Adventures Into Terror #13: "The Man Who Talked To Rats!"

Adventures Into Terror #13
"The Man Who Talked To Rats!"
December, 1952

Story: Unknown
Art: Manny Stallman

While the city sleeps, one restless soul wanders along the waterfront...
His thoughts are on how he could possibly get his hands on the
inheritance.  Paul Crandall's train of thought is interrupted when he
hears a voice coming from the alley...  The rats have come from faraway,
just to learn that there are as many cats in the city.  As the full moon
hovers above him, Crandall can only stare, as the baldheaded man in the
green tunic smiles at his friends.

Paul Crandall continues to watch, fascinated and repulsed by this strange
sight.  The rats are hanging on the strange man's every word, but their
attention soon shifts towards the uninvited guest standing in the
alleyway.  The passerby is about to get devoured by the rats, for having
witnessed their meeting with their friend.

The baldheaded man in the green tunic will do nothing, but watch as his
friends have their fun with the unexpected guest.  Since the deed will be
done by the rats, it will not be seen as murder.  Crandall sees the
hunger in their eyes, as they close in on him, and wait for their friend
to give the word.  In desperation, he tries to strike up a business deal
for his own life.  He tells the strange man about his rich uncle, how if
the rats are sent to kill him, Crandall will be able to pay him any fee
he wishes.

Find this to be a fair deal, the baldheaded man in the green tunic asks
to see where Paul Crandall's uncle lives.  After wiping the damp sweat
from his brow, the ambitious nephew takes him to the estate.  The bedroom
is in the third room from the left on the second floor, and the uncle is
the sole occupant.  The strange man in the green tunic reminds Paul
Crandall that they've agreed on any fee.  All he wants is his inheritance
and the estate.  They will meet later after the deed is done.  Now, the
man who talks to rats is alone on the estate grounds...  His friends know
what they must do.  At the bidding of their friend... the hairy vermin
make their way through the windows.  Minutes pass, and the night's
silence is broken by the screams of an elderly man... EEEYAAAAAEEEEE

Two weeks later, the uncle is buried, and Paul Crandall receives his
inheritance.  The estate and three million dollars are now his alone.  He
considers himself lucky to have run into the guy in the alley.  If he
hadn't, Paul would still be broke.  KNOCK!  KNOCK!  Turning from the fire
place, he heads to the door, and opens it.  The man who talks to rats has
come for his fee.  Since he has done his part, Crandall is eager to pay
for the deed.  Not interested in money or valuables or a mansion... all
the baldheaded man in the green tunic wants is... food for his friends!
EEEYEEEAAAA  The rats leap in droves towards their next living repast.

Paul Crandall wanted a way to get out of the rat race, but he went down a
blind alley, instead.

As drawn by the artist, Crandall resembles Bela Lugosi, while the
baldheaded man in the green tunic looks like Boris Karloff.

The nephew gets away from a rat strike by striking up a bargain with
their friend, but strikes out in the end.

When Paul Crandall asks who is at his door, his visitor identifies
himself as "the man who talks to rats."

This may not seem as strange as being "the man who talks to ants" or the
man who talks to horses."

Still, I don't see this guy joining up with any groups... with the
possible exception of the Rat Patrol.

Steve Chung
"The Man Who Writes To Reviews!"

Adventures Into Terror #13: "The Visitor"

Adventures Into Terror #13
"The Visitor"
December, 1952

Story: Unknown
Art: Tony DiPreta(?)

It was just another day in the midwestern town of Pageville.  The
citizens went about their daily routine... at home and at work.  On this
particular day in the town of Pageville, an extraordinary thing had
occurred, but no one had seen it coming.  A mist descending upon the
streets.

Even in the heart of the small town, who would have noticed the presence
of another, one who had stepped forward from the mist?  If you were a
gangster who was about to get rid of a rival, you might.  As you wait in
the alley, a shape begins to form, and you see that Nemo has found you
first.  If the thug had waited instead of fleeing for his life, he would
have seen the familiar shape melt, and once again become mist.  If you
were a businessman about to commit fraud, you might notice.  With a plane
ticket to Mexico and the stolen profits from the business, you could
leave your partner holding the bag.

Who would heed the shape passing through the open window?  A shape which
steps forward from the mist, and you recognize the familiar form as
Andrew.  Not expecting to be caught in the act, you take an involuntary
step backwards, crashing through breaking glass, and screaming as the
mist passes through you.  Who else would notice such a thing?  If you
were a mugger trying to rob a blind man, Mullvaney the cop would be there
right beside you.  If you were one of the downtrodden, a passing mist
might warm you in body and soul.  If you were one who had lived in the
dark corners of town, you might wonder how a mist could bring sunshine to
your windowsill.

If you had thought that this mist was on the side of good, you'd be
correct.  It would continue on its way, while a husband continues to toil
past his bedtime.  His doctor had told him to ease up on the work, but
they could possibly understand what he was up to.  He was on the edge of
discovery, one which needed only a little more research, and which would
prove that people were only a small part of a greater plan.  The
architects of such a scheme were unseen to human eyes, but John is
determined to find them.  They have been watching him and all of
humanity, and do not wish to be found.  John is going to prove it, even
if his wife won't have him.  There just a little more work left to do.
Before she turns in, Ann closes the window, but not before the mist
enters the room.

Ann believes that her husband should leave well enough alone, but John is
confident that he knows more about such things.  He was now alone.
Alone..?  A sudden movement out of the corner of his eye, and John is now
face-to-face with what he had been looking for.  The wife rises from bed
at the sound of her husband's voice calling out in triumph.  She finds
him at his desk, staring at an unseen visitor, and muttering the same
phrase over and over... "I was right!  I was right!"  John's mind was
gone, vanishing at the same moment as the mist's departure, and this
was... THE END.

This story was reprinted in Giant-Size Werewolf By Night #3 (January,
1975).

The Visitor is a vague humanoid shape composed entirely of mist.

Those who see the Visitor visualize their greatest wishes or their
darkest fears.

The very young and very old are the recipients of unique gifts from the
visitor, while the others receive only what their own actions have sown.

John, the husband with insomnia and bulging eyes resembles a young Jack
Kirby in appearance.

Even between the covers of a book, the seeker can find little solace,
especially when the object of his quest has come for him.

Steve Chung
"The Review"