CHAPTER 2
Throwing himself bodily upon his bed, Brad closed his eyes in frustration. What was wrong with him? How could he have let some creep in a dated costume freak him out? The Skysurfer's mortal enemy, Cybron, was more of a visual and physical threat than the man in the theater. Half human and half robot, Cybron and his bio-borgs were walking weapons, each capable of destruction on their own accord. He never had a problem taking any of them on, or anybody else for that matter.
He had suffered through a multitude of battle scars after many fights with Cybron and his cronies, so why should some bruises he received from a twisted movie fan affect him? What was so different about this experience? The young Skysurfer sighed to himself.
If he was truly honest, he couldn't blame the painful contusions for his unease. It all boiled down to the strange man's eyes and voice, and how they seemed to overtake his mind and body so completely. Was this guy some sort of hypnotist? By looking into those eyes long enough, did he unwittingly become prey to the power of suggestion?
'Yeah, maybe he was a hypnotist,' Brad thought to himself, 'and it took me off guard.' He allowed that thought to play over and over in his mind until the tense muscles throughout his body relaxed.
A soft knock to his door caused the young Skysurfer to bolt upright in his bed. Glancing at his digital clock on a night stand beside him, Brad realized he had fallen asleep for a couple of hours. He rarely took naps....
"Brad, it's Jack," the lead Skysurfer called out.
Opening the door to his room slightly, the younger man eyed Sky One warily. "I'm fine," he mumbled, not wanting to rehash what had happened back in the computer room.
The blonde team leader shook his head. "No you're not, but we'll discuss that later. I'm here to find out what's up with Mickey."
"What?" Brad backed away from the doorway and allowed Jack access to his room.
"I asked Mickey to take some of the stores from the list, and he actually told me he couldn't. He had to be at that movie theater tomorrow."
The younger Skysurfer shrugged. "I guess that freak palace is showing two movies that haven't been seen in over fifty years. Mickey's been practically drooling at the mouth to see them," he replied, deliberately leaving out the part about his friend being asked to play Captain Spartan.
"That's it?" Jack didn't buy the excuse. "Mickey doesn't ever turn down a chance to mess with Cybron, but he refuses this time because of some old movies?"
"He's a really big Captain Spartan nut," Brad tried to explain without giving too much away. Why was he even bothering to keep Mickey's movie offer a secret? "Who knows when they'll show those movies again...."
"He's a member of this team," Jack interrupted, "and Mickey can always get those movies on DVD."
"None of Mr. Wessell's movies are available in DVD or anything."
"Mr. Wessell?"
"The owner of the theater," Brad responded without thinking. "He also was the maker of the Captain Spartan movies."
"How do you know all that? Have you and Mickey met him?"
"No..., I haven't," Brad faltered.
"But Mickey has?" Taking Brad's silence as a yes, the head Skysurfer frowned. "The name Wessell was on the list. It could be a coincidence, but I want you and Mickey to check things out at the theater, just in case."
Brad tried to control the instant panic inside him at the mention of going back inside the old movie palace. "I-I thought you didn't want me investigating...."
Jack's face softened as he addressed his younger teammate. "You need to face whatever that lunatic fan said or did. It'll keep haunting you until you deal with it." Seeing Brad about to protest, the blonde raised up a hand in a bid for quiet. "Don't leave Mickey's side for nothing. I'm not suggesting you can't take care of yourself, but I want Mickey's back watched too. I don't think that goon will mess with both of you."
"You're right," Brad admitted with a resigned sigh. He couldn't stand by and allow that sicko to maybe hurt his best friend, but why did he feel like he had just agreed to stand in front of a firing squad? "I'll go."
"If there's any sign of trouble, Mickey can contact me, but I want you to head straight back to base. Don't take any chances."
"Yeah, sure," Brad agreed with a monotone voice. Even Jack was now treating him like some helpless victim.
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Tucking the remainder of his midnight blue shirt into his jeans, Brad noticed Mickey hesitating outside the hallway. Throwing his best friend a dirty look, he returned to his dressing, rolling up the long sleeves a couple of inches. The shirt would hide the hideous bruises on his upper arms.
"You okay with going with me today?" Mickey asked, noting the scowl on Brad's face.
Brad continued to fiddle with his shirt, buttoning it up halfway, to show a little of the white tank top he wore underneath.
"Aw, c'mon! Don't go all silent movie on me here...," the youngest Skysurfer smirked at his clever reference. "Besides, I want my best bud by me when we talk to Mr. Wessell."
"Did Jack tell you about a Wessell being on the list?" Brad finally spoke as he looked up at his teammate.
Mickey whiffed his hand through the air in a dismissive manner. "Mr. Wessell's harmless...I think Jack's overreacting. It's gotta be some other person."
"Maybe Mr. Wessell is buying up gadgets to use in his 'remakes', and destroy the world through stupidity."
"Oh, ha ha ha," Mickey shot back. "Hurry it up. I want to grab something to eat at Whirlee's before we meet Mr. Wessell. And I'll even buy!"
"That's the least you can do, cause you owe me big time for making me sit through two of those movies."
"You'll get a good nap in," Mickey said with a big grin, "while I keep an eye out for any trouble."
"You'll be too busy watching the screen when I disappear," Brad replied with little humor in his voice. "Lets get this over with."
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Mickey tapped gently on the small pane of glass on the upper portion of the door. "This is where Mr. Wessell said he lived. Its twelve o'clock...wonder where he is?" Glancing next door, he nudged Brad and pointed in that direction. "Maybe he's over at the theater instead."
"Swell," Brad muttered under his breath. "Might as well have the psycho attack me now, and get it all over with right away."
"Cut it out, Brad. Ain't nothing gonna happen while I'm around."
Sighing dramatically, Brad clasped his hands together and placed them under his chin. "Oh, how could I ever doubt you, great hero type!"
"You keep that up, I'll let anyone take off with you," Mickey mumbled in response. He peered through the big theater doors and shook his head. "Doesn't seem to be here either. Better go back to Mr. Wessell's place and try again."
"Fine by me." Taking a quick glance back towards the theater, Brad froze in his tracks as he saw someone staring back at him. "Mickey! Its him!"
"Chill out dude," Mickey cried out as he hurried to his friend's side. "There's no one there."
"Yes...there...was...," Brad said through gritted teeth.
"Who's there, young man?" A voice asked behind the Skysurfers.
"A-augh!" Brad yelled in surprise as he felt a boney hand clamp onto his shoulder.
Mickey started laughing. "Dude, its only Mr. Wessell."
"I didn't mean to scare you," the elderly, slender man said in a gentle tone as if speaking to a child.
"You just caught me by surprise, that's all," Brad offered weakly, taking a few steps away from the man.
Mr. Wessell gave a knowing smile and chuckled. "The true surprise is waiting inside the theater. If you'd both be so kind as to follow me..." Ushering the two Skysurfers inside, Mr. Wessell instantly locked the doors behind them.
"Why are you locking the doors?" Brad asked with more calm than he felt. Wasn't the locking of doors by a strange man in an old building one of horror movie's no-no's?
"To keep other people out, of course," Mr. Wessell replied with a wink. "I have something very special to show you boys, and I don't want any interruptions. Why are you so jumpy? Brad, isn't it?"
"Some dude dressed up like the villain from "Witness to the Will" threatened him yesterday," Mickey supplied, ignoring the deadly glare his teammate was giving him.
"Ah yes..., Harry Mertz. He was my best movie villain. Even gave the other actors he worked with the chills. Sadly they don't make artisans like that anymore," Mr. Wessell said wistfully. He led the two young men to a side door off of the lobby, and unlocked it. "This is an area the public has never seen, but since Mickey is such a big fan, I had to show it to you."
Mr. Wessell beamed with pride as he watched Mickey's face light up with delight. Even Brad was overwhelmed by what he saw. The small room was crammed with props and memorabilia from the various movies the director had made over the years, all preserved in pristine condition.
"Whoa! Mr. Wessell, this is so awesome!" Mickey gushed. "Its like a Captain Spartan shrine!"
The director laughed. "I guess you could call it that. And please, call me Wes. I knew you'd like this place, Mickey. I have every prop we ever used on those films right here."
"You sure do! Here's Captain Spartan's stun gun, Rigby's badge communicator, and this is Captain Spartan's hat and sunglasses! Totally far out!"
"That's him!" Brad cried out from across the room, gesturing to a movie poster framed on the wall. "That's the psycho creep who threatened me!" The brunette Skysurfer couldn't suppress the cold chill that ran down his spine. "The clothes...the eyes...everything is exactly the same...."
"That's Harry Mertz," Mr. Wessell answered, walking over to Brad. "You couldn't have seen him, he's been dead for over twenty years."
"I did see him," Brad insisted. "I'll never forget those eyes. Even in this poster they seem to be staring straight into me."
"What an odd coincidence that this certain movie should excite you so." The elderly man pointed to the right side of the poster. "Take a good look at the young man who was also in this film."
"Man, that dude looks almost exactly like ya, Brad!" Mickey exclaimed. "The same hair color, build, and age. I'll give you the edge in the looks department. He looks kinda wussy."
"Gee....thanks," Brad muttered, unable to take his eyes off of his look-a-like on the poster. "I take it this was the one the villain hated?"
Mr. Wessell nodded. "Yes, he was the only male I purposely used in a victim role before. Out of all my films, this movie was the one that people remembered the most."
"Isn't Rigby a victim role too?"
"Oh no, he's a sidekick."
'Coulda fooled me,' Brad thought to himself.
"You know, Brad...you would make a great...no, improved replacement for the updating of that movie," Mr. Wessell suggested eagerly, clasping the young man by the shoulders. "I couldn't have anyone else but you!"
"No way!" Brad said emphatically, pulling himself out of the director's grasp. "I had enough of that creep in the bathroom yesterday, thank you."
"There's no need to overreact," Mr. Wessell said gently, "we're only discussing a movie, with actors, made years ago...."
"The man I met yesterday wasn't 'acting', he really meant what he said!"
"To hear you talk, I'd swear you did see Harry Mertz, but how can that be?"
"I didn't believe him at first," Mickey chimed in, "but when he described the man, and repeated what he said from the movie, I knew he saw something. Then there's the wicked looking bruises the dude gave him...."
"Bruises?"
"Nothing to worry over," Brad interrupted, elbowing his teammate in the ribs to shut up.
Mr. Wessell turned pale at the information, but quickly recovered. "Enough on this subject. The reason I invited you boys here is to ask you about something special." With his eyes shining with excitement, he continued. "I've been thinking a lot lately of redoing some of my films, to make them more acceptable to a younger audience so to speak. When I first saw Mickey enter my theater, I knew instantly he'd make the perfect, modern day Captain Spartan! And since you two are friends, Brad could play...."
"The victim role of Rigby?" Brad asked with a tinge of disgust in his voice.
"Now, don't look at it in that sense. Every hero needs someone to rescue. Who better than the best friend? Your features are less rugged than Mickey's and your body is built smaller. Its nothing personal."
"Who says that Mickey's type is the only ones who can play the hero?"
"I say," Wessell replied somewhat forcefully, not liking his judgement being questioned. "They are my pictures, my brain child, and I dictate who plays what."
"Well, dictate to someone else," Brad shot back. "We aren't doing any remakes of your movies."
"What Brad means is we can't," Mickey inserted, placing a hand upon his irritated teammate's shoulder. "We can't take the time off to properly do a film for you."
Wessell swept his arms in front of him in a dramatic fashion. "I have the answer to both our dilemmas. In my projection booth, I have an invention that will make virtual reality a thing of the past."
"Does it make you feel like you're in a movie?" Mickey asked in awe.
"Better. It actually puts you 'inside' one of my movies. You become the star!"
"Wait a minute. Are you saying that you can take someone and have them replace the original actor in an already made movie?" Brad questioned, an uneasy feeling coming over him.
"Oh yes, that is indeed what I am saying. I can also create totally new roles or situations. Everything you see, hear, taste, or touch will be as real as anything here." The old film maker smiled as he watched the two Skysurfers' incredulous expressions. "Why, we could make a full length feature in a couple of hours this way. Time isn't an issue anymore."
"Wow! I gotta see this!" Mickey cried out enthusiastically.
"Mickey," Brad said slowly, "I don't –"
"What could be the harm, lad?" Mr. Wessell interrupted, his voice dripping with sweetness. "Please just humor an old man by looking at his invention."
"Alright, we can look at your invention," Brad conceded, glancing purposely in Mickey's direction. "But that's all we're going to do." Maybe this machine was the answer to all the questions about those electronic components that they were investigating.
Climbing up several flights of stairs, Wessell led the two younger men to a small, dimly lit room. In the middle was a large, old fashioned movie projector with a computer keyboard attached to the back of it.
"Here it is!" Wessell exclaimed with a grand gesture. "I know it doesn't look like much, but I deliberately designed it that way. Didn't want people to take much notice of it, and then get too curious."
"How does it work?" Mickey asked, barely able to hide his excitement.
"Well, I already have all my original scripts inside the computer. I place a particular movie I want to remake onto the projector. After that is done, I punch in what I want to see different in the picture, and as the film plays, the 'changes' are recorded through my computer. When the show ends, I have a new movie."
"I see your computer board," Brad wondered aloud, "but where is the actual computer located?"
"The computer is located inside the projector," Wessell explained, opening up a small compartment on the side of the machine. "All the information is stored in here, as well as the mechanism that transfers human molecules onto the film."
"An actual person is transferred to the film?" Brad shook his chestnut brown mane in disbelief. "There's no way that can work! This sounds more like something you'd make a movie about...y'know...science fiction."
"Ah, but seeing is believing," the older man said coyly, lifting a remote control into the air. "What I have in my hands is the means of getting into the picture. Press the power button, and it transports you inside the film itself. The other buttons control what you want to happen. I'm going to press the power button, and when I disappear, I want you to watch the big screen. That will explain best how my machine works."
Seconds after Mr. Wessell pressed the power button, he was gone in a flash of light, with the projector rolling like he said it would. Mickey and Brad rushed to the small window that overlooked the screening area, and watched the big screen as instructed. Their mouths fell open in unison when they saw the image of the film maker appear.
"T-that's the opening scene to "Kill or Forget It"!" Mickey could barely spit out. "He's actually in the movie!"
"I-I can't believe what I'm seeing," Brad said almost inaudibly. "How can this happen?"
"How do we do what we do?" Mickey threw in, the excitement growing in his voice. "People would find how we transform into Skysurfers hard to believe too." He smacked his friend on the back, and pointed to the screen. "Look! Here comes one of the main characters of the film, and he's talking to Wes like he belongs in the show!"
On the screen, Mr. Wessell smiled, and turned to face the theater seats. "Is this enough proof for you, boys? To come back, all I do is press the 'power' button again, and...." An instant later, the older gentleman was standing in front of the two Skysurfers as if he never left.
"Mr. Wessell, I'm sorry I doubted you," Brad offered. "That was truly amazing!"
"Thank you, Brad. I've been working on this for quite some time. As a matter of fact, I've only finished my invention about a week ago. Would you two like to try it out for yourselves?"
"Yeah!" Mickey shouted, nearly leaping up into the air. "Can I play Captain Spartan?"
Chucking, Mr. Wessell patted Mickey on the shoulder. "Of course you can! I haven't met anyone more perfect for that role other than the man who originally played him. How about you, Brad?"
"Thanks, but no thanks," Brad replied with a hint of sarcasm. "Playing some sicko's favorite pick-on isn't my idea of a good time."
"Maybe its time to change Rigby's role a bit. I have no doubt you'd give any villain a hard time. That spunky attitude along with your pretty-boy looks, the audience would love it! They'd be on the edge of their seats, hoping Mickey would swoop in to save his best friend from a terrible fate that couldn't be avoided, no matter how hard fought...."
"That'll be cool!" Mickey chimed in, before being silenced by his friend's dirty look.
"I have no intentions of being placed into a terrible situation, so there is no need for a rescue, thus eliminating a need for a picture."
The friendly look on Wessell's face disappeared, replaced by annoyance. "Anyone can become a victim without warning. I think you received a good sense of that when that strangely dressed man cornered you in the bathroom yesterday. I could tell the experience upset you by the way you stared at that poster."
"Yeah, and now you're suggesting I spend an entire movie being chased by him?" Brad replied testily, noting the sudden chill in the director's voice.
"Don't you want to show the villain that you're not afraid? You got away from him once, I'm sure you are quite capable of doing it again."
"What? I can't believe this! I don't care about the opinion of some stupid movie character...." A sudden thought struck Brad as he stared incredulously at the director. Was it purely coincidence that the creep from one of Wessell's movies showed up the way he did? And then disappeared without a trace? "Can your machine bring out the movie characters into our world?"
"Brad!" Mickey cried out in shock. "Are you suggesting Wes sicced The Demon on you yesterday? He wouldn't do that! That dude was nothing but pure evil, and you wouldn't have stood a chance without Captain Spartan."
"The Demon?" Brad turned his attention back to Wessell, his blue eyes large. The man he ran into yesterday could certainly be described as pure evil.
"The name of the character you saw," Wessell answered warily, willing his trembling limbs to stop before the boys noticed. He couldn't tell them the entire truth without the risk of jeopardizing his goals. "I wouldn't deliberately spring someone like him without warning. My machine is only intended to create movies where people couldn't complain of bad acting, because all the action is live and real. I would get true reactions to situations, not falsely generated ones. The participation would be voluntary, not forced."
"If the action is real, wouldn't that put the 'participants' in harms way?" Brad queried, not liking the undertones. If his experience with The Demon was any indication....
"Oh no, no! I'll hand pick who I feel would best handle the situation, and do preparations first before letting them go inside the movie."
"Will the bullets and laser beams be real?"
"Of course. Like I said, everything will be as genuine as if it were happening in real life. Safety will be the first priority."
Brad shook his head at the reasoning. "It'll still be dangerous. Someone could get killed if they get in too much over their head."
"There's nothing to worry about. I have a special button to handle something like that." Wessell placed the remote into the younger man's hand and pointed. "If the scene gets too intense, all you have to do is press the 'stop action' button, and the movie will automatically stop."
"I don't know...," Brad hesitated, giving the remote back to the director. "What if you get someone who doesn't have the sense to stop? Could the other person's remote stop the scene?"
"Right now there is only one remote," Wessell said slowly, "but I am planning on creating more remotes if my invention catches on."
"HUH? You want me and Mickey both to try out your machine with only one remote?" the brunette Skysurfer argued heatedly. "Since I'm playing the victim, how will Mr. Hero find me if I get drug off somewhere? This is twisted!"
"Please, calm yourself. I wouldn't leave you vulnerable like that," Wessell hurried to soothe. "I have small receiver that the other person can wear on them. It'll keep you and the one who has the remote in constant contact. Mickey would be able to find you, no matter where you were."
"See, Wes has it under control," Mickey spoke up, hoping to ease his friend's combativeness to the idea of testing the machine out for themselves. "I don't see the harm in just trying it out once. You're sounding like Jack now, worrying about everything."
"Someone has to practice some common sense around here," Brad shot back. "You just can't walk blindly into this!"
"Mickey, your friend is right," Mr. Wessell conceded with a sickly sweet smile in Brad's direction. "This is something you should give a lot of thought to." He looked down at his watch, a gasp of surprise leaving his lips. "Oh! It's time for me to open the doors so the folks can come in. Why don't you boys go find your seats and enjoy the movies. There's plenty of time to discuss what you want to do about my offer later."
"Sounds good to me, Wes," Mickey replied with big grin. "I've been waiting a long time to see these two movies, and I'd sure hate to miss 'em!"
As the three men exited the secret room, a dark clad figure morphed out from the shadows, his gloved hand grasping around the remote. A fiendish smile lit up his thin mouth as he mulled over the many different scenarios he could force upon his unsuspecting prey....
And every one of them ended in a drawn out, painful death.
