One mystery that the Madison Files reveal nothing about is the utter absence of testimony by his own sister, Angela, and her apparent disappearance from the face of the earth.  Pressed to end speculation as to her whereabouts, Fillmore would only say that she married a white African businessman and was constantly traveling in the years after the incident involving her boyfriend, Flagg.  This would seem to be a positive turn of events for Angela, but this makes Fillmore's reluctance to discuss the matter all the more perplexing.  Besides witnessing the death of Flagg by a policeman's gun, Angela had, only a day before, very nearly been one of his victims.  Investigator Madison was one of the witnesses of the attack himself, and after Flagg fled the scene, Angela insisted that the her near strangulation at her boyfriend's hands seemed completely unprovoked.  She stated that his manner was quite confused and contrite before he launched into a mute animal rage, "as if at the push of a button". Fillmore was also witness, along with Angela and Harold, of Flagg's demise.  Sensing the obviously troubled Flagg was in serious danger, the three went in search of him.  Angela and Harold were both uncertain about many events inside the carnival where they found Flagg (and, as noted previously, Fillmore, though he was apparently present, chose to omit his own observations from his report).  Angela would only say that it seemed like something was going on that had nothing to do with Flagg at all.  By this account, Flagg wasn't even party to the climactic rampage attributed to him, a conclusion reinforced by statements of other witnesses at the scene.  In fact, he was described by the few who did see him as being lethargic and disoriented.  In addition, Flagg's face was said to be hideously scarred, an injury the autopsy report listed as "mild abrasions". 
Among the throngs of neighborhood spectators who gathered to watch the police working at the scene the following day was Madison Fillmore.  A cornerstone of his investigative report is his own description of many curious items that were carted away from the scene on a paddy-wagon, including two large vats that seemed to be leaking a highly caustic liquid, and all which that observation led to.  One officer received medical treatment at the scene after getting some of the substance on his hands, which he inadvertently rubbed into his eyes.  Seemingly blinded by this acid, the officer was quickly taken away in an ambulance.  This made Fillmore think of the scars on Flagg's face, which resembled acid burns.  That might have been the end of it, but Fillmore noted that inquiries about the officers health in the days that followed were met with increasing grimness and evasion.  The officer did not return to work.  Fillmore eventually contacted a sister of the officer and was told that though he quickly recovered from his injuries, he had been released from duty for erratic behavior, and he was ultimately institutionalized.  When Fillmore wrote an article for the local newspaper requesting a thorough investigation into the matter, several other witnesses were prompted to step forward stating that they had come into contact with the poison that day as well, and were convinced they were slowly losing their minds.  The authorities were evidently furious about being implicated in a cover-up, and dismissed all involved as being nothing more than local crack-pots.  Fillmore cited this as the real origin of his study of the events of the Blood Carnival, in order to defend his reputation.
But before long a convoluted mythology had evolved from his research that served to capture the public imagination.  Rumors circulated that the not only had the vat of poison been removed from Madame Estrella's own residence but that the mystery assailants of the dance-hall rampage weren't merely costumed associates of hers, but captives who had somehow effected an escape.  Rather than being "part of the act", these individuals were witnessed brutally attacking bystanders.  And is it possible that they weren't wearing masks at all, but exhibited effects of facial acid-burning like Flagg, only more advanced?  Estrella, Ortega and what would come to be called their "zombies" would become part of local urban myth; a bedtime tale to frighten children.  A 1973 issue of Fate magazine included a summery of the Madison Files, along with amazing new claims that Fillmore himself might not have dared to repeat.  It was there that reports first appeared that the bodies of the so-called zombies were in the possession of the military, and that the poison was being studied for use in Vietnam.  Countering this assertion is the theory that the poison originated from the war department, who had arranged the cover-up to conceal their involvement in the tragedy.
The investigations and stories of the Blood Carnival incident raise more and more questions as the years go by, and don't begin to answer a single one.  The carnival itself never reopened (for reasons not strictly related to the murders) and the surviving carneys that inhabited it evidently sought employment at other carnivals, minus the phantasmic gypsies Estrella, Ortega and Carmelita, whose whereabouts are still unknown.  A network of tunnels was reportedly discovered below the carnival, and then sealed off, along with whatever secrets might be contained there.
But one final footnote was added to the Madison Files after Fillmore died in a car-accident in 1979, and it was a bomb-shell.  A good friend of Fillmore announced to the press that Fillmore had witnessed more of the scene at the carnival on the day of the dance-hall rampage than he'd ever written about.  From the beginning, according to this revelation, Fillmore had abetted the cover-up of his own story.  At the request of Madison's mother, he had promised not to speak of anything he'd seen that was beyond the boundaries of the rational.  Fillmore allegedly confided in this friend that he not only saw the bodies of Estrella and Ortega, but saw one of the "zombies" before it was shot by the police.  Fillmore offered various excuses to friends for this self-imposed silence.  For one, he'd witnessed the shooting of Flagg by a policeman, in a clear case of excessive force.  He didn't want to suffer the same fate, implying that he wondered if Flagg had been shot to silence him.  Also, his mother, a local socialite, simply didn't believe a word of it, and feared for her standing in the community if her own son were seen talking to the press about zombies and gypsy sorcery.  Fillmore admitted that after he found out that the bodies had simply disappeared, and were absent from the police report entirely, he started questioning just what he did see.  Madison's sister was reportedly withdrawn after the experience, unwilling to discuss the strangest of the events, and soon went off to college where she met her future husband.  Conversely, it was rumored that Madison's mother had a strong personal disdain for free-wheeling Flagg, and accepted the police reports that he was responsible for all of the murders.  After all, she had seen Flagg try to strangle her own daughter.  If true, Fillmore had the answers to many of his questions from the outset.  But how could any of it be true, and who would believe it?  Who would dare to?

Written and Illustrated by Steve Ring, 2007


The Incredibly Strange Creatures who Stopped Living and became Mixed-Up Zombies was one of about half a dozen titles for a weird horror flick that was among those I first saw on Shock Theater back in the early '70s.  Actually, I don't remember any of it aside from the opening sequence which, by way of a series of crude illustrations, showed star Cash Flagg's face disintegrating.  In truth, I seem to remember I was too disturbed by it as a kid to watch the rest of the movie.
I wonder what I would have thought of it if I'd dared to watch.  Unquestionably, I wouldn't have been scared.  The movie is anything but scary.  It seems to be the crowning work of schlock movie-maker Ray Dennis Steckler, which is Cash Flagg's real name, but it's too silly and erratic to be regarded as a serious work of horror cinema, although it's widely regarded as a dreadful work of experimental cinema and rival to the title popularly bestowed upon Plan 9 from Outer Space.  But that's what I love.  And I enjoy this movie, though I'd be ashamed to recommend it to anyone lacking my unusual tastes in film.  It's just bad.  Bad acting, bad writing, bad make-up effects, and loads of bad musical dance numbers, which the horror genre isn't generally  known for.  It has to be seen to be believed.  Or believed to be seen, even.
I originally revisited the movie when it appeared on Mystery Science Theater 3000, which is the version I would recommend to fans of that show.  A couple of years ago a "41st Anniversary" edition was released by Guilty Pleasures which features the widescreen version with commentaries by writer/producer/director/star Ray Dennis Steckler and movie critic Joe Bob Briggs.

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