reduced to twisted lumps. Yet, somehow, miraculously, Doom still lived.

His bones were crushed, his face torn and mangled, yet he didn’t cry—not when he was dragged from his lab little less than dead, not when surgeons labored over him month after month refitting bone, grafting skin and tissue, applying new medicines never before used.

He lay helpless in bed for months longer, never speaking, never divulging what successes or failures his experiments had had.

Six months passed before he could move. And then his progress was astonishing. One day he was paralyzed; the next day he could walk. Doctors certified he would never again speak, that his vocal cords were frozen. Then, in a thick, heavy voice that sounded like roaring cannons, he’d order those same doctors to leave him alone.

Seven months to the day of the explosion, Dean Collins entered the darkened hospital room. The shades were drawn; only a small candle provided light.

“What do you want, Collins?” Doom demanded.

“To tell you that I am expelling you from school. You’re uncontrollable, Doom—a menace to us, and a menace to yourself. I’ll not put up with it any longer.”

For perhaps the first time in his long, grim life, Doom laughed. “There is nothing more you dolts can teach me, anyway. You had outlived your usefulness long before the accident occurred. Now, get out! If I ever see you again, I swear you shall feel my unending wrath!”

To Be Continued...Tomorrow at
Seduction of the Innocent!
Support Atomic Kommie Comics
Visit Amazon and Buy

Fantastic Four: Doomsday

AudioBook
Paid Link

Before You See Fantastic Four: First Flight...

...Enjoy the Long (Almost 50 Years) Out-Of-Print Premiere Novel...

...starting right now!
One

Ben Grimm tore open the wide envelope with the thick, brickish stumps that passed for his fingers. His bright blue eyes sparkled for a moment as he read the printed announcement. “Brush my teeth an’ call me Smiley! I don’t believe this.”

Lifting his massive body from the heavy iron chair especially constructed for him, he stomped out of the recreation room and headed for the private high-speed elevator which would take him to the thirty-seventh-floor lab where Reed Richards was undoubtedly hard at work on some new invention.

Ben grunted. Reed always had his long nose into something, and he was sure today would prove no different.

The elevator door shuddered as it reached the thirty-seventh floor, and the chrome-steel door slid noiselessly open. Ben stepped from the elevator and glanced at the lab door at the far end of the long blue corridor. His heavy footfalls echoed with every plodding step.

“I ain’t been back there in years,” he muttered to himself. “It’ll be a blamed gas!” He was standing before the laboratory door now as he passed his hand over the electric-eye beam which would automatically activate and slide it open.

He entered, craning his neck in an attempt to find Reed Richards. “Hey, Stretcho, lay yer peepers on this. Ya ain’t gonna believe it.” Suddenly he heard Reed shouting at him. Something was wrong. Reed was in trouble.

“Ben! Get over here fast! We’ve got a rip in the Negative Zone couplings! It could blow at any moment!”

Instantly, Ben whirled, stabbing his massive hand at the emergency signal on the wall behind him. Sue and Johnny had to be alerted. Their powers would be needed if—Ben leaped toward the far end of the lab when he heard the soft hissing whistle. He saw his friend struggle to brace a heavy steel plate over the Negative Zone door. Ben’s lumbering body moved with surprising speed for a man almost as wide as he was tall. In a moment he was at Reed’s side, his legs, which were thick as tree stumps, spread wide and firm for support. Ben pressed his powerful shoulders against the door as Reed stretched a long arm toward the opposite wall.

“You’ve got to hold it, Ben. We can’t let it explode.” Reed’s voice was filled with dread; the last time the Negative Zone door had opened, Reed had almost lost his life in the hideous dimension that existed on the other side.

“Then do somethin’, high-pockets.” Ben’s wide mouth was distorted with pain. “It ain’t holdin’. I can’t keep ’er still. It’s shakin’ like a belly dancer’s navel.” But Reed had already stretched back to his friend’s side, his long fingers gripping the handle of an acetylene torch. Then, from behind them both, came a youthful voice. “Forget that, Reed. I’m here.”

The master scientist turned to see Johnny Storm standing in the doorway, poised for action. Reed’s wife, Sue, stood behind her younger brother.

“Reed! What happened?” she cried out, then ran to her husband’s side. Sue then saw Ben straining at the Negative Zone door and quickly understood. “Johnny, you’ve got to do something fast!”

But Reed shook his head violently. “Get back, all of you. That terrible vortex could draw us all to our dooms. Get out, seal off this floor.”

Johnny Storm gave a hurried smile. “No way, brother-in-law. Your acetylene flame isn’t any match for the Human Torch. FLAME ON!” As he shouted, his flesh shimmered, then exploded with flame which spread instantly over his entire body. He pushed passed Reed and grabbed the heavy steel plate Ben was pressing to the door. “This is gonna get hot, blue-eyes. Think you can stand it?”

Ben grunted his answer. “Ain’t nothin’ you can dish out that I can’t take, ya hot-headed little twirp. G’wan, use yer blasted flame an’ don’t worry none about the ever-lovin’ Thing.”

Johnny grinned for a moment, then increased the intensity of his flame as he slowly began to melt the doorway back in place. He and Ben had been arguing back and forth ever since the Fantastic Four had been formed, but they both loved each other as if they were brothers.

Sue Richards gripped her husband’s arm; her eyes mirrored the fear she felt growing in her stomach. Ever since they had become the Fantastic Four she knew they constantly risked death. But she had always envisioned their deaths resulting from some great battle to save humanity from an awesome foe. She had never given thought to their dying because of mere steel couplings that should have been replaced months ago which would tear down the barrier between their dimension and the terrible darkness of the Negative Zone. This would be a wasted end . . . a horribly wasted death.

Though she was frightened her voice was quiet and firm. “Reed, can Johnny do it in time? Is there a chance?”

Reed shook his head. “I don’t know, Sue. If Ben can keep the steel plate from slipping, and Johnny can weld it to the door quickly enough, we stand a good chance of making it.”

It took less than a moment for all of Reed’s hopes to be shattered. The steel crumpled like cardboard in Ben’s hands, and the lab room was suddenly bathed in a sickly, unearthly, blinding green light.

Glass test tubes and slides flew across the room toward the yawning hole beyond the portal. Reed shouted over the awful roar. “Grab something—anything! If you value your lives, you’ll hold onto a steel support beam!”

Papers and books tumbled helter-skelter through the portal and then vanished into the greenness beyond. A massive chair jerked forward and crashed into Johnny Storm, who stood closest to the open portal, fighting to maintain a handhold on a bolted lab table. “Reed!” He screamed. “I’m losing my grip!”

Sue reached forward, her temple throbbed with pulsing energy. Invisible tongs stabbed from her mind and grabbed for her brother. “Hold on, Johnny. I’ve set up a force field to catch you.”

The energy tongs snaked around Johnny’s waist and held him firm, but Sue wobbled under the terrible pressure the Negative Zone was exerting.

“I’m not going to be able to hold you for long. Can’t fight the vortex and keep you steady. Johnny, please try to grab something before it’s too late.”

Reed flattened himself against a wall, his pliable body stretched wafer-thin by the awesome pressure which held him in place. But he could still think, and instantly he formed a plan. “Ben, grab onto Sue and anchor yourself. Johnny, Sue’s going to let down her force shield. Try to grab for safety any way you can.” His eyes darted toward his three friends as they struggled to hear him. “Sue, when Ben has grabbed you, form the strongest force field you can to seal off the Negative Zone door. Hold it in place as long as you’re able. You understand that?”

Ben Grimm nodded. “I ain’t gonna let Susie go. Don’tcha worry, Stretcho.”

At once he lunged for the young blonde-haired woman and grabbed her with his powerful four-fingered hand. His other hand darted toward the wall and his fingers dug through the reinforced steel to create a handhold. “Awright, Suzie, it’s up ta you.”

Her head throbbed with incredible pain as the vortex power increased with every passing moment. Raw, seething energy lashed out to draw her through the portal, to be lost forever in the Negative Zone that lay beyond.

A million needles pricked her flesh and distorted her usually perfect features. Her stomach heaved in agony as she struggled to banish the pain from her mind. She had to think clearly, precisely; otherwise, she would be unable to use her powers.

Form an energy wall, she commanded herself. Form a damned energy blockade and cover the Negative Zone. It’s our only chance. You’ve got to be able to do it.

Once more her temple throbbed and an invisible force was unleashed. It spread over the doorway, layer upon layer, each reinforcing the previous one. Slowly, she felt the pressure ease off, and then she saw a frantic Johnny Storm collapse corpse-like to the floor. Her eyes grew wide with horror. “Johnny! God, no—Johnny!”

Reed’s angry voice shook her from her horror. “Forget him, Sue. Keep focused on the energy door. That’s your only mission. Keep up the force field. Don’t allow the Negative Zone to smash through your energy barrier.”

But her brother lay unconscious, perhaps dying, on the floor before her eyes. How could Reed subject her to this stress? Blood seeped from her lips where she had bitten herself during the confusion.

Reed stretched his elongated body toward the acetylene torch, then glanced up at Ben, who was staring in shock at Johnny’s unconscious body. “Ben, I need you now. I’ve got to weld the door shut. It’s only temporary, but Sue can’t keep her shield in place much longer. You with me?”

Ben was uncertain what to do next, but Reed’s voice was strong, firm. “Yeah, yeah, I’m with ya.” He saw Sue staring at her brother’s body, praying for some sign of life, and all the while concentrating to maintain her force field.

Reed curled around the torn and shattered lab and pointed toward a small closet door beneath the lab table. “In there, Ben—you’ll find a reinforced steel support plate. We’ll use it to replace the shattered door. Hurry! Sue’s weakening.”

“Got it, Mister. What now?” Ben saw Sue’s legs wobble for a moment, then tense. Poor kid, she’s dyin’ inside ta be next ta Johnny now, but she knows Reed’s right. We gotta pertect the Zone door. That comes first.

“All right, Ben. Hold it over the opening. I’ll use the torch; then Sue can release her shield. The door should hold until I can construct a permanent replacement.” Fifteen agonizingly long minutes passed before Reed Richards could look up from the door. “All right, Sue,” he said softly, “release your shield, but stay ready. If our support isn’t strong enough, we’ll know it in a moment.”

The replacement held firm, and Reed let out a long, deep breath, then rushed to Johnny’s side. Sue was already over her brother, her small, delicate fingers on his muscular chest.

“How is he, Sue? He’s alive. He’s got to be alive.” Reed’s voice was intense, filled with deep concern.

Saying nothing, Sue nodded. Then: “I—I think he’s just stunned. I don’t feel any broken bones, and his pulse is almost normal.” She reached out for Reed’s hand and held it firm for support. Then she stood and Reed brought her to him. Her head buried itself in Reed’s chest.

“It’s all right, honey. You can cry if you want to. I think we all need the release. It’s been one helluva morning.”

With a sharp pain, Johnny Storm opened his eyes to see a blinding light shining at him.

Instinctively, he shut his eyes again. “Hey, what’s going on here? Shut off that blasted light, will ya?”

Slowly, he opened his eyes a second time and he saw Reed hunched over him, the light in his hand now pointed away from the blond-haired Johnny Storm. “Reed? Wh-what happened? Where am I?” He knew the answer even before Reed could reply. He was in his private room on the thirty-fourth floor of the Baxter Building.

“You’ll be fine now, son. Just take it easy for the day.” Reed smiled as he stood up.

Ben Grimm plodded over to his side. “Bah, I shoulda known the pipsqueak would pull through. He’s like a stubborn jackass. An’ here I hadda waste five bucks buyin’ ’im a book ta read while he wuz gettin’ better. What a waste o’ hard-earned bread.” Johnny grinned. “Consider it money well spent, Ben. Now you can curl up with it and have someone read it to you.”

Ben lunged forward, his powerful arm reached out, and he grabbed Johnny’s shirt. “I hope yer smilin’ when ya say that, match-head. ’Cause if ya ain’t, I’m liable ta ferget that yer weak an’ sickly. Know what I mean?” Johnny faked an anguished pout. “Oh, you can see I’m just terrified for my life. The big, orange, walking and talking brick wall is threatening me. Oh, woe is me.” Sue glanced at Reed. “I guess everything’s back to normal. Those two are fighting again.” Reed nodded. “They aren’t happy unless they can tear each other down. I’ll never understand them.”

Then Ben looked up and removed a wide envelope from the blue swimtrunks that he wore. “I almost fergot; this came fer us, Stretcho. I think ya’ll get a kick outta it.”

Reed read over the printed invitation and a slight smile crossed his lips. “You are cordially invited to attend your gala class reunion at Empire State University.

“Lord, I haven’t been back there in years. Sue, we haven’t anything scheduled, have we?” Sue shook her head no.

“Class reunion . . . so much has happened since those days that it almost seems like an eternity and not just a few years.”

Ben nodded. “Ya better believe it, Stretcho. Since those days, ya became a big-brained scientist and conned us inta takin’ yer cockamamie rocket fer a ride inta outer space.” Ben’s thoughts drifted to that day, many years back. “I told ya yer shieldin’ wuzn’t gonna be strong enough ta keep out the cosmic rays, but ya wouldn’t lissen. Now look at what those cosmic rays did ta us.

“It turned Susie into a blasted Invisible Girl whenever she wants ta pull a disappearin’ act; it made the kid here a Human Torch, an’ ya can stretch like ya was a walkin’, talkin’ rubber band. As fer me . . .”

Ben paused; his deep, rumbling voice became lower, softer. “It turned me inta this orange monster. Sheesh, I tell ya, Mister, at least ya three look human. I look like the underside of a brick wall.”

Ben was taller than Reed, towering almost six and a half feet. His flesh had become coarse, hard, orange, brick-like blocks. He had no hair on his massive, craggy head. No hair and no ears. His brick brow was ridged and jutted over his round blue eyes. His mouth was a long obscene slit across his grotesque face.

He had a huge barreled chest which was also crag-like. His impossibly broad shoulders had massive stanchion-like arms growing from them. His hands were huge and three-fingered with a thick stubby thumb. His legs were thick columns with a four-toed foot at each end. For all intents and purposes, Ben Grimm had become a monstrous hulking Thing, and Thing was what he caustically called himself.

But Reed Richards wasn’t thinking of the cosmic accident which had created The Fantastic Four. He thought of school, and of one student in particular.

He thought of Victor Von Doom, and without thinking, he shuddered.

To Be Continued...Tomorrow at
Seduction of the Innocent!
Support Atomic Kommie Comics
Visit Amazon and Buy

Fantastic Four: Doomsday
AudioBook
Paid Link