Page 6 of a comic about a peculiar evil eye bracelet! I’m Jaime Mosquera, a Latinx nonbinary comic artist and illustrator who loves body horror and birds! You can find more of my work and tip me here:
Our posts are 100% Patreon funded! If you want to see early posts, full resolution art, and WIPs, please consider supporting us on Patreon!
Page 5 of a comic about a peculiar evil eye bracelet! I’m Jaime Mosquera, a Latinx nonbinary comic artist and illustrator who loves body horror and birds! You can find more of my work and tip me here:
Our posts are 100% Patreon funded! If you want to see early posts, full resolution art, and WIPs, please consider supporting us on Patreon!
Page 4 of a comic about a peculiar evil eye bracelet! I’m Jaime Mosquera, a Latinx nonbinary comic artist and illustrator who loves body horror and birds! You can find more of my work and tip me here:
Our posts are 100% Patreon funded! If you want to see early posts, full resolution art, and WIPs, please consider supporting us on Patreon!
Page 3 of a comic about a peculiar evil eye bracelet! I’m Jaime Mosquera, a Latinx nonbinary comic artist and illustrator who loves body horror and birds! You can find more of my work and tip me here:
Our posts are 100% Patreon funded! If you want to see early posts, full resolution art, and WIPs, please consider supporting us on Patreon!
Page 2 of a comic about a peculiar evil eye bracelet!
Page 1 of a comic about a peculiar evil eye bracelet!
We’ve all heard the stories. Books that change as you read them, predicting the future or inserting you as a character. But, what if that was true? At least, the changing as you were reading them part? Aaron Reed, author of the upcoming novel Subcutanean, has figured out a way to do just that.
A novel where no two copies are the same. Each reader gets a unique experience which means there are infinite possibilities and interpretations. GenderTerror had the chance to speak to Aaron about the concept, complications, his history with video games, and the switch from games to novels.
Continue reading “Not Quite the Same: An Interview with the Author of Subcutanean, Aaron Reed”
“Do you hear that behind me? Sounds like…a dog singing heavy metal?“
What a smell, am I right? Hellhounds stinking up the block and setting off car alarms, all to protect nearby graveyards and ghosts. Seems to me that they’d be safer without all the snarling and smoke. I’m Ari, an agender writer/illustrator that loves skull dogs, spears and sad stories. You can find me posting dumb doodles on twitter and getting into trouble at your local gas station.
Our posts are 100% Patreon funded! If you want to see early posts, full resolution art, and WIPs, please consider supporting us on Patreon!
It’s that time of year again! Pumpkins, ghosts, goblins, werewolves. All manner of spooky creatures, books, movies, music, etc. to celebrate the time of the year dedicate to horror!
To celebrate the best season, the best month, and the best holiday, we’re holding a raffle.
CW: Incest, assault, abuse.
Hurricane Aaron is a film about brothers in tragedy. J.R. Howell’s first feature film takes viewers on a series of twists and turns that may leave some queasy, but thoroughly intrigued about the psyche, and rage, of its main characters, Aaron and Cory. There is more than just horror that lurks under the skin of this film. GenderTerror had a chance to interview the director, writer, and score creator, J.R. Howell about his psychosexual thriller and other upcoming projects.
GenderTerror: Why horror, especially queer horror?
J.R. Howell: My first horror movie ever was A Nightmare On Elm Street, which I saw when I was five years old. I love the thrill that horror movies provide. As I grew older, I similarly fell in love with the science fiction genre. One of the things so attractive about science fiction is the social commentary it provides through allegory or speculation. Truly great science fiction can be mind-blowing in that way. Lately, mainstream science fiction feels like it’s lost its soul and offers up action movies in space with tacky tech without really having any deeper meaning. Films like this seem to be evolving cinema to a medium without narrative. Yet, at the same time, horror is picking up the slack. Over the last few years, we’re seeing films marketing as “high concept horror.” Of course the truth is almost all horror is in some way “high concept.” Nevertheless, some horror films have taken a more overt approach to directly assert their attempt at social commentary, which is an astonishing effort when you think about it. Many criticisms of mega budget films that go on to tremendous financial success is that they’re too devoid of meaning so as to appeal to the widest audience as possible across countries and cultures. Yet, there’s a subgenre of horror that’s openly asserting that its making social critiques, come what may. I absolutely love that courage. So for these reasons I wanted to take on the social issues referred to in the film using horror.
“Odysseus is mad.”
Eurylochus leaned in on his bow until only Elpenor could hear him. They hovered near a lighted torch on the furthest side of their beach camp. From where they were, Elpenor saw the great blue eyes of their ship peaking out from the water, which looked oily so deep into the night. On their other side, he only saw dim shadows in the dark wood.
“He misses home,” said Elpenor, himself leaning in, although he kept his back straight. “And he’s kept us alive.”
“By fighting a giant we had no business bothering?” Eurylochus challenged. He looked back at Elpenor from under a headband and dark-brown curls. “Now we’re stranded on this island, and more of us go missing every day. He swears there’s a witch.”
Elpenor’s brows arched downwards, his fine mouth settling into a frown. The woods beyond stayed quiet, and far enough away not to hide listening ears. “You don’t believe him.”
Eurylochus checked behind them to confirm that the men at the bonfire were still distracted. They did. Men sat languidly around the fire, telling tales and cooking meat until their watch. The boat remained quiet, the soft waves rocking it peacefully. “I don’t believe one way or another. I know I took a small group of men into the woods, and we found nothing but vines and wild sows.”
“No boars?”
“Well,” Eurylochus began, “As far as I can tell, there’s not a stag, bull, or stud among them.”
“Odysseus came back with a stag not long ago,” Elpenor added.
“But have you seen any? In the wild?” Continue reading “Circe’s Boars”
the final page of a story of a moth prophet, her adoptive parent, and her father.
GenderTerror 