"The Other People In My Head"
Dec. 1st, 2022 06:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dochermes"The Other People In My Head"
1/22/1944
.
I.
Kelly O'Connor had long dreaded being unmasked when she was out as the Green Devil. Yet now it had happened. She was again tied securely to yet another solid wooden chair in another basement lit by a single naked bulb dangling from the ceiling. The two abductors had removed her motorcycle helmet with the short curved horns she had glued on it herself and then yanked off the silk kerchief she wore as a mask under that. Her wavy hair, of the true blazing red hue, dropped down to her shoulders. In a lovely oval face with a snub upturned nose and full lips, two bright green eyes narrowed in anger. She bit her tongue to stop from cursing.
The larger of the two men was a massive hulk four inches over six feet in height, with rounded muscles any blacksmith would envy. The short black hair was going white over the ears. That battered face likely bore little resemblance to how it appeared earlier in life. He was wearing a plain black suit without a tie, the top buttons undone.
Yet his voice was gentle and mellow, not at all the coarse tone his appearance might suggest. "I don't know about you, Shrink, but I don't recognize her at all."
The man addressed as Shrink nodded. He was much shorter and out of shape, with protuberant brown eyes and a nasal Hungarian-accented voice. He met Kelly's furious glare with a detached amusement. "Neither do I, Etruscan. But then, what are the odds we would know her? Unless her picture had appeared in the newspapers or magazines, the chance her face would be familiar was very small."
This lifted Kelly's spirits slightly. With the sublime confidence she had in her abilities and in her luck, she was entertaining no doubt that she would get out of this mess. There was almost no chance that these two would ever happen to run into her again out of all the millions of people in the New York City area.
Her riding boots, black trousers and dark green leather jacket with the white trident on its back had not been disarrayed. Aside from having been wrestled to the ground on the back street and carried down here to be tied up, she had not been abused. This didn't guarantee mistreatment wasn't coming up, of course. She had a definite feeling these two were working for someone higher up in the badlands.
"On the other hand, your unfortunate mug does ring a bell with me," she offered. "Mick Galway, right? Former heavyweight champion with quite a list of victories until you went up against Jumping Jeff Hewitt. Those newsreels between the cartoons and the B picture showcased you an awful lot."
"No, you got me wrong," scoffed the big man, folding arms across that massive chest. "I'm the Etruscan. I get by doing some strongarm stuff. You know, roughing up welshers who don't pay their debts, breaking a leg or a wrist of some store owner who doesn't want to pay for protection. When people hear the Etruscan is on his way, they change their minds and cooperate real fast."
Since these men did not know her, to her great relief, Kelly was not about to reveal that she was a crime reporter for the NEW YORK MESSENGER. This man absolutely was Michael 'Mick' Galway. She had scored a scoop on other papers when Mick had been arrested shortly after he had lost the title. The verdict was involuntary manslaughter with consideration of self-defense as a mitigating factor but she had found witnesses to the barroom brawl who had said otherwise. In her opinion, a drunk and belligerent Galway had struck a man with no provocation and killed him with one blow. Those meaty scarred paws were deadly against normal untrained men.
But there was no reason to mention any of this. Let him claim to be someone called the Etruscan if he liked, it didn't matter considering the situation. Instead, she forced a smile. "If you're hoping for a juicy ransom, good luck. Not only don't I have any money, I don't even KNOW anybody with any money."
The creepy little man addressed as Shrink allowed a smile to show on his face for a second. "Fortunately, we know some people who do possess considerable funds. There is one gentleman willing to part with five thousand dollars to have the Green Devil handed over to him. He resents the trouble you have caused."
"When trouble troubles me, I trouble trouble," Kelly laughed. If only these two would leave her alone for a minute, she was certain she could get loose. When first starting her vigilante career, she had sewn a single-edged razor blade in each cuff of her leather jacket. After many hours of practice, she was able to cut through bonds holding her wrists behind her. It cost a few nicks each time of course. But the way this joe and his palooka were standing, they would immediately spot any suspicious moves on her part.
"So I'm getting on some crime lord's nerves, huh? About time I was noticed. How did the Spinner of Webs know where to find me?"
"Never heard of any Spinner of Webs," the Etruscan replied.
"Oh, not him. Of course. I'm sure it's Baron Shogren, I've been wrecking his elaborate schemes for years now."
"No, it's not..." began the giant but he was shushed by the smaller man.
"Right now, I need to talk to Mick," Shrink said. Not getting any response, he repeated the phrase with variations over and over. "Hello, is Mick there? I'd like very much to speak with you, Mick. I need to talk to Mick. Mick, can I see you?"
To Kelly's horror, the big Etruscan slumped and bowed his head. His voice loosened, his eyes turned cloudy. His voice became that of a different person altogether. "Huh? What? Aw hell, Shrink, how long was I away this time?"
"Only a day," Shrink reassured him. "No harm done, Mick."
II.
"Maybe I really am drinking too much, Shrink. I ought to cut down. These blackouts can't be good."
"You're going to be fine, Mick. You know I'll watch out for you. But right now I need you to watch this girl while I make a few phone calls. The pharmacy down the street has a phone booth."
Mick bent over to meet the uneasy stare from Kelly. "We nabbed her, huh? So this is the Green Demon."
"DEVIL! Why does everyone get that wrong?" she yelled.
"Green Devil. Whatever. When do we get the moolah for turning her over, Shrink?"
"I've decided to hold out for more. If the buyer doesn't haggle over paying five grand, it means he's really willing to cough up ten. That means five thou for each of us."
"Yeah, that'll end well!" interrupted Kelly. "Crime lords get a little bent out of shape when you try to chisel them."
"Quiet, you." Shrink gave her a frosty glare. "I made sure this cellar is soundproof or we would have shoved a gag down your throat. Mick, I should be right back. The buyer might want to claim her right away, so don't start pulling her clothes off."
"Aw, that's the last thing on my mind. I feel terrible. Hurry back, Shrink." Mick dropped down onto the stool and leaned forward miserably.
After the smaller man hustled up rickety wooden steps and closed the door behind him, Kelly's mind was working furiously. Years as the Green Devil on the fringes of the Midnight War had opened her up to the occult and the inexplicable. What was this man's condition called? Schizophrenia, she thought. Split personality. He had been abused so badly as a child that his mind had splintered into any number of different personas. Or that was what she remembered from her reading anyway.
Maybe there was some way she could use his madness to her benefit?
Remembering the Shrink's words, she said, "Is there someone else I could talk to? Someone else?"
Not angry but deeply sorrowful, the big man looked up at her. "I'm NOT crazy. It's them. The other people in my head, they're the crazy ones. The things they say..."
"Please, I'd like to talk to someone else. Hello? Is there anybody in there? Can you hear me? I'd like to talk to you." Kelly had come up with many desperate improvised tricks to get out of dire situations but she felt this was one of the most feeble ruses ever.
And yet. Mick Galway clapped his palms over his face and groaned in pain deeper than any physical injury. His wide shoulders trembled visibly. When he finally raised his head, his expression was timid. In a tentative, high-pitched voice, he said, "Do I know you?"
Kelly wasn't at all sure this was a good idea but she went with it. "What's your name?"
"Sarah. Sarah Jean. I'm nine and a half."
"Hello, Sarah. My name is Kelly. Can you do me a favor? I want you to come over and untie my hands, okay?"
"I don't know how." The tiny voice coming from that brawny hulk was not amusing at all but rather disturbing.
"It's easy. You can do it. Come over here and help me out, Sarah."
"I'll try..." Mick rose to his feet, towering over the seated Kelly but taking daint little steps as he moved around behind her. She could feel her wrists moving as he fumbled with the knots.
"Good girl," Kelly said in as gentle a tone as she could manage. It seemed to take forever but it could only have been a few minutes at most before she was freed. Kelly swung around and smiled at the broad face watching her uncertainly. "You did a good job, Sarah."
"What are you doing here?" Mick asked in that incongruous voice.
"Give me a second," Kelly replied, picking up the green silk mask and adjusting it down over the upper half of her voice, then grabbing her helmet. She was more keyed up than ever, having no idea how long her abductor would stick with the little girl personality.
"I'm going outside to get something, Sarah. You'll be okay for a minute, right?"
Before the man could respond, the door at the top of the stairs slammed shut. Standing with a snub nosed revolver in one hand, Shrink called down, "I knew it! Everyone says the Green Devil is tricky."
III.
Strangely, Kelly O'Connor immediately felt more confident seeing a gun hauled out. Her weird talent of slapping bullets aside without being harmed was how she had survived her reckless career. If this fool took a shot at her, she was sure she could swat it back at him with a high probability of him getting the bullet he had sent. It was self defense turned offense.
But when he reached the bottom of the stairs, Shrink turned instead to glower at his accomplice. "Come on, what are you doing? How did she talk you into untying her?"
"Don't yell at me," came the childish voice, "I dint do anything wrong."
Shrink groaned, "Oh no, not Sarah. Not now. Sarah, go back. Go back in deep and stay there. "
Mick cringed in a way completely inappropriate for a man his size and build. "I don't know what you mean," the little girl voice whined.
"Come on, come on, get back and let the Etruscan out, There's no time for this foolishness."
Mick Galway straightened up to his full height and squared his shoulders. Once again his entire manner changed. Although his mouth curved in a grin, his eyebrows lowered in a remarkably sinister way. Watching this from ten feet away, Kelly was genuinely frightened for the first time.
"What now?" demanded Shrink. "Mick, is that you?"
"I am Fernando..."
Something in that heavily accented voice and menacing smile obviously alarmed Shrink. He extended his gun hand and barked, "I want Mick! Mick, can you hear me?"
From off to one side, the Green Devil laughed. "This is too perfect. Looks like you scrambled up this guy's brains once too often."
Whether she intended to or not, Kelly provided a distraction. Whoever Fernando might be was in control, the big man lunged across the intervening space and seized Shrink by the throat with both hands. Even muffled between their bodies, three gunshots exploded deafeningly loud in the closed space of that cellar.
Kelly would have been more than happy to have galloped up the stairs at that moment, but the two kidnapers were inconsiderately in the way. She had looked all around the cellar for anything that might serve as a weapon. There was the coal-burning furnace, the upright cylinder of the water heater and precious little else. She snatched up the stool just as Mick, now Fernando, threw the dying Shrink aside and swung around toward her.
"Whores need to die," he growled, pressing one hand to his chest but not stopping the bright red running over his fingers.
"Hey! I'm a nice Catholic girl," Kelly protested, "Father Spinelli gets bored taking my confession."
The big man coughed and blood came out of his mouth, but he ignored it to take a single threatening step forward.
"Sarah? If you're listening, now would be a really good time to come out," Kelly suggested. She brandished the stool with its legs toward Mick but didn't expect much protection from it. The close quarters of the cellar worked against her. The Green Devil invariably fought opponents much bigger and heavier than she was. Agility, quick thinking and trickery were her strong points.
Underscoring her thoughts, a meaty hand seized one leg of the stool and she couldn't keep a grip on it without being pulled too close. Kelly let go and leaped up to roll across the table and get its expanse between her and the killer.
"Sarah, please! Come on out, will you?" she called. "Sarah, can you hear me?"
To Kelly's relief, Mick coughed again, sagged forward and dropped to his hands and knees before rolling over onto his back. With three bullets in his torso, he seemed done for. Time to make tracks, she thought, before the boys in blue came stomping in to see what those gunshots were all about. The Green Devil had been spotted at too many crime scenes to escape being asked many uncomfortable questions.
But she hesitated when she heard that little girl again, saying, "Lady..?"
Kelly knew she should run up the stairs and out in the winter night. That was not a real child calling her, it was only a fragmented personality surfacing in the damaged mind of a madman. Getting away before the cops caught her with two fresh corpses was the only intelligent thing to do.
She couldn't help herself. Kelly went over and knelt next to that huge man, well within reach if the powerful hands reached up for her. "Sarah?"
"I'm scared. It's so cold in here. Am I gonna die?" came the weak whisper.
"Oh, honey..." Kelly began but stopped as she recognized the presence of death. Mick Galway's eyes were staring straight at her but there was nothing going on behind them. Slowly getting to her feet, the Green Devil was confused by how upset she was. Perhaps she had been fooling herself into thinking she had become tough and hard-boiled. Perhaps she would always have a big soft heart. She was glad.
12/3/2022
1/22/1944
.
I.
Kelly O'Connor had long dreaded being unmasked when she was out as the Green Devil. Yet now it had happened. She was again tied securely to yet another solid wooden chair in another basement lit by a single naked bulb dangling from the ceiling. The two abductors had removed her motorcycle helmet with the short curved horns she had glued on it herself and then yanked off the silk kerchief she wore as a mask under that. Her wavy hair, of the true blazing red hue, dropped down to her shoulders. In a lovely oval face with a snub upturned nose and full lips, two bright green eyes narrowed in anger. She bit her tongue to stop from cursing.
The larger of the two men was a massive hulk four inches over six feet in height, with rounded muscles any blacksmith would envy. The short black hair was going white over the ears. That battered face likely bore little resemblance to how it appeared earlier in life. He was wearing a plain black suit without a tie, the top buttons undone.
Yet his voice was gentle and mellow, not at all the coarse tone his appearance might suggest. "I don't know about you, Shrink, but I don't recognize her at all."
The man addressed as Shrink nodded. He was much shorter and out of shape, with protuberant brown eyes and a nasal Hungarian-accented voice. He met Kelly's furious glare with a detached amusement. "Neither do I, Etruscan. But then, what are the odds we would know her? Unless her picture had appeared in the newspapers or magazines, the chance her face would be familiar was very small."
This lifted Kelly's spirits slightly. With the sublime confidence she had in her abilities and in her luck, she was entertaining no doubt that she would get out of this mess. There was almost no chance that these two would ever happen to run into her again out of all the millions of people in the New York City area.
Her riding boots, black trousers and dark green leather jacket with the white trident on its back had not been disarrayed. Aside from having been wrestled to the ground on the back street and carried down here to be tied up, she had not been abused. This didn't guarantee mistreatment wasn't coming up, of course. She had a definite feeling these two were working for someone higher up in the badlands.
"On the other hand, your unfortunate mug does ring a bell with me," she offered. "Mick Galway, right? Former heavyweight champion with quite a list of victories until you went up against Jumping Jeff Hewitt. Those newsreels between the cartoons and the B picture showcased you an awful lot."
"No, you got me wrong," scoffed the big man, folding arms across that massive chest. "I'm the Etruscan. I get by doing some strongarm stuff. You know, roughing up welshers who don't pay their debts, breaking a leg or a wrist of some store owner who doesn't want to pay for protection. When people hear the Etruscan is on his way, they change their minds and cooperate real fast."
Since these men did not know her, to her great relief, Kelly was not about to reveal that she was a crime reporter for the NEW YORK MESSENGER. This man absolutely was Michael 'Mick' Galway. She had scored a scoop on other papers when Mick had been arrested shortly after he had lost the title. The verdict was involuntary manslaughter with consideration of self-defense as a mitigating factor but she had found witnesses to the barroom brawl who had said otherwise. In her opinion, a drunk and belligerent Galway had struck a man with no provocation and killed him with one blow. Those meaty scarred paws were deadly against normal untrained men.
But there was no reason to mention any of this. Let him claim to be someone called the Etruscan if he liked, it didn't matter considering the situation. Instead, she forced a smile. "If you're hoping for a juicy ransom, good luck. Not only don't I have any money, I don't even KNOW anybody with any money."
The creepy little man addressed as Shrink allowed a smile to show on his face for a second. "Fortunately, we know some people who do possess considerable funds. There is one gentleman willing to part with five thousand dollars to have the Green Devil handed over to him. He resents the trouble you have caused."
"When trouble troubles me, I trouble trouble," Kelly laughed. If only these two would leave her alone for a minute, she was certain she could get loose. When first starting her vigilante career, she had sewn a single-edged razor blade in each cuff of her leather jacket. After many hours of practice, she was able to cut through bonds holding her wrists behind her. It cost a few nicks each time of course. But the way this joe and his palooka were standing, they would immediately spot any suspicious moves on her part.
"So I'm getting on some crime lord's nerves, huh? About time I was noticed. How did the Spinner of Webs know where to find me?"
"Never heard of any Spinner of Webs," the Etruscan replied.
"Oh, not him. Of course. I'm sure it's Baron Shogren, I've been wrecking his elaborate schemes for years now."
"No, it's not..." began the giant but he was shushed by the smaller man.
"Right now, I need to talk to Mick," Shrink said. Not getting any response, he repeated the phrase with variations over and over. "Hello, is Mick there? I'd like very much to speak with you, Mick. I need to talk to Mick. Mick, can I see you?"
To Kelly's horror, the big Etruscan slumped and bowed his head. His voice loosened, his eyes turned cloudy. His voice became that of a different person altogether. "Huh? What? Aw hell, Shrink, how long was I away this time?"
"Only a day," Shrink reassured him. "No harm done, Mick."
II.
"Maybe I really am drinking too much, Shrink. I ought to cut down. These blackouts can't be good."
"You're going to be fine, Mick. You know I'll watch out for you. But right now I need you to watch this girl while I make a few phone calls. The pharmacy down the street has a phone booth."
Mick bent over to meet the uneasy stare from Kelly. "We nabbed her, huh? So this is the Green Demon."
"DEVIL! Why does everyone get that wrong?" she yelled.
"Green Devil. Whatever. When do we get the moolah for turning her over, Shrink?"
"I've decided to hold out for more. If the buyer doesn't haggle over paying five grand, it means he's really willing to cough up ten. That means five thou for each of us."
"Yeah, that'll end well!" interrupted Kelly. "Crime lords get a little bent out of shape when you try to chisel them."
"Quiet, you." Shrink gave her a frosty glare. "I made sure this cellar is soundproof or we would have shoved a gag down your throat. Mick, I should be right back. The buyer might want to claim her right away, so don't start pulling her clothes off."
"Aw, that's the last thing on my mind. I feel terrible. Hurry back, Shrink." Mick dropped down onto the stool and leaned forward miserably.
After the smaller man hustled up rickety wooden steps and closed the door behind him, Kelly's mind was working furiously. Years as the Green Devil on the fringes of the Midnight War had opened her up to the occult and the inexplicable. What was this man's condition called? Schizophrenia, she thought. Split personality. He had been abused so badly as a child that his mind had splintered into any number of different personas. Or that was what she remembered from her reading anyway.
Maybe there was some way she could use his madness to her benefit?
Remembering the Shrink's words, she said, "Is there someone else I could talk to? Someone else?"
Not angry but deeply sorrowful, the big man looked up at her. "I'm NOT crazy. It's them. The other people in my head, they're the crazy ones. The things they say..."
"Please, I'd like to talk to someone else. Hello? Is there anybody in there? Can you hear me? I'd like to talk to you." Kelly had come up with many desperate improvised tricks to get out of dire situations but she felt this was one of the most feeble ruses ever.
And yet. Mick Galway clapped his palms over his face and groaned in pain deeper than any physical injury. His wide shoulders trembled visibly. When he finally raised his head, his expression was timid. In a tentative, high-pitched voice, he said, "Do I know you?"
Kelly wasn't at all sure this was a good idea but she went with it. "What's your name?"
"Sarah. Sarah Jean. I'm nine and a half."
"Hello, Sarah. My name is Kelly. Can you do me a favor? I want you to come over and untie my hands, okay?"
"I don't know how." The tiny voice coming from that brawny hulk was not amusing at all but rather disturbing.
"It's easy. You can do it. Come over here and help me out, Sarah."
"I'll try..." Mick rose to his feet, towering over the seated Kelly but taking daint little steps as he moved around behind her. She could feel her wrists moving as he fumbled with the knots.
"Good girl," Kelly said in as gentle a tone as she could manage. It seemed to take forever but it could only have been a few minutes at most before she was freed. Kelly swung around and smiled at the broad face watching her uncertainly. "You did a good job, Sarah."
"What are you doing here?" Mick asked in that incongruous voice.
"Give me a second," Kelly replied, picking up the green silk mask and adjusting it down over the upper half of her voice, then grabbing her helmet. She was more keyed up than ever, having no idea how long her abductor would stick with the little girl personality.
"I'm going outside to get something, Sarah. You'll be okay for a minute, right?"
Before the man could respond, the door at the top of the stairs slammed shut. Standing with a snub nosed revolver in one hand, Shrink called down, "I knew it! Everyone says the Green Devil is tricky."
III.
Strangely, Kelly O'Connor immediately felt more confident seeing a gun hauled out. Her weird talent of slapping bullets aside without being harmed was how she had survived her reckless career. If this fool took a shot at her, she was sure she could swat it back at him with a high probability of him getting the bullet he had sent. It was self defense turned offense.
But when he reached the bottom of the stairs, Shrink turned instead to glower at his accomplice. "Come on, what are you doing? How did she talk you into untying her?"
"Don't yell at me," came the childish voice, "I dint do anything wrong."
Shrink groaned, "Oh no, not Sarah. Not now. Sarah, go back. Go back in deep and stay there. "
Mick cringed in a way completely inappropriate for a man his size and build. "I don't know what you mean," the little girl voice whined.
"Come on, come on, get back and let the Etruscan out, There's no time for this foolishness."
Mick Galway straightened up to his full height and squared his shoulders. Once again his entire manner changed. Although his mouth curved in a grin, his eyebrows lowered in a remarkably sinister way. Watching this from ten feet away, Kelly was genuinely frightened for the first time.
"What now?" demanded Shrink. "Mick, is that you?"
"I am Fernando..."
Something in that heavily accented voice and menacing smile obviously alarmed Shrink. He extended his gun hand and barked, "I want Mick! Mick, can you hear me?"
From off to one side, the Green Devil laughed. "This is too perfect. Looks like you scrambled up this guy's brains once too often."
Whether she intended to or not, Kelly provided a distraction. Whoever Fernando might be was in control, the big man lunged across the intervening space and seized Shrink by the throat with both hands. Even muffled between their bodies, three gunshots exploded deafeningly loud in the closed space of that cellar.
Kelly would have been more than happy to have galloped up the stairs at that moment, but the two kidnapers were inconsiderately in the way. She had looked all around the cellar for anything that might serve as a weapon. There was the coal-burning furnace, the upright cylinder of the water heater and precious little else. She snatched up the stool just as Mick, now Fernando, threw the dying Shrink aside and swung around toward her.
"Whores need to die," he growled, pressing one hand to his chest but not stopping the bright red running over his fingers.
"Hey! I'm a nice Catholic girl," Kelly protested, "Father Spinelli gets bored taking my confession."
The big man coughed and blood came out of his mouth, but he ignored it to take a single threatening step forward.
"Sarah? If you're listening, now would be a really good time to come out," Kelly suggested. She brandished the stool with its legs toward Mick but didn't expect much protection from it. The close quarters of the cellar worked against her. The Green Devil invariably fought opponents much bigger and heavier than she was. Agility, quick thinking and trickery were her strong points.
Underscoring her thoughts, a meaty hand seized one leg of the stool and she couldn't keep a grip on it without being pulled too close. Kelly let go and leaped up to roll across the table and get its expanse between her and the killer.
"Sarah, please! Come on out, will you?" she called. "Sarah, can you hear me?"
To Kelly's relief, Mick coughed again, sagged forward and dropped to his hands and knees before rolling over onto his back. With three bullets in his torso, he seemed done for. Time to make tracks, she thought, before the boys in blue came stomping in to see what those gunshots were all about. The Green Devil had been spotted at too many crime scenes to escape being asked many uncomfortable questions.
But she hesitated when she heard that little girl again, saying, "Lady..?"
Kelly knew she should run up the stairs and out in the winter night. That was not a real child calling her, it was only a fragmented personality surfacing in the damaged mind of a madman. Getting away before the cops caught her with two fresh corpses was the only intelligent thing to do.
She couldn't help herself. Kelly went over and knelt next to that huge man, well within reach if the powerful hands reached up for her. "Sarah?"
"I'm scared. It's so cold in here. Am I gonna die?" came the weak whisper.
"Oh, honey..." Kelly began but stopped as she recognized the presence of death. Mick Galway's eyes were staring straight at her but there was nothing going on behind them. Slowly getting to her feet, the Green Devil was confused by how upset she was. Perhaps she had been fooling herself into thinking she had become tough and hard-boiled. Perhaps she would always have a big soft heart. She was glad.
12/3/2022
