“Masked Mystery Men Tangle with Jungle Terrors!”
Dateline: Peru
Ladies and gentlemen, grab your fedoras and tighten those garters, because this reporter has a doozy of a tale straight from the jungles of darkest Peru! Our beloved band of masked adventurers — known in certain circles as The Fury, Blackout, The Omen, and The Hamilton Skyhook — find themselves hot on the trail of ancient evil, and brother, things are heating up faster than a speakeasy on a Saturday night!
After a ferocious fracas at the local museum where two of those foul, flesh-draining fiends known as Kharisiri bit the dust and one scampered off into the shadows, our costumed crusaders combed the streets for answers. But alas! Information was scarcer than hooch in a dry county.
With darkness settling over the city, the gang returned to their hotel, where the ever-thirsty Blackout took full advantage of Peru’s admirable disregard for America’s Prohibition nonsense. A tip of the hat to our south-of-the-border friends!
At daybreak, rather than hitch a ride with the shadowy Augustus Larkin and his creepy caravan, the lads chartered a vessel up the coast. A wise move, says this reporter. Upon arrival, with hours to kill before Larkin’s grim arrival, the enigmatic Phantom Scarab extended an invitation to one of the fabled floating reed islands of Lake Titicaca. There, they met a local mystic named Mayra — a gal with more ancient secrets than a pharaoh’s tomb.
Mayra spun a chilling yarn about an evil god that fell to earth and was entombed beneath a monstrous stone. But no sooner had her lips finished the tale than the night erupted with violence!
Four Kharisiri burst from the shadows! The valiant Blackout took a bite to the neck, his vigor swiftly drained. The Fury, fueled by his skull pendant and unholy rage, tore into the attackers like a man possessed. The Hamilton Skyhook let loose a hail of beanbags and bullets, and The Omen — calm as a jazzman on Sunday morning — unsheathed a sword from within his cane and made short work of the beasts.
With the last of the monstrosities dispatched, Mayra delivered one final dire warning: unless these horrors are burned to ash, they’ll rise again like bad pennies!
And so, dear readers, as our brave heroes press ever closer to the heart of darkness, the questions mount:
What is Augustus Larkin really up to? Where are these Kharisiri crawling from? And who — or what — slumbers beneath the ancient stones?