(no subject)
love pulps. While they may not be well-written and were, at times, very sexist and racist, they had this sense of imagination and excitement that's nothing short of captivating. Which is why, when it comes to story ideas, I often wind up looking to this era for inspiration.
The story you're about to read grew out of the plot bunny I got while reading Jess Nevin's long, extensive list of nearly every pulp character ever. Basically, many pulp heroes had archenemies. Those enemies were usually scheming scientists, master criminals, foreign spies, ect. They shared an intense bond of mutual hatred. They often hurt each other, abused each other and took each other's actions far too personally.
As a matter a fact, there seemed to be something oddly masochistic about them.
This story takes that idea to what I feel is it's logical conclusion.
ARCHNEMESIS
---- April 9, 1952---
My name is Warren Kenneth Carr. Most of you know me as Warren Kent. It’s hard to believe that, out of all the aliases I had over the years, this was the one that stuck.
Adventurers are not popular these days. Now that the World War II is over, everybody wants to forget about us. Maybe you think that if you ignore us, we will go away.
Who knows? Maybe you’re right.
I feel old. I am not even forty, and I feel old. I have seen too much. Fought too long. My body is bruised and beaten. I take pills to keep away the dreams. I want to let go. I should let go.
I can’t let go.
There are loose ends that need to be tied up. Things that need to be taken care of. Scores to settle. Then, I will finally be able to let go.
And you’ll have one less hero to ignore.
God, I need a drink.
I never had a choice. Not really. My parents were adventurers. My father was Maxwell Carr, the Lightning Ace. My mother was Molly Jones, better known as Molly the Sky-Belle. They met during the Great War. After the war ended, they kept adventuring, flying to distant lands, taking risks, challenging limitations, setting records, defying death and, of course, fighting all sorts of menaces.
They lived in a different world then most people. In their world, science was wild; magic was limitless, lost cities were dime of the dozen and danger lurked around every corner. They mingled with daring aces, fearless explorers, reckless fighters, obsessive cultists, genius detectives, cunning spies, killer vigilantes, mad scientists and bizarre visitors from other realms. I was born into their world. I lived in it. Breathed it. Loved it.
As I said, I had no choice.
At first, I just accompanied my parents on their adventures. They weren’t too happy about it. If they had it their way, I would’ve stayed in my family’s compound under lock and key until I turned sixteen. But the thing was, even when I was under guard in the compound, I kept on getting kidnapped. By the time I turned six, my parents relented and decided to let me tag along. At least this way, they reasoned, they would be able to keep their eyes on me.
I tried to make myself useful. I watched the planes when they were away. I helped to maintain them. Once, I had to fight off a bunch of Dread Air Pirates all on my lonesome.
By the time I was eight, the papers were calling me Kenny the Kid Ace.
When I was ten, my parents let me join Boy Detectives. Basically, they were a club for kids who wanted to play adventurers. And, for the most part, they had credentials. Dirk Darrow was trained by an Oriental warrior-monk since birth. Larry the Future Kid had a time-traveling watch. Terry Warden was a young partner of the famous Captain Daring and a great inventor in his own right. Phil Norris and Jimmy Bolt had adventurers in their family. And Pavel Meshkov had this weird dragon-ghost creature that followed him around and did his bidding.
We stayed together for three years. Those were fun years. Exciting years. We solved mysteries, explored strange places around our city, fought all sorts of dastardly villains… Yes, we were naïve. Yes, we made mistakes. But in the end, I wouldn’t take back any of it. For better or for worse, we became friends. Even after the group dissolved, we still got together occasionally and helped each other out. Well, everyone except Larry. But that’s a whole other story I don’t want to get into right now.
I didn’t know it at the time, but this was when I met my arc-nemesis.
Have you ever heard of Qui Lin? The Mad Alchemist from the Orient? Of course you haven’t. But, let me tell you, in 1928, he was a big deal. See, his parents died from opium overdose. Ever since then, he was plotting to get back at all Westerners. His weapon of choice was dope. And it was no ordinary dope. Anyone who took it would up going so crazy they eventually killed themselves. Some say that the dope let those poor bastards see the Unseen Realms, where the Dark Gods dwell. Not that it mattered much. The point was, people where dying and it was up to adventurers to stop him.
Anyway, a big group of adventurers got together, pulled their resources together and eventually cornered that bastard in Chinatown, destroyed his dope and killed him. The Boy Detectives wanted to help, but by the time we got there, everything already wrapped up. All we saw was some oriental girl running away from the burning house. She was crying.
I let her pass.
I let her live.
And now, I have to kill her.
Why? Because she is my arch-nemesis, that’s why.
I know. I know. You are not supposed to do that sort of thing these days. Then again, these days, all the good villains are either dead or working for commies. The new villains are jokes. Killing them is a waste of perfectly good ammo.
But this one… no. I can’t let her live. I won’t let her live. Not after everything she’s done. Not after all the lives she’s ruined. She took everything I held dear. Killed everyone I ever cared about. I have to do it. I need to do it. It’s the only way.
She will die. And then, I will finally be able to let go.
You want to know? You really want to know? Aren’t worried it will offend your delicate sensibilities? I don’t want any lectures.
Alright, if you say so. But remember, I warned you.
It all started when I was sixteen years old….
--- To be continued---
The story you're about to read grew out of the plot bunny I got while reading Jess Nevin's long, extensive list of nearly every pulp character ever. Basically, many pulp heroes had archenemies. Those enemies were usually scheming scientists, master criminals, foreign spies, ect. They shared an intense bond of mutual hatred. They often hurt each other, abused each other and took each other's actions far too personally.
As a matter a fact, there seemed to be something oddly masochistic about them.
This story takes that idea to what I feel is it's logical conclusion.
ARCHNEMESIS
---- April 9, 1952---
My name is Warren Kenneth Carr. Most of you know me as Warren Kent. It’s hard to believe that, out of all the aliases I had over the years, this was the one that stuck.
Adventurers are not popular these days. Now that the World War II is over, everybody wants to forget about us. Maybe you think that if you ignore us, we will go away.
Who knows? Maybe you’re right.
I feel old. I am not even forty, and I feel old. I have seen too much. Fought too long. My body is bruised and beaten. I take pills to keep away the dreams. I want to let go. I should let go.
I can’t let go.
There are loose ends that need to be tied up. Things that need to be taken care of. Scores to settle. Then, I will finally be able to let go.
And you’ll have one less hero to ignore.
God, I need a drink.
I never had a choice. Not really. My parents were adventurers. My father was Maxwell Carr, the Lightning Ace. My mother was Molly Jones, better known as Molly the Sky-Belle. They met during the Great War. After the war ended, they kept adventuring, flying to distant lands, taking risks, challenging limitations, setting records, defying death and, of course, fighting all sorts of menaces.
They lived in a different world then most people. In their world, science was wild; magic was limitless, lost cities were dime of the dozen and danger lurked around every corner. They mingled with daring aces, fearless explorers, reckless fighters, obsessive cultists, genius detectives, cunning spies, killer vigilantes, mad scientists and bizarre visitors from other realms. I was born into their world. I lived in it. Breathed it. Loved it.
As I said, I had no choice.
At first, I just accompanied my parents on their adventures. They weren’t too happy about it. If they had it their way, I would’ve stayed in my family’s compound under lock and key until I turned sixteen. But the thing was, even when I was under guard in the compound, I kept on getting kidnapped. By the time I turned six, my parents relented and decided to let me tag along. At least this way, they reasoned, they would be able to keep their eyes on me.
I tried to make myself useful. I watched the planes when they were away. I helped to maintain them. Once, I had to fight off a bunch of Dread Air Pirates all on my lonesome.
By the time I was eight, the papers were calling me Kenny the Kid Ace.
When I was ten, my parents let me join Boy Detectives. Basically, they were a club for kids who wanted to play adventurers. And, for the most part, they had credentials. Dirk Darrow was trained by an Oriental warrior-monk since birth. Larry the Future Kid had a time-traveling watch. Terry Warden was a young partner of the famous Captain Daring and a great inventor in his own right. Phil Norris and Jimmy Bolt had adventurers in their family. And Pavel Meshkov had this weird dragon-ghost creature that followed him around and did his bidding.
We stayed together for three years. Those were fun years. Exciting years. We solved mysteries, explored strange places around our city, fought all sorts of dastardly villains… Yes, we were naïve. Yes, we made mistakes. But in the end, I wouldn’t take back any of it. For better or for worse, we became friends. Even after the group dissolved, we still got together occasionally and helped each other out. Well, everyone except Larry. But that’s a whole other story I don’t want to get into right now.
I didn’t know it at the time, but this was when I met my arc-nemesis.
Have you ever heard of Qui Lin? The Mad Alchemist from the Orient? Of course you haven’t. But, let me tell you, in 1928, he was a big deal. See, his parents died from opium overdose. Ever since then, he was plotting to get back at all Westerners. His weapon of choice was dope. And it was no ordinary dope. Anyone who took it would up going so crazy they eventually killed themselves. Some say that the dope let those poor bastards see the Unseen Realms, where the Dark Gods dwell. Not that it mattered much. The point was, people where dying and it was up to adventurers to stop him.
Anyway, a big group of adventurers got together, pulled their resources together and eventually cornered that bastard in Chinatown, destroyed his dope and killed him. The Boy Detectives wanted to help, but by the time we got there, everything already wrapped up. All we saw was some oriental girl running away from the burning house. She was crying.
I let her pass.
I let her live.
And now, I have to kill her.
Why? Because she is my arch-nemesis, that’s why.
I know. I know. You are not supposed to do that sort of thing these days. Then again, these days, all the good villains are either dead or working for commies. The new villains are jokes. Killing them is a waste of perfectly good ammo.
But this one… no. I can’t let her live. I won’t let her live. Not after everything she’s done. Not after all the lives she’s ruined. She took everything I held dear. Killed everyone I ever cared about. I have to do it. I need to do it. It’s the only way.
She will die. And then, I will finally be able to let go.
You want to know? You really want to know? Aren’t worried it will offend your delicate sensibilities? I don’t want any lectures.
Alright, if you say so. But remember, I warned you.
It all started when I was sixteen years old….
--- To be continued---