In Jakarta, space is a luxury. But in this house, you’re never truly alone. Searching for a fresh start, Zerra finds a dirt-cheap room in the heart of Jakarta’s narrowest alley. But as the walls begin to whisper and a mysterious eye watches his every move from the room next door, he realizes that some rents are paid in blood. A chilling dive into urban madness where the shadows don't just hide—they hunt.

Spin Off de Thanatopsis, Inc. centrado en mostrarnos la atención a clientes desde su recepción.

Algo no encaja. Y cuanto más lo busca… menos entiende. Original work by CoDeX. All rights reserved.

Identifier is a psychological thriller/drama about a Greek immigrant in Denmark, suspected to be as a Masked Vigilante Firestarter.

Anthology of Structural Horrors Synopsis: What remains of a place when human beings abandon it? THE STRUCTURES OF OBLIVION is an anthology of five graphic stories that explore the terror that seeps through the cracks of what was once functional. Through a narrative that blends psychological horror with the paranormal, each 12-page story immerses the reader in a decaying environment where buildings are not just the backdrop, but hungry entities. From the oppressive solitude of a period hotel to the alienating geometry of a ruined industrial complex, the work examines the thin line between urban curiosity and the complete loss of sanity. The protagonists—urban explorers, the homeless, or mere passersby—face situations where physical space is distorted to reflect their deepest traumas. In these structures, the echo is not just an acoustic phenomenon, but the manifestation of something that should never have been awakened. Esteban Díaz

This graphic novel uses the mirror motif to unfold a multi-layered and unsettling reflection on loss, trauma, and the different truths that can be concealed within fairy tales.

Jan Manson awakes in a land of fog and creped cold as he seeks refuge from the blinding fog with recurring glimpses of memories of who he was before awakening to this barren wasteland. The mist and the monsters within the encounters he face represent the inner struggles he refuses to acknowledge.

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.