32 pages. Colour & B&W.
IPC Magazines Ltd.
Cover by Maria Barrera.
Free Lucky Charm bracelet.
Contents:
.2 Ah, there you are! text introduction; illustrated by Shirley Bellwood.
.3 The Cult of the Cat, part one, w: UNKNOWN; a: Honiera Romeu (uncredited).
.8 The Sentinels, part one, w: Malcolm Shaw (uncredited); a: Mario Capaldi (uncredited).
12 Paint it Black, part one, w: Alan Davidson (uncredited); a: Brian Delany (uncredited).
16 Moodstone w: UNKNOWN; a: Ken Houghton (uncredited).
18 Nightmare! Roots w: Pat Mills (uncredited); a: Maria Barrera (uncredited).
22 A Ghost Could Help You Win £25 text feature (half page).
23 Moonchild, part one, w: Pat Mills (uncredited); a: John Armstrong (uncredited).
27 UNTITLED [A blue fish will bring you great happiness] (half page) w: UNKNOWN. a: UNKNOWN / Miss T UNTITLED (quarter page) w:/a: Joe Collins (uncredited).
28 Beasts Red Knee - White Terror! w: Pat Mills (uncredited); a: John Richardson (uncredited).
32 Moodstone cont.
The text introduction to the title from Misty herself is a nice touch, amplified by Shirley Bellwood's atmospheric artwork. Barrera's cover isn't quite up to Bellwood's standard, and is an odd choice - not quite scary enough to signify that Misty is a full-blown horror title, nor bland enough to fit in with other girls titles. An indecisive cover aside, there's no doubt that a horror angle was foremost in the minds of creators.
The Cult of the Cat opens with an incredibly detailed full-page illustration solidly setting it in Egypt. A remarkably courageous way to open a new title, with such a far-flung setting, greatly removed from the lives of most readers. A connection to England is not far away, for young Charmian must bring the chosen girl - a young swimmer - to Egypt in order to fulfill a prophecy... The chosen one must be dressed in the cloak of night, then a ring placed upon her finger. To accomplish her mission Charmian turns into a cat and sets off.
Nothing much actually happens, which is rather unfortunate. On the upside there is some great artwork, which makes up for a moribund pace. It is far too early in the story to tell much of what is happening, but the prophecy angle is unfortunate. Much can be done with them, but often - as here - the result is so po-faced and serious that it is hard to refrain from mockery. So overused is the trope that as soon as a prophecy is given I start looking for loopholes. There is always a loophole. "No man born of woman," and all that...
There's something particularly dark about The Sentinels, even before the twist kicks in. Jan's family is made homeless, though her father tells her not to worry - they can move into a vacant flat in one of the Sentinels, two massive blocks of high-rise flats. Given buildings' reputation she is less than delighted at this news. So they begin searching for a suitable place within the tower, and they discover vandalism throughout lower levels. Higher up there is an apartment which is suitable, and they move in.
Tiger (their pet cat) decides to make a break for freedom at the first opportunity, rushing upstairs to higher levels. While searching for Tiger, Jan encounters her father roaming around with a torch. An effective enough jump scare. When Jan returns to the flat her mother informs her that her father hadn't left the room in all the time she had been gone. Cue spooky music. There is enough tension in the script, and enough hanging threads of mystery waiting to be pulled, that it doesn't feel as slight an opening as it is.
Stories about economic strife will always be contemporary, and even though much of the landscape has changed significantly since this was written, the elements of the story prior to the tower sequence hold up remarkably well to scrutiny.
Paint it Black isn't given a full-page introduction, but evocative artwork and casual dialogue make the characters immediately likable - with the rise of urban exploration and ghost-hunting, I'm sure that there are more people exploring abandoned buildings now that ever before. Delany's depiction of the dilapidated, vandalized, and generally unfit-for-habitation interiors are well-balanced. It isn't so awful that it looks like a Scooby-Doo cartoon, yet there is enough detail to see why the girls find it so spooky.
Maggie finds a box with her initials - M.G. - and decides to take it home. Inside are brushes and paints, Despite not being an artist, she manages to paint a (rather haunting) image of a young woman, and her father suggests there might be money to be made with her talent. This isn't, at first glance, a particularly inspiring story, and the artwork pulls most of the weight in selling the creepy factor.
The colour centre-pages are (appropriately) given over to Moodstone, which is the first of the complete stories. Cathy Salmon purchases a moodstone for 50p from an old woman who is down on her luck, even though she knows it is worth more. Being told that the moodstone is special is no incentive to increase her offer, and she happily wears it to school the next day. Of course, it won't display the colours she wants, but such a quirk is passed off as having to do with body heat or other logical explanations.
This is a horror comic, so you can bet that any explanation isn't so simple.
Helen, a classmate, manages to get the ring to turn a pretty pink colour when she tries it on, enraging Cathy. After the weekend, and another colour emerging from the moodstone, Cathy gets ready for a school party, putting on a dazzling multicolour dress. She runs into Helen again, and slaps her for spilling coke on her dress - the moodstone takes revenge on Cathy for being so mean, and drains all of the colours from her life.
Blatant moralising doesn't necessarily make for good stories, but there's enough incidental elements to help smooth over some rough edges. The final panel, in black and white, is a nice (albeit obvious) trick, and the whole story is wrapped up in three pages, so it doesn't outstay its welcome.
There is a shift of tone with Roots, which prefigures Ramsey Campbell's short story In The Trees eight years later. Dark forests play an important part in myth and folklore, so seeing trees playing a part in the horror fabric of Misty so soon is unsurprising. Jill Trotter's parents are off on tour with a magic act, and she has to stay with her grandfather over the course of the summer. The name of the village? Evergreen.
Jill is surprised that her grandfather can carry her suitcases with ease, and is further shocked at the longevity and vitality of the residents. That night she wakes, seeing someone standing in the field beyond the garden. Passing it off as a scarecrow, she goes back to bed. Investigating the church, she learns that nobody has died in over fifty years, but is distracted from her investigating by a village fete.
The next night she wakes again, and sees the entire village standing outside in the rain. When she confronts her grandfather about the strangeness... Well, the final half-page is one of the highlights of the issue, and is just as surprising in how accomplished and shocking the visual is. If there was any doubt that Misty could hold its own against any number of competing titles, then they ought to be dispelled by such a great resolution.
A heavy Stephen King influence is at play in Moonchild, with Rosemary Black being the stand-in for Carrie White. It doesn't begin with quite as traumatic an event as the opening of Carrie, but Rosemary's mother is just as ultra-religious as Carrie's. The situation is more extreme than King's novel in other ways - there is no electricity in her home, and neighbourhood children scrawl graffiti about her. She does have a friend, who convinces Rosemary to get her hair done in a more modern style.
Things seem to be going well for her until she is the subject of a prank, which is quickly followed by a bookshelf falling on the perpetrator. The one inclusion to the story is the inclusion of a crescent scar on Rosemary's forehead, though her scar doesn't get much play in this issue.
Red Knee - White Terror!, the final story, has less to do with the supernatural and more to do with deep-rooted fears. Andrea Gray buys some bananas at a market stall for her dessert. You know that there's trouble in store when the radio broadcasts a warning about spider bites, but unfortunately Andrea isn't paying much attention to the radio. Deciding to have a bath before dinner, she takes the radio with her to listen to.
Seeing the spider, Andrea panics. Until it turns out to be a cruel joke played on her by her brother. Relaxing in her bath, the real spider makes a move towards her hand. If you are afraid of spiders this will be a terrifying strip, though for others... not so much. That we don't actually see any evidence of the terrible injuries inflicted by the spider lessens the threat level, and it is never stated outright that the spider we see is that which is so desperately warned against.
Misty didn't explode onto the shelves with immediately-horrifying elements, preferring a slow-burn intended to get under the skin of readers. Intriguing characters, mysterious events, and some clever little moments packed into a fairly quick read, this isn't the best issue of the series by far, but as an introduction it works for the most part. The Cult of the Cat doesn't work for me, but it is a question of taste - and, of course, I'm hardly the target audience.
