PRESENTS

BERNIE
WR1GHIS0N
 CREEPY PRESENTS

BERNIE
WR1GHIS0N
The definitive collection of Bernie Wrightson’s stories
and illustrations from the pages of Creepy and Eerie

Collaborators

HOWARD CHAYKIN
NICOLA CUTI
BILL DU BAY
CARMINE INFANTINO
BRUCE JONES
BUDD LEWIS
WALT SIMONSON

Introduction by BRUCE JONES

 Publisher MIKE RICHARDSON

Editor PHILIP SIMON

Consulting Editors
DAN BRAUN & CRAIG HAFFNER
with SHAWNA GORE

Assistant Editor JOHN SCHORK

Digital Production and Retouch

RYAN JORGENSEN

Collection Designer JUSTIN COUCH

Published by
Dark Horse Books
A division of Dark Horse Comics, Inc.
10956 SE Main Street
Milwaukie, Oregon 97222

DarkHorse.com

To find a comic shop in your area, call the Comic Shop Locator Service:
(888) 266-4226

First edition: September 2011

ISBN 978-1-59582-809-5

13579 10 8642
Printed at 1010 Printing International, Ltd., Guangdong Province, China

CREEPY™ PRESENTS BERNIE WRIGHTSON

CREEPY, the CREEPY logo, EERIE, the EERIE logo, and all contents © 1966, 1974, 1975, 1976, 1977, 1978, 1979, 1982,
2011 by New Comic Company. All rights reserved. No portion of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form
or by any means without written permission from Dark Horse Comics, Inc. No similarity between any of the names, characters,
persons, and/or institutions in this publication and those of any preexisting person or institution is intended, and any similarity that
may exist is purely coincidental. Dark Horse Books® and the Dark Horse logo are registered trademarks of Dark Horse Comics, Inc.
All rights reserved.

This volume collects the stories and illustrations by Bernie Wrightson from Creepy issues 9, 62, 63, 64, 66, 67, 68, 69, 70,
71, 73, 75, 76, 77, 83, 86, 87, 95, 113, and 138 and Eerie issues 57, 58, 60, 61, 62, 63, 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 70, 71,
and 72, originally published in 1966, 1974, 1975, 1976, 1977, 1978, 1979, and 1982 by Warren Publishing.

MIKE RICHARDSON President and Publisher • NEIL HANKERSON Executive Vice President • TOM WEDDLE Chief Finan¬
cial Officer • RANDY STRADLEY Vice President of Publishing • MICHAEL MARTENS Vice President of Book Trade Sales
ANITA NELSON Vice President of Business Affairs • MICHA HERSHMAN Vice President of Marketing • DAVID SCROGGY
Vice President of Product Development • DALE LAFOUNTAIN Vice President of Information Technology • DARLENE VOGEL
Senior Director of Print, Design, and Production • KEN LIZZ1 General Counsel • DAVEY ESTRADA Editorial Director SCOTT
ALLIE Senior Managing Editor • CHRIS WARNER Senior Books Editor • DIANA SCHUTZ Executive Editor • CARY GRAZZINI
Director of Print and Development • LIA RIBACCHI Art Director • CARA NIECE Director of Scheduling

Comic Company: DAN BRAUN, CRAIG HAFFNER, RICK BROOKWELL, and JOSH BRAUN
 CONTENTS
FOREWORD by BRUCE JONES . .
THE BLACK CAT.
Story and art by BERNIE WRIGHTSON
Originally appeared in Creepy #62
JENIFER.
Story by BRUCE JONES
Art by BERNIE WRIGHTSON
Originally appeared in Creepy #63
CLARICE.
Story by BRUCE JONES
Art by BERNIE WRIGHTSON
Originally appeared in Creepy #77
COUNTRY PIE.
Story by BRUCE JONES
Art by CARMINE INFANTINO
and BERNIE WRIGHTSON
Originally appeared in Creepy #83
DICK SWIFT AND HIS
ELECTRIC POWER RING.
Story by BILL DU BAY
Art by CARMINE INFANTINO
and BERNIE WRIGHTSON
Originally appeared in Creepy #86
A MARTIAN SAGA.52
Story by NICOLA CUTI
Art by BERNIE WRIGHTSON
Originally appeared in Creepy #87
THE LAUGHING MAN.58
Story by BRUCE JONES
Art by BERNIE WRIGHTSON
Originally appeared in Creepy #95
.6 THE PEPPER LAKE MONSTER.65
Story and art by BERNIE WRIGHTSON
10 Originally appeared in Eerie #58
NIGHTFALL.75
Story by BILL DU BAY
22 Art by BERNIE WRIGHTSON
Originally appeared in Eerie #60
COOL AIR.83
Story by H. P. LOVECRAFT
32 Story adaptation and art by
BERNIE WRIGHTSON
Originally appeared in Eerie #62
REUBEN YOUNGBLOOD:
37 PRIVATE EYE!.90
Story by BUDD LEWIS
Art by BERNIE WRIGHTSON and
HOWARD CHAYKIN
Originally appeared in Eerie #72
THE MUCK MONSTER.100
43 Story and art by BERNIE WRIGHTSON
Originally appeared in Eerie #68
CREEPY AND EERIE
FRONTISPIECE AND
ILLUSTRATION GALLERY.107
All illustrations by BERNIE WRIGHTSON,
unless otherwise noted
 FOREWORD
What can you say about a legend?
Bernie Wrightson is one of the best-known comic¬
book artists of the twentieth century. Dozens of past
introductions have been written about him (my own
included). His fans are legion. Even newbies are
aware of and admire his enduring body of work.
He’s also one of my closest friends. So what follows
can hardly be an unbiased appraisal.
Yet this volume of the Warren years is special for
a variety of reasons, and I wanted to be part of it.
In a very real way I was part of it. I was there, for
instance, with Bernie in the Warren offices when
he turned in “The Black Cat.” Jim Warren—always
swell to me—could be a tough customer. Jim al¬
ready knew of Bernie’s growing rep but was never
one to appear impressed or to gush—tell an artist
his worth, and he might take advantage, right? Any¬
way, Bernie and I walked in and there’s Jim, sitting
6
imperiously behind his desk going through some
pages of art. Now understand, the "Black Cat” job
had already been assigned—and now completed—
but Warren hadn’t seen any of it yet. As we closed
the door behind us, Warren looked up, fixed Bernie
with that withering Warren eye, and said, "Why do
you do hack work?”
I was mortified, but Bernie held his ground. He
knew how good he was. “Beg pardon?” Warren then
held up the art he was perusing. It was Bernie’s.
Not great, either. “You’re a hack. Hacks don’t work
for Warren Magazines.” I already had my hand on
the door, but Bernie just stood there smiling. "Oh,
that. I did that when I was sixteen. Where’d you
ever find it?” First time I ever saw Jim Warren draw
a blank. Bernie then, with magnificent timing, slid
over the finished pages of "The Black Cat.” Second
time I ever saw Jim Warren go blank. Followed by
a low, "Jesus ...”
It was a great moment—which ended with Jim
following us down the hall to the elevator sali¬
vating, raving on and on about every beautiful
panel. "Now we’ve got more work for you here,
Wrightson! You’re always welcome here at War¬
ren Magazines!”
A sweet victory past due. Bernie had saved up a
long time before approaching the Warren offices.
We all had. I lived in Jersey, across the river. Bernie,
Mike Kaluta, and Jeff and Louise Jones lived in an
apartment building on West Seventy-Ninth, which
became the locus for a lot of parties and general
hanging out. A lot of major talent moved in and
out of those doors, like Vaughn Bode, Steve Harper,
Archie Goodwin, and their various girlfriends and
wives. But for me it will always be the four of us:
Bern, Mike, Jeff, and me. Just a bunch of kids, re¬
ally, in our late teens or early twenties, all from dis¬
parate parts of the country, who, by some strange
fate, ended up in New York at exactly the same
time. And all of us, in large part, because we’d read
Creepy and Eerie back in our hometowns. “Gone to
different schools together,” ya know? The Warren
books had haunted each of us, and we knew we’d
all eventually end up in them someday; they were
the invisible tie that drew us to the Big Apple.
To really get a sense of those days, you had to be
there, or at least know something of the history of
comics in the seventies. First off, it was hardly a
vaunted medium. The pay was barely sustainable.
The respect from family, outside friends, and the
public at large? Zilch. Nobody read comics anymore
by the time we four hit NYC. Even our vaunted War¬
ren titles were in danger of folding. There literally
was no fandom. There certainly was no sprawling,
media-crossing San Diego Comic-Con. We didn’t
seek fame and fortune and would have laughed at
the idea of comics one day being in vogue, some¬
thing worthy of Hollywood’s attention. We went be¬
cause we loved to draw. We stayed, largely out of
moral support and because that’s where our gods
and heroes lived: Frank Frazetta, Al Williamson, Roy
Krenkel, Hal Foster. The fact that these giants would
one day drop by our places to shoot the bull and
swap stories was like a dream come true. Never
mind that most had moved on from comics, realiz¬
ing, even if we didn’t, that the golden age was over.
I think they got a kick out of us, out of the youthful
enthusiasm they’d once known themselves when
art was still an undiscovered world and every day
an exciting new discovery. Williamson was particu¬
larly generous in opening up his heart and home to
us scraggly “hippies.” Good old Al, he never really
stopped being a Fleagle.
Still, we had missed the golden age. The seven¬
ties was the Kirby era, and if you didn’t draw like
him or Neal Adams—“Sorry kid, yer stuff looks old
fashioned. Keep practicing.” We’d banded together,
fortified by our EC and sci-fi heroes, ready to show
the world. But we’d arrived too late.
But not quite. Thanks to Larry Ivie, Russ Jones,
Archie Goodwin, and the "tyrannical” Jim Warren,
not only was that EC vibe still faintly alive, but
Frazetta, Willamson, Heath, and other greats had
even worked there! All in glorious black-and-white
and fine-detail printing! The major comics publish¬
ers, by comparison, still suffocated by the code
and coasting on Spider-Man and The Flash, had
gone from metal to plastic printing plates and re¬
production that bordered on mush. Fine line work,
soft feathering, and washes...? Forget it. War¬
ren, though he may have been constantly battling
bankruptcy, was not only there—his true glory days
were still ahead. I doubt there would have been
any fanzines without Warren, and believe me, fan¬
zines were important to us, a place to work that
actually paid! Kept us all eating at times. Those
and the host of other black-and-white comic maga¬
zines that sprang up during those days, like Web
of Horror, Psycho, and Marvel’s science-fiction
magazines. It’s hard for me now to believe we ever
groused about the lack of “our kind of genre”—it
was all around us! Even DC started doing stuff like
The Shadow and bringing back their old anthology
titles like House of Mystery. All thanks, in no small
way, to Warren.
There really was a weird mix of books in those days.
Most kids didn’t even remember comics, let alone
read them, yet thousands were being published.
Dozens of titles still flourished, chances were con¬
stantly being taken, and new things always being
tried. No one was getting rich, but you could make
a squeaky living, and—if you wished—not even
have to draw superheroes. As I write this, the al¬
most exact opposite is true today. More than that,
Krenkel and Williamson were teaching us about Mu¬
cha, Coll, Pyle, Wyeth, Booth, St. John, Cornwell,
Brangwyn, Parrish, and J. R. Neil—the dizzying list
of great illustrators went on and on. Most weren’t
still alive, much less working, but that didn’t faze
us. We weren’t mainstream seventies artists, and
we were proud of that.
I knew virtually every up-and-comer comic art¬
ist in New York in those days, and trust me, they
all struggled with their craft. Not Bernie, though.
The guy was just amazing ... no, supernatural.
Blessed. Bernie Wrightson could draw ANYTHING.
EFFORTLESSLY. You had to be there. Standing
there watching him work, you were too full of awe
to realize your teeth were grinding with envy.
Cigarette dangling from his mouth, absolutely no ref¬
erence on his board, Bernie would sit there with only
a pencil stub and his imagination and let the magic
flow. I vividly remember Jeff Jones coming to me
one day with a panel Bernie had done. "Bruce, look
at this! A guy swinging on a rope between buildings
carrying two women on his back! How the hell does
he do it?!” How, indeed? It all came from some hid¬
den vulgate, some deeply personal well from which
only he could draw. Oh, you see a dash of Frazetta
in this panel, a soupgon of Foster in that—we all
worshiped those guys—and you could see a lot of
Ingles in some of Bernie’s famous walking-dead cre¬
ations. But in the end, it was always all Bernie. I’d
have killed for that kind of confidence. We all would
have. Kaluta used to just stand there behind Bernie’s
drawing board and shake his head. I remember com¬
plimenting Jeff one time on a particularly nice piece
of art. "Yeah,” he grinned, "Bernie penciled it.”
Bernie Wrightson. We hated him. We loved him.
You couldn’t not love him; there was, certainly in
the Warren days, not a trace of ego. He was always
just one of the guys, ready to help out if you were
on deadline and ready to drop his brush at a mo¬
ment’s notice if Frankenstein came on the tube—
or any Boris Karloff movie. Also, he was funny as
hell. Not to mention handsome and heroic looking,
a dude we all used for reference—and he was al¬
ways happy to oblige. A Baltimore street kid who,
somewhat shy around women, could have had his
pick of the room. A genius unaware. I was always
the class clown, but Bernie could make me laugh
harder than anyone—and together we could rock
the walls on a good day.
And, of course, there was "Jenifer”—which prob¬
ably gave my career its greatest boost and would
have been nothing without Bernie’s beautifully
haunting art.
And one more thing: When Bernie was a hotshot
at DC, it was during Carmine Infantino’s reign up
there. Carmine helped break Bernie in and Bernie
never forgot. We walked into the Warren offices to¬
gether one day to find Carmine fired from DC and
working alone in a forlorn little office that Warren,
out of the goodness of his heart, had let Infantino
use to get back on his feet. Bernie and I stopped
in to say hi, and though the big Italian smiled, you
could see the hurt in his eyes. As we got on the
elevator, Bernie turned to me and said, "Hey, let’s
do something for him. A real pisser to bring him
back into the light. You write it; Carmine can pencil
it; and I’ll ink it.” The result was “Country Pie,”
one of my favorite Warren stories in this volume. All
because of the incredible generosity of editor Louise
Jones and the amazing Bernie Wrightson.
Ya gotta love that.
—BRUCE JONES, April 2011
THE
16
17
,,, THIS HIPEOUS MURPER ACCOM-
PUSHEP, I SET MYSELF FORTHWITH,
AMP WITH ENTIRE PEL/BERAT/OM, TO
THE TASK OF COMCEAttNG THE 8PPY...
21
22
23
24
The authorities d/p believe me.
ANO NO TRACE OF THE GIRL'S PARENTS ^YOU WANT
Wr WA/T TO CCHOKE)
OR NEXT OF N//V COUL0 BE FOUNP. V YOUR HONOR! T
IT WAS RIGHT AFTER THE JUPGE HAP ADOPT
PLEASE,,, I,„ I'P . HER?
ANNOUNCEP HIS PLANS TO PLACE LIRE TO APPLY FOR
JENIFER IN AN /NST/TUT/ON THAT I
PAPERS TO ADOPT
FIRST FELT HER EVES UPON ME,,, , THE GIRL. A
THOSE BLACK, HIPEOUSL/ COMPELLING
Eyes...

I KIPPEP MySELF INTO BELIEVING

MAPGE ANP THE CHILPREN WOULC
UNDERSTAND. THERE WAS NO WA
OF SOFTENING THE SHOCK. rMAPGE,„KIPS^
THIS IS TEN/PER.
SHE'S GOING TO
s live with us! A

yEWHAT CAN
WF JIM, YOU'VE 60TN ' 1 DO, FOR GOO'S ’
" TO GET R/O OF \ SAKE? SHE TPC/STS
HER! I 00N'T WANT me/ it woulp
TO SEEM HEARTLESS, V NICE HER/ /
~T!MMY, BUT SHE'S TEARING J
EAT YOUR L APART THE A
SUPPER. Kv| FAMILW
wPl CAN'T!
f NOT WHILE
SHE'S SITTING
i ACROSS FROM
X^ME.'^j

25
26
27
28
 I ec/A/eo the earny manager in a pesertep
FIELP ANP SOLO MY BUSINESS ANP THE HOUSE
THE NEXT WEEK. JENIFER ANP I HIT THE ROAP,
NOT BOTHERING TO CHART A ROUTE, RUNNING
MINPLES5LY FROM CONSTANTLY PURSUING
KISMORieS. LIFE BECAME A SUCCESSION OF
SHOPPY MOTEL ROOMS,,,

r JENIFER,^
PLEASE' ffOT]
TONIGHT.,, i

WE FOUNP AN ABANPONEP FARM HOUSE. I HIT

THE BOTTLE, FORGOT ABOUT WORK. EXISTENCE
WAS A MUPPIEP MONTAGE OF CHEAP WfN£,
JENIFER'S SLOBBERING A/A»S ANP CLINGING
TALONS, ANP LONG, LONELY WALKS AT
NIGHT WHEN SHE'P MERCIFULLY SLEEP ANP
LEAVE ME ALONE.
I'LL KfLL MYSELF?
YES, IT'S THE
ONLY ANSWER,,-
BUT EVEN IN HER SLEEP, JENIFER KEPT
HER STRANGE, IRREPRESSIBLE //OLD ON
ME. ANP EACH NIGHT AFTER MY WALK, I'P
FINP A NEW SUPPLY OF ROT GUT
MYSTERIOUSLY WAITING FOR M ftSTLYAN.
SHE KEPT ME PANGLIN6 ON A SLENPER
THREAP OF ALCOHOL,,,
N Hs

29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
country Pie
"i see the v/ct/m now...i see the v/cy/m,
SHERIFF ...THE KILUER 15 APPROACHING RAPIPLY
ON.., ON A COUNTRY ROAP SOMEWHERE ... CLOSE
"JUST TAKE YOUR T/AAE, MRS. WHITNEY...
this is exTBe/Y\ei.Y important, try to
DESCRIBE THE LANDSCAPE AR.OUNP
ev... FA/RLV CLOSE By...BUT I CAN'T QU/TE THE SCENE...WE NEEO THAT INFORMATION

37
38
39
40
41
42 END
43
''ygAH/auT I'm a uttl-e woR*f€P\ r J THOUGHT 1-12 IT THE^
ABOUT THE RING, THOUGH ! IT'S you WERE POSTAL
TAKING AN AWFUL- IOA/G TtAAB GOING TO USE OAPP/BfZ,
TO GET HERE! THE RING TO GRAMMZ R\R
FINR yoUR. \r\E PINAU-V
aaothbp BRING MV
vthink nl Ay bet ANR
TPOUeS PlRATEE
interoertep it,
MR. MU2IC...
KNOWIN' I WAE
GONNA USE IT
TO HEER PIC-K
THWART THEIR
RAETARRET

HAs/E VOU ^
FORGOTTEN
j to ho you
yBSTERRAy. ■ ■
PLP£AC? Y,
ROCTOR ?
SOMETIMES
I REAR TO
HIM... ANP
SOMETIMES
 yOU JUST KffP
TAKING YOU a
Ai ep/c/A/e, anp
YOU'UL BB BETTlT
. IN NcP TIME AT

N-NO... AK?/ EIR5T HIE PARENTS

WERE TAKEN EROM A'E,..wy EON
ANP H(5 WlEE/ A-ANC? NOW
perepr w-why ie eate eo
^//^A. on>r^r>t? <z

45
 you R-RBAC*
TO Me , MR. MUSIC.., ?
TSUU MS ... OF PfCK
SW/BT'S l-ATSST
SXR1.0\TS.. '2

In his wonderous all-electric laboratory, Dick Swift was busy Suddenly, Dick’s electrical equipment crackled, brar-
keeping watch on the city with his incredible electric spy ing with sudden life...'. And the vile form of the boy
sensors'. Dick’s inventions told him all was well! genius’ sworn enemy amblazoned upon the magical
video tube!

They could not detect the muffled screams of piteous

Pearl Pureheart and her half-breed, half-sister, Wanda One-
lust!_

Dick’s brain sputtered and his thoughts
raced with the speed of pure electrical
lightning! Which sister should he savel
He had always been partial to pure
Pearl’s blonde locks... but there was
much to be said for Wanda’s one lust.
too!
Dick Swift zoomed over Gotham’s roof¬
tops with lightning-like speed! He
scooped up the enraged Pasta pusher
in one deft motion, and watched smug¬
ly as the deathly perils bore towards
his long-time female compatriots!
Yet, even as the boy marvel swoop¬
ed to a perfect two-point landing,
he heard the sickening sound of a
buzzsaw cleaving through crunch¬
ing bone... and the rumble of a
speeding subway bumping along on
an unalterable course!

moment of confused madness,

The answer came to him like an elec¬ Dick looked upwards towards
trical shock... and swiftly, Dick Swift where pure Pearl had been tied,
used his magical magical electric pow¬ and was instantly splattered with
er ring to invent an electrically-power¬ something akin to Luigi’s famed
ed flying machine! pasta sauce!!_

46
47
49
50
END
 1 had come to
the land

of the pale
ochre sand,
im

52
T/here’s no reason So I’ll see
st Sure, there’re Hills and craters
to stay, what
w I can, clouds abound,
in the sky,
rescue’s two weeks of this on the smooth
desolate land, but the seas desert ground
are bone dry,
But most
of the land

is the same.

4#. V"
M AJ M
53
54
While the tribesmen
were stunned,

I unholstered
my gun

And burned
a hole

through its hide

56
As we locked
in embrace,

horror twisted
my face,

Damnation,
I ran out

END
 THE
s
LAUGHING MAN

58
 FEELING BEGINNING? >
/ BETTER? GOOD. ' ...YES...YES THERE
NOW, I WANT yOU TO ms A BEGINNING,
START AT THE BEGINNING V WASN'T THERE ? EVER HEAR OF THE WANK/, QOC ? NO'.
V ...THE VERY . WELL YOU CAN BET THESE IGNORANT
■V BEGINNING. yA SAIA4GES yOU'RE DOCTORIN' HAVE.
WAHKI IS JUST ABOUT THE MOST
v FAMOUS LEGEND IN CENTRAL AFRICA .
k BRIGGS WAS THE ONE WHO FIRST
Bk. TOLD ME A BOUT IT.../

LET'S SEE...
f NAME'S MARK
TANNER...YES. GOT
TNAT RIGHT.. .AND MV
v PARTNER WAS JEFF
V BRIGGS. y

'WE WAS IN ILLINOIS AT THE TIME, TRyiN1 TO KEEP TOGETHER WHAT WAS LEFT OF A BUSTED DOWN OLD TRAVELIN' CARNY.
WE WAS NEARLY BUSTED OURSELVES. I REMEMBER IT WAS RAININ' LIKE CRAZY...HAD BEEN FOR RAYS... WHEN ONE
MORNIN1 BRIGGS COMES RUNNIN' INTO MY TRAILER..." i—7T~w^rT-

£ I , 4?*WL' tanner and stow y <oL

mv Jk -\\' \ \\m
lIMMI ™atbottle! I 1 ...^ ;•§ \ • ■
V JUST FOUND OUR M __1 ■
» 1 r VJ/A alMr/ow.^jpHU fkaiiBiv7 a w=ab

59
 According to the ARTICLE,
THE MAN-APES... WHAT THE
NATIVES CALLEP "INAHKI".. ■
WAS A LEGENPARY CREATURE
THOUGHT BY THE LOCAL TRIBES
TO BE "THINKING GORRILAS"
WHOSE RANGE WAS STRICTLY
LIMITED TO THE UGH AN!
V.ALLEY REGION. SOME
TOURIST HAP TAKEN A FOGGY
PICTURE OF WHAT WAS
SUPPOSE TO BE ONE OF THEM...

'(Jet-tins there was one thing, But A LITTLE THING LIKE THAT WASN'T GOING to STOP JEFF BRIGGS. HE
» FINPING A GUIPE TD TAKE US INTO OBTAINEP A QUESTIONABLE MAP PROM A QUESTIONABLE SOURCE SHOWING
THE VALLEY WAS ANOTHER..." A SECRET R/I/ER THROUGH THE UGHANI VALLEY ANP WE WERE OFF..."

/QUIT GRIPIN' / ^
r SUT I'M > ^ SORRY, > YOU WANNA BE
PAYING TRIPLE, 7 BOSS, NO /WARMS RICH ANP FAMOUS.
POR GOO'S , BOYS GO INTO 'are KILLIN' l YOU GOTTA PAY
v SAKE/ ^5 VVAHKI COUNTRY.. \ ME/ XvOUR PL/ES.' >
. VERT BAP
^ MAGIC/ .
WHAT
NEXT.
B'wana:

' NOLO IT
A SECONP..

HOLY
CROW!

60
61
We removed the stakes from the
PIT AND PLACED A NARROW BEAM
ACROSS IT TO SUPPORT BRIGG'S
WEIGHT. HE SAT NERVOUSLY IN THE
CENTER OF THE TRAP WHJLE I HIP
IN THE SHRUBBERY NEARBY. BY PAWN
A PEN5E FOG HAP MOVED IN... "

I HAP ALMOST 11 searched all 3Y DUSK I COLLAPSED EXHAUSTED ON THE DANK

DOZED OFF WHEN THAT NIGHT AND EARTH, TOTALLY P/SORIENTEP, HELPLESSLY LOST IN
1 HEARD THE , THE NEXT DAY THE LABYRINTH OF VINES AND CREEPERS... "
SCREAM... * BUT NO BRIGGS. I
BEGAN WALKING IN
ERRATIC CIRCLES,
STUMBLING BLINPLY
TANNER! Blasted ► THROUGH THE
TANNER' FOG,, .CAN'T | JUNGLE CALLING
THE RIFLE. SEE A — HIS NAME..."

pmrn
'l AWOKE LOOKING
INTO HIS EVES,. ''

Y BRIGGS.'
BRIGGS, FOR
GOD’S SAME
ANSWER
&RIGGS ME/

62
END
THE
 SUMMERS WAS &EIMG PAIR gy A LARGE
UNIVERSITy TO INVESTIGATE CLAIMS OF "SEA
MONSTERS" PEPPER LAKE WAS THE LAST
STOP ON HIS LIST,,,

65
66
67
 ...THAT ENTIRE PAV WAS SPENT IN Fi/T/CE ATTEMPTS TO RAISE SOME /NTEREST IN THE HUNT FOR THE SEA MONSTER...

68
THE PAYS THAT FOLLOWEP
WERE HARP AMP COAfC/
HE HAP TO TMtVSPORT ^ASTSA/ THE
HI5 MATERIALS TO ROPES ANP NETS TO
THE LAKE SHORE,,, THE POLES.,.
70
71
72
73
74
PROLOGUE

75
76
77
78
79
 y MY FATHER'S A you SO AWAY
MEAN GUY IGOR1 NOW, HEAR?
YOU BETTER LISTEN
TO WHAT HE
k_SAYS.' t

HE'S GONNA
SET MAO IF
YOU MAKS ME
OPEN MY
EYES ANP
SCREAM'

f I'M GONNA
KEEP MY EYES
CLOSED... ANP
WHEN 1 OPEN
'EM IN THE
MORNING, YOU
BETTER BE
l GOA/S,
a IGOR/

WE...BE...
GO/YE..MEMO.

you..
COME.
TOO! YOU...COME..
PtAY... NEMO-

WILL. ..MAKE
...FATHER...
ANGRY IF
YOU SCREAM,
...NEMO!
81
82
 HAVE I GOT
mA SPeC/AL TPBAT^m
f FOR all you GHOUL 1
.GOURMETS. HERE'S THE
I FIRST INSTALLMENT OF
H.PLOVECRAFT’S
I- 3FRHI WR/GHTSON'S
k NEW SERIES, CLASSICS .
OF HOPPOR ! THIS /
■u,FIRST ADAPTATION A
is...

YOU ASK ME TO EXPLAIN WHY I AM AFRAIP

OF A DRAUGHT OF COOL AIR; WHY l SHIVER.
MORE THAN OTHERS UPON ENTERING A
COLD ROOM, AND SEEM NAUSEATEP ANP
REPELLEP WHEN THE CHILL OF EVENING
CREEPS THROUGH THE HEAT OF A M/LP
AUTUMN DAY.

WHAT I WILL PO IS RELATE THE MOST

HORRIBLE CIRCUMSTANCES I EVER
ENCOUNTERED AND LEAVE IT TO YOU TO
JUDGE WHETHER OR NOT THIS FORMS A
SUITABLE EXPLANATION OF MY PECULIARITY

IN THE SPRING OF 1923

I HAP SECUREP SOME PREARY
ANP UNPROFITABLE MAGAZINE
WORK IN NEW YORK CITY.
BEING UNABLE TO PAY ANY
SUBSTANTIAL RENT. I BEGAN
PRIFTING FROM ONE CHEAP
BOARPING HOUSE TO ANOTHER.
TILL I CAME UPON A HOUSE
ON WEST FOURTEENTH STREET
WHICH PISGUSTEP ME LESS
THAN THE OTHERS I HAP
SAMPLED.

83
If INPEEP, FROM THE
I/ CEILING OF My KITCHEN
7 CAME A 50FT ANP CON-
1 STANT, BUT NEVER AN-
I NOyiNG HUM FROM INHAT
j WAS OBVIOUSLY A GAS-
fi CLINE POWEREP ENGINE
ON THE FLOOR ABOVE.

...THE POOR OPENEP,,, A

RUSH OF COOL AIR GREETEP
ME,,. ANP I FAINTEP IN
PR. MUNOZ' ARMS,,,/
 PR. MUNOZ'S SKILLFUL MINISTRATIONS
RELIEVED,..I PARE SAy EFFECTEDA
COMPLETE CURE...OP MY HEART CON-
PITION. I SOON BECAME A PEVO-
TEE OF THE GIFTED RECLUSE.

TOikfBi

MANy WERE THE TIME5 WE TALKED, LONG INTO

THE NIGHT, OF HIS RESEARCH ANP EXPERIMENTS
IN MIND OVER MATTER, 5USPENPEP ANIMATION,
ANP ARTIFICIAL PRESERVATION,,,/

85
 WE RE-APJUSTEP HIS COOLING SYSTEM TO
PROPUCE EVEN LOWER TEMPERATURES.,. BETWEEN
THIRTY-FOUR ANP FORTY PEGREES/

HE PEVELOPEP A PENCHANT FOR POWERFUL

EGYPTIAN! INCENSE ANP SPICES TILL HIS ROOMS
SMELLEP LIKE A PHAPOAH's PALACE....'

86
PR. MUNOZ RAGEP ANP CURSEP
VIOLENTLY FOR SEVERAL HOURS/
TILL A SEVERE SPASM SENT HIM
SCREAMING, HAN PS COVERING
HIS EYES, INTO THE BATHROOM.

87
88
89
 A 393 Reuben
OCTOBER 23th, THREE YEARS TO THE DAY
SINCE THE BOTTOM HAD FALLEN OUT OF
THE NATION OYER ON WALL STREET.
WE WERE JUST SETTING OVER THE
Youngblood:
SHOCK OF BEING BROKE. NOW
WE WEREN'T SHOCKED. JUST BROKE.
BERLIN HAD JUST FALLEN UNDER
MARTIAL LAW. A NEW BERMAN
POLITICAL FACTION CALLED
"NAZ/ STORNf TROOPERS"
WERE CHASTISING THE COMMUNISTS IN
PER FADPERLAND. AND HtE?> I WAS
OWE HALF OF A STRUGGLING ENTERPRISE.

I WAS IN THE PRIVATE EYE BUSINESS! ANP LIKE EVERYONE ELSE.,, I WAS
WAITING FOR THINGS TO LOOSEN UP. AND SURE ENOUGH, I GOT
HANDED A SPECIAL DELIVERY FROM GERMANT. IF THINGS WEREN'T
ABOUT TO LOOSEN, THEY WERE TO START BECOMING SHAKEN.

90
IT SEEMS THE SMUGGLERS
ARE A GROUP OF WELL-TO-po
social ires who tour the
WORLP, LURIMG WOULP-BE'
STATUS SEEKERS INTO THEIR
ENTOURAGE. THE SOCIAL
CLIMBERS ALWAYS DISAP¬
PEAR... yet in their place,
THERE MYSTERIOUSLY APPEARS
SEVERAL GALLONS OF FRESH
HUMAN BLOOD/
WHEN IT WAS PISCOVEREP THAT THE PLANE
WAS AMERICAN-OWNEP, SIMON WAS
111 CALLEP INTO THE CASE.
IN THE WRECKAGE OF THE CRAFT, HE
FPUNP A SMASHEP CRATE, WITH THE
, SHATTEREP BOTTLES CONTAINING
THE BLOOD. HE ALSO FOUNP A
! LEDGER WITH THE NAMES OF
, THOSE WHO HAP PURCHASED THE
1 GHA5TL/ STUFF. WHAT HE PIPN'T
FINP OUT, WAS THE fW/ OF (TALL/
91
92
 NEEPLESS TO SAY, I WAS A BIT WARYOF
MY GERMAN BENEFACTORS,,, PARTICULARLY
AFTER RECEIVING SIMON'S LETTER.

MR. REUBEN YOUNG-

/BLOOD, MAY 1 PRESENT MY
/ MISTRESS, MADAM VON PAR-
SEVAL. MR. YOUNGBLOOD WILL
\ BE OFFERING HIS SEPY/CES
\ TO US UNTIL WE REACH
'- LTO/YE, MADAM

THE LIGHTER-THAN-AIR- SHIP

WAS OPULENT. IT WAS
MORE LIKE A LAVISH CAB-
ERET INSIDE, COMPLETE
WITH UNBOUNDED FRAU LEIN
ESCAPADES. T STAYED
ON THE FRINGES OF THE
BOISTUROUS PARTYING,
SINGLING OUT AND FACIALLY
MEMORIZING INDIVIDUAL
PASSENGERS.

QUICKLY I SPOTTED THE

FOUR ASSOCIATES OF THE
MADAM.THERE WAS HERR
GRUBER, TYPICAL HARD
NOSE KRAUT... BAWDY
AND CRUDE.
HERR WEIMAR, BESPEC¬ HERR SCHTALL&OK, HERR MUELLER LOOKED
TACLED, (QUIET UNTIL FIFTY, STIFF; AFFLICTED LIKE A SHRINER ON
THREE DEEP IN THE WITH A GLAZED Fl/QNT- CONVENTION. BUT UNDER
SCHNAPPS,THEN OVER LEADER SZARE. NEATH HIS OILY POMADE,
S£XEDAND UNDER - STIRRED A BRAIN THAT
courageous. FAIRLY SCREAMED, "NAZI.1"

93
AFTER HAVING LOG SEP A
MENTAL PROFILE ON THE
MADAM'S ENTOURAGE, T
QUIETLY REPAIRED TO THE
BAR TO ENJOY MY FIRST
WttiSKY AND WATER SINCE
THE EIGHTEENTH AMENDMENT. ,

94
THE SAYLA MASQUE WAS IN SESSION. IT
WAS SURPRISINGLY A NEAR SOMBRE
AFFAIR COMPARED TO THE COCKTAIL POUR
FESTIVITIES EARLIER. IF I'D HAVE BEEN A
BLOODHOUND INSTEAD OF A YOUNGBLOOD,
MY NOSE WOULD HAVE SEEN TtV/TCNtNG
WITH SUSPtC/ONS. IT WAS ANYWAY.

95
 ...OUT A WINPOW ANP INTO THE OCEAN/
HIS BLOATEP BOP/ EXPLOOSP ON
IMPACT WITH THE WATER.

98
I GLANCED UP AT TUB
HATCH. ONE OF
MADAM'S BLOOD- EATING
3UD01ES WAS STARTING
DOWN THE LADDER. BILB
ROSE IN MV THROAT. I
GAGGED IT BACK AS MV
FINGERS GROPED /HAPLY
UNDER ME IN THE COCKPIT.
MV HAND CLOSED AROUND
A WARMLY FAM/L/AR
OBJECT...

...A FLARE GUN/ SIMULTANEOUSLY 1 THUMBED THE HAMMER

BACK, REVVED THE PLANE ENGINE AND DE¬
THE WOO PE// ME A PEP PRESSED THE CATAPULT RELEASE.
FLARE RIPPED THROUGH
THE MONSTER'S HEART, THE CATAPULT LAUNCHED US LIKE A BAT OUT OF...BATP "BANNA!" THE
LEAVING A VOLCANIC NAME OF THE SHJPJ BANNA MEANS BAT!
TRACERY AS IT TORE FAST
HIS EXPLODING BODY ON
TOWARD THE NEL/UM
sags aero/vp.

NOT EVERYTH/MG HAD

FALLEN INTO PLACE. BUT
I KNEW ENOUGH ALREADY
TO MAKE MY BLOOD RUN
COLO. THANKS TO SIMON'S I FIGUREP I COULP LAMP IN ENGLAND AND
LETTER, I WAS FOREWARNED TRAPE THE PL A ME FOR A TRAtN TICKET
AND AS PREPARED FOR WHAT TO GERMAN// I WANTEP TO SEE SIMON...
TO TELL HIM ALL THAT HAP HAPPENED.
happened as a dumb
PRIVATE DICK COULP BE!

99
100
msm
102
103
104
105
106
CREEPY EERIE FRONTISPIECE AND ILLUSTRATION GALLERY
ALL IMAGES BY BERNIE WRIGHTSON, UNLESS OTHERWISE NOTED

The GHOULISH GATHERING writhing below is the pulsating

product of the fearfully fertile imagination of fiendish fan club
member BERNI WRIGHTSON, #520, of Baltimore, Maryland.
Berni didn't mention if this was a sketch taken from life . . .
or DEATH! From the looks of that tombstone in the right hand
corner, we may never know! At the rate you CREEPY CLUBBERS
are flinging in stories and artwork, we may have to expand
facilities next issue to accomodate your convulsive contributions
. . . When submitting drawings try not to fold them, and if pos¬
sible do them in ink or heavy pencils for best possible reproduc¬
tions. Stories should be typed or in ink as the light is bad in
the dungeon and oP Unc is down to his last three eyes! With
any SCARIFYING SKETCH or GORY STORIES, send along your
CFC number and tell us your age . . .

This Bernie Wrightson fan art originally appeared in Creepy #9, June 1966.
107
108
Front cover for Creepy #87, March 1977.
 Front cover for Creepy #113, November 1979.
110
Frontispiece from Creepy #62, May 1974.
Ill
 Frontispiece from Creepy #63, July 1974.
112
Frontispiece from Creepy #64, August 1974.
113
 Frontispiece from Creepy #66, November 1974.
114
Frontispiece from Creepy #67, December 1974.
115
 Frontispiece from Creepy #68, January 1975.
116
Frontispiece from Creepy #69, February 1975.
117
 Frontispiece from Creepy #70, April 1975.
118
?
•<

^ I'M UNCLE CREEPY ANP^

THIS IS My FRIENP, MERVfN,
HE WANTEP TO BORROW My
COPY OP THIS ISSUE AFTER
I HAP PtN/SHEO IT. S

IT HAS A PSYCHOPATHIC CH/tD. *

AN AMBULATORy CORPSE, AN AL/EN.
A WtZRRO-RtfYG ANV A MtNOTAUR.

SOMETHING
FOR EVERYONE.
EVEN MERV/N.
I TOLP HIM TO BUY
HIS OWN MAGAZINE.
HE GETS BLOOPY
P/NGERPR/NTS
ALL OVER THE
|k pages. ^

Frontispiece from Creepy #71, May 1975.

119
 Pinup from Creepy #73, August 1975.
120
Frontispiece from Creepy #75, November 1975.
121
 Frontispiece from Creepy #76, January 1976, with art by Walt Simonson and Bernie Wrightson.
122
Frontispiece from Creepy #77, February 1976.
123
 Frontispiece from Creepy #83, October 1976.
124
Pinup from Creepy #87, March 1977.
125
 Pinup from Creepy #138, June 1982.
126
Frontispiece from Eerie #57, June 1974.
127
 Frontispiece from Eerie #58, July 1974.
128
Frontispiece from Eerie #61, November 1974.
129
 Frontispiece from Eerie #62, January 1975.
130
Frontispiece from Eerie #63, February 1975.
131
 Frontispiece from Eerie #64, March 1975.
132
Frontispiece from Eerie #65, April 1975.
133
 Frontispiece from Eerie #66, June 1975.
134
Frontispiece from Eerie #67, August 1975.
135
 Frontispiece from Eerie #70, November 1975.
136
Frontispiece from Eerie #71, January 1976.
 Frontispiece from Eerie #72, February 1976.
138
Alternate version of the Creepy #71 frontispiece, provided by the artist.
139
WRIGHTSON
HORROR LEGEND BERNIE WRIGHTSON’S CREEPY AND EERIE
SHORT STORIES, COLOR ILLUSTRATIONS, AND FRONTISPIECES
ARE FINALLY COLLECTED IN ONE DELUXE HARDCOVER!

These classic tales from the 1970s include collaborations with fellow
superstars and Warren Publishing alumni Howard Chaykin, Nicola Cuti,
Bill DuBay, Carmine Infantino, Bruce Jones, Budd Lewis, and Walt
Simonson, as well as several adaptations and original stories written
and drawn by Wrightson during one of the most fruitful periods of his
career! The infamous “Jenifer” is included, as well as Wrightson’s full-
color story “The Muck Monster,” and adaptations of Poe and Lovecraft
classics—such as the unnerving “Cool Air.” This tantalizingly twisted
tome is also topped with a new introduction by Bruce Jones—a perfect
aperitif to begin a hearty repast of horror!

GRAPHIC NOVEL/HORROR DARKHORSE.COM