A folklorish mystery set in the Carpathian Mountains in 1952. When a group of Italian nuns cross the continent to re-claim a convent previously abandoned by their own. They find themselves questioning what happened to the nuns that came before them as a young novice is swept up in a strange world where nothing is quite what it seems.

While an entire planet ends up getting eaten up by Blackmore this graphic novel focuses on a few friends who are also the habitants of that planet try to uncover the mysteries that caused their planet to turn into this dystopian nightmare.We follow this group of now turned outcasts. Encountering panic-stricken moments, as the story unfolds an age old urban legend and how his supposed presense has led to the this abomination. While they are on their journey, they also check off few list from the list of desires from their checklist.

Shifting between the everyday and the surreal, A City Inside recounts one woman’s life from her childhood home, to the first love that she will never forget, to the creation of the idea of herself that she can grow old with and the home that she can grow old in.

Shangguan's warm and lyrical narratives capture fleeting moments and sensations; while her shifting perspectives take in all of existence from the emptiness of space to the intimacy of human interactions. A contemplative journey that explores how it feels to be alive. Karen is an illustrator from Vancouver, Canada who enjoys drawing quiet things such as thoughts, feelings, and sensations. She graduated from Emily Carr University in 2016 with a BFA in illustration.

When 80% of the human race starts migrating to a single point on the globe, failing medical student Rudy Deckart sets out across the disintegrating US to rescue his girlfriend, become a doctor, confront a murderous militia using the migration to start a new world order, and find a cure for the migration impulse that will save, or maybe destroy, humanity.

Featuring work from the likes of Tim Bird, Owen D. Pomery, EdieOP, Luke Halsall and Ricky Miller, this anthology series collects together stories about Alfred Hitchcock, the Silver Age of comics, some cute creatures and the adventures of some eccentric naturalists.

A graphic novel I wrote a few years ago. It was originally based on a dream I had, and then turned into a kind of absurd drama.

Internal Wilderness is part of an ongoing project looking at 'landscape and memory' - our relationship with the environment, effects we have on the world and space around us and in turn it's profound affect on our own memory and emotions. Each of these landscapes is a starting point to a much bigger adventure that strives to answer the question of what lays beyond the horizon.

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.