Paneling: Ghosts #105

Not sure what brought it to mind, but there was an image that flashed – to the very limited extent to which images do – in my mind of a panel that’s, well, haunted me for decades.

Honestly, there are several panels – as well as just the story itself – that have haunted me, but there’s one in particular that has always stood out, and it comes from the cover story in this comic.

My copy, which I most likely acquired in late 1981 or early 1982, didn’t have the cover, as I got it in a mystery pack, which is a shame, as it’s a great cover that doesn’t exactly align with the events of the story but is certainly evocative.

The story, titled “Honeymoon in Hell” by Robert Kanigher and Fred Carrillo is a fairly simple one, but there’s just a lot of sadness and memorable imagery associated with it that caused it to be burned into my brain however many years ago I first read it.

There’s also a bit of family history that I won’t get into here that made the story feel particularly relevant to me.

In 1734, a young, orphaned Sicilian woman named Serafina falls for the charms of a handsome lieutenant in the occupying Spanish army.

As they canoodle in a cemetery under the watchful eyes of a statue of the Angel of Death, the lieutenant – Armand – vows that they will be wed the next day, and Serafina vows that she will love Armand “beyond Death itself!”

Alas, when the next day arrives and Serafina shows up in the wedding gown she stitched together with whatever scraps she could find in the orphanage, her little brother Pietro in tow, she learns that when Armand promised they would be wed it was just what we call pillow talk, baby, and that the pre-game lovemaking that happened the day before was the only honeymoon she was going to get.

She doesn’t take it well.

The panels that follow are among the many that have stuck with me through the years as we follow Serafina’s path down from the balcony to the unforgiving rocks far below, ending with a view of her bloody corpse and tattered gown.

Her brother attempts to avenge her, but is no match for Armand, who swats the boy aside and stops short of running him through.

At the base of the mountain, Pietro cradles his sister’s lifeless body and swears he will not forget.

Years later, Armand returns to the village, having achieved a higher rank and gained the hand of the daughter of the wealthy Don Lucci.

At Serafina’s grave, Pietro, now nearly a man, vows that Armand will not live through his wedding night.

Alas, Pietro is not up to the task of avenging his beloved sister and this time Armand doesn’t stop short, but as he dies, he has some last words for Armand.

After Pietro dies, the earth begins to shake so violently that the mansion in which Armand had planned to spend his wedding night begins to collapse.

He and his bride escape, but it’s no safer outside, as the whole town is shaking as if it were the end of the world. Armand leads her to high ground in the cemetery, near the statue under whose gaze he stole Serafina’s virtue.

Though the ground has stopped shaking, the statue topples over and separates him from his bride, with Armand callously disregarding the fact that she was nearly crushed by the Angel of Death.

But dodging the statue leads him to a reminder of the sins of his past.

Once more, the ground begins to shake, and Serafina’s grave opens, revealing her moldering remains – still wearing her torn and tattered gown – waiting to embrace her beloved, and causing Armand to fall into her waiting arms.

He demands that she let him go, but that just leads us to the panel that popped into my head, the fourth panel on the 9th page.

With that, the ground closes up, and Serafina is at last reunited with her beloved.

Forever.

Like I said, it’s a simple little story, but it’s managed to stick with me in part because I just felt so sad for poor Serafina, and also because of the gruesome imagery of that panel and, as mentioned, the page in which we follow Serafina down to her death.

I mean, just look at it.

It’s great work from Carillo, who I’m sure I must have encountered many times without having his name register in my memory even though his work in this story definitely did.

It’s a clever layout that’s beautifully rendered – I like the way the panels depicting her fall shrink to indicate her progress down – that is also incredibly brutal.

The torn and tattered gown is, in its own way, more horrifying than her bloody and battered face.

And then there’s that panel. I think it’s the fragments of skin still clinging to her bones as desperately as she clings to Armand that really got to nine-year old me and caused the panel to stay with me all these years.

It’s also kind of…understated for a Kanigher story. I’m honestly surprised by how straightforward it is.

Anyway, I hope Serafina is finally happy and at peace, and I’m glad that cad Armand is very much not.

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