Psychological | Drama | Hurt/Comfort Upon discovering his now ex-childhood friend isn't dead, an emotionally immature alcoholic tries to make amends for ruining their friendship. CW: Abuse, violence, blood, mental illness, suicidality, bigotry, slurs, self-harm, body horror, implied sexual assault.

A surreal, psychological story concerning a young man choked up by his internal struggles and whose otherworldly fate is brought to light by his Mind-Body Projection.

A grand existential crisis, a surreal Bulgakovian satire, or simply a quiet disaster? We follow Philip on his day off work as he struggles to find meaning and happiness through the everyday decisions that make up a day. Why did he cross that street? Does he keep walking, or shelter from the rain? What will make him happy? And just why is that dog wearing glasses?

A dark comedy exploring the question, "what if every afterlife exists?" Having believed in nothing in life, Clyde must navigate the department of Processing, a bureaucratic agency established to give non-believers another chance at finding eternal bliss.

Life, for the most part, is the product of the decisions you make. For some, a "wrong" decision or two (or more) leads to a crossroads on the other side of the Destiny Gate. Do you fight for a chance to survive and to start anew, or do you succumb to your inner demons and end it all for you and, worse, yours?


When friendships fade and social connections dissolve, the body remembers what the mind tries to forget. This abstract psychological horror explores the visceral panic of profound loneliness—not just being alone, but losing the people who once filled your world. Through stark visual metaphors rendered in near-black blues and blood-red accents, we follow an unnamed protagonist navigating the aftermath of social loss. Empty chairs still hold the warmth of departed friends. Phone messages dissolve into static. Mirrors reflect everything except the viewer. Rain falls inside bedrooms, tracing ribs like pressure maps of internal collapse. As isolation deepens, the body begins its desperate rebellion—heartlines stuttering into flatlines, tinnitus rings compressing reality, shadows reaching out for embraces that can never reach back. The protagonist’s world warps into something alien: street shadows point the wrong direction at noon, windows pulse like heartbeats across small-town darkness, and doorbell rings echo unanswered through frosted glass. This is not a story of recovery or redemption. Instead, it’s an unflinching examination of how loneliness manifests as physical emergency—the body’s primal scream of “save me” when human connection vanishes. Through minimalist visual storytelling and VHS-grain texture that makes each page feel like a fever dream, the work transforms private anguish into shared recognition. The final pages offer not rescue, but acknowledgment: a tiny red pulse on stark white, suggesting that even in our deepest isolation, some essential spark persists—waiting, hoping, enduring. 30 pages of abstract sequential art exploring grief, social loss, and the body’s memory of connection.