Tag Archives: horror
Inktober – On Time p3
I’m just so excited to actually be making a comic. This never happens! It’s kind of a breakthrough for me. I haven’t seriously drawn anything more than one page before. Learning lots, and taking any inked pages I can get.
I think I’ll do some washes to shade it after I finish all the panels. That’ll be fun.
On an unrelated note, I watched Vampire’s Kiss tonight. What a ridiculous and hilarious and wonderful and terrible movie. Nicolas Cage is really… something else.
Inktober – On Time comic, p2 (14) and Thank you card (13)
I’ve skipped some days of Inktober but I don’t care. Type B here. They say the type A plants the roses, the type B stops to smell them. In the same vein, it’s not about what you accomplish with the ink… it’s about sniffing it. *falls over*
Page 2 of On Time. See page 1 here.
Also, here’s a little thank you card I drew for a friend who gave us such a nice dinner I felt like we should be nice back.
We both have cats that eat our houseplants, so it seemed appropriate.
HAPPY MONDAY! ❤
Inktober – On Time – 1
The first page of what I hope will become a little five or six page horror story. Wish me gumption.
Housesitting
Checking up on my friend’s house while he was on vacation, I did a quick walk through, tweaking the thermostat, flushing the toilets.
As I was poking through the fridge for expired items, movement caught the corner of my eye. Something white on the kitchen floor. Before I could focus my attention on it, it had already slipped through the archway.
I followed to investigate, but it was no longer there. Perhaps it was my imagination.
No, there it was again! Going into the bedroom. It looked like the hem of someone’s dress.
Panic gripped me by the neck. There was no one else here. Not one sound but the abnormally audible ticking of the kitchen clock.
Hesitantly, I followed it into the bedroom.
And just saw the edge of it going into the bathroom.
There was nowhere left for it to go now.
Bracing myself for… I don’t know what, my hands shaking, I forced my weak legs to follow after it.
I rounded the corner and saw a woman in a white wedding dress standing before the mirror. She was taking down her old-fashioned hairstyle, removing hairpin after hairpin from her chestnut locks.
I blinked, and she was gone.
Before, I was shaking from fear. Now I was shivering from the unnatural cold that sank straight into my bones. I could see my breath.
Nope.
Rushing back through the house, I grabbed my purse and left through the front door, pausing to lock it behind me with trembling hands. I’d accidentally left my water bottle in there, but I wasn’t going back.
I texted my friend. “You don’t need a housesitter,” I typed. “Someone is already staying here. You can keep your $50!”
Sarah D. Silvey 