jueves, 15 de junio de 2017

Practicing the Jack Kirby Style

Jack Kirby style - Texture of aged paper...
Jack Kirby style - Color volume...
Jack Kirby style - Flat color...
Ink on pencils by Jack Kirby...
Jack Kirby style - Layers...
Jack Kirby style - Texture of aged paper...
Jack Kirby style - Color volume...

lunes, 2 de enero de 2012

Sweet Wolf

Revista Digital miNatura - Promo LICANTROPÍA y otras transformaciones

A very heartbreaking marvellous history...! GGrrr...!!!!

Sweet Wolf
By ~gliovampire

he first time I had the dream, I woke up in a cold sweat. Then the little one cried and I hurried to see what was wrong. I forgot all about the dream and I'd probably never have thought of it again- it was but a nightmare; nothing like your home getting burned or having the little one at the hospital, right? But it came back. Not every night but too often to be ignored. It was always the same dream, like a movie scene that is repeated or a song you play over and over again: I was in a long corridor lined with mirrors. I had a strong feeling that something was threatening me; I HAD to pass the corridor without looking at the mirrors. It was dark so walking without watching the mirrors wasn't too difficult. There was a dim bluish light at the end of the corridor. Anxious, I kept walking toward the light. I was attracted to it like moths are to flames and even more; the light seemed to be CALLING to me. When I got there, I saw a narrow room and there she was: a kind of she-werewolf. As soon as she saw me she grinned baring her sharp teeth; she stared at me with those piercing eyes of hers, she advanced one step toward me. Her orange hair was shinning in the darkness. I was terrified; I wanted to scream but no voice came out of my mouth, I wanted to run, but my feet were unable to move. She was holding a little teddy bear by the hand. She was probably going to harm it; she will eventually tear it in pieces. I wanted to overcome my fear and help the little thing, but I am powerless. Her eyes turn blue, then red then black and I became convinced she would tear me in pieces too. I woke up and I wanted to scream, but I didn't. I couldn't do this, I'd wake the little one and he'd be frightened. So I bit my lips till they bled staying motionless in the darkness, sweating, my heart pounding in my chest like a wounded bird fluttering to escape a cruel hunter. 
In the daylight, I tried not to think about my bewitched nights. My job is to clean houses and offices, it's exhausting. Back at home I've got a lot to do and the little one needs too much care and I've got to watch it all the time. There's no room for whimsies in my day. But in the night.... the orange-haired she-werewolf was always standing at the end of the corridor, waiting for me. Holding the teddy bear by the hand, she locked her eyes on mine and she scared the hell out of me. I spent more and more sleepless nights to avoid her. Absentmindedly, I was watching whatever was on TV on those late hours while torturing my brain to figure out what the nightmare means. I couldn’t get it never mind how hard I tried.  As soon as my eyes closed, I saw the werewolf woman's face; then I jerked and struggled to remain awake. I drunk so much coffee that my stomach ached, I played solitaire until my eyes became red and ached. This couldn't go on this way. Spending so many nights sleepless would ruin me. I'd probably lose my job. I'd also be sick and I couldn't afford this- who'd watch the little one? Day-care's only open until 15h00 and my only good friend has three kids of her own.
I tried to get help to interpret the dream. Maybe understanding it could help me face it and even stop it. The doctor said it's normal; I'm a single working mother. I'm stressed and tired. He added other things, but I didn't like what he told me - it sounded like I'd be happy to get rid of my kid. I could not accept this; I love the little one, I really do. I don't think I would be able to live without him. I could not afford to go and see one doctor after another. I'd got neither money nor time for this. Then I thought of this woman living a few blocks away from home. She's some sort of a fortune teller, but not an ordinary one. I've heard she uses bird feathers and butterflies to tell the future and flower petals to explain dreams. Don't ask me how it works, I've got no clue. But after I'd spent three sleepless nights and two more nights of bad sleep because of the nightmare, I would accept help from a demon in Hell provided he didn't tell me I wanted to harm my kid or get rid of him. So I took the little one with me and off we went to the flower witch. We never reached her place, though.
I was half way to her home when three men blocked my way. They were tall, well built and their faces were hidden by fox masks. I stopped terrified, I could hardly breathe. Now, this was bad luck: the men were out of the Fox Gang. This was one of the worse outlaw bands in our ghetto. They were accused of all the criminal activities you can imagine ranging from murders and robberies to black market adoption, organ trafficking and even providing children and virgins to religious sects for human sacrifices. Two men stood in front of me barring my way. The third one advanced toward me and pointed a gun at me.
“Give me the kid.”
“No.” I pressed the little one on my breast staring at him in terror.
“C’mon, ma’am. Give the kid and you may go in peace. We won’t harm you.”
At this point, the argument was over. I am nothing like a warrior woman; I am small and thin and three ruthless armed fox-gangsters were threatening me. Any attempt of resistance would result in a disaster leaving me seriously wounded in the best case, dead in the worse case and they’d take my kid anyway. I should be panicked and scream or feeling paralyzed and stunned with terror. But nothing of all this happened.
All of a sudden, something strange happened to me; it was as if I was… transformed. I turned into a wild beast and a giant at the same time. The three outlaws with their fox masks seemed like cartoon characters to me. I wasn’t more scared than a panther facing a mouse.
I thought that all this only happened into my head; it was just a reaction to stress. But then two things happened: I opened my mouth and a beastly, terrifying roar came out of it. The gangster who pointed his gun at me screamed and the two others stood there staring at me in horror, unable to move. One of them tried to shoot me, but before he had time to do anything, I jumped. I did this as easily as a wild feline, holding tightly the little one in my arms. Then I don’t know what happened exactly; the next thing I remember is that I sat on the ground stroking the little one who was crying. Two of the gangsters were dead; one of them had been shot, the other one was beheaded and his body was torn in pieces. The third one was wounded as though a wild animal had attacked him. He was unconscious but still breathing. His injuries were serious. I don’t think he‘d ever been able to harm anyone any more even if he ever was healed.
I rose on my feet and I headed back at home murmuring a song to reassure him.

Later on that night, I was sitting on my bed with the little one sleeping beside me. In the darkness, I was thinking of what had happened with the Fox Gang. There probably was a rational explanation; people say that sometimes when you are in danger you use parts of your brain that are usually inactive. The theory was fine; it could have brought peace in my mind, but… somehow I knew that this wasn’t the right explanation.
Hard as it may seem to believe, I had turned into a were-beast to defend my child.
This wasn’t ordinary either: in the movies and in werewolf stories, people turn into beasts under the full moon and then they kill people. I checked the calendar and it was a moonless period.
I smiled in the darkness, trying hard not to burst into a wild laughter. Werewolves don’t exist for God’s sake! They’re only legends, fantasies, movie inventions…
I was so tired that my eyes closed and I fell asleep. And I had the dream again, but this time it’s different. I’m walking in the corridor lined with mirrors, but now I stop to look at the mirror. It is not my reflection that appears there. The image is like those that depict the Madonna holding her Holy Child. Only here on the mirror, the orange haired werewolf woman is holding protectively the teddy bear in her arms.
I am not afraid any more because now I’ve finally figured out what the dream means and I know who the terrifying woman is. I give her a smile and staring at me with her piercing gaze, she winks knowingly at me.
I am at peace with my weird and scary dark side. My little one will never be in danger. I’ll always protect it.

martes, 20 de diciembre de 2011

The lady of my nightmares


Writer: Sissy Pantelis
Art: Komixmaster

Never mind how much I tried, the lady kept grinning and said nothing. But then a man wrote; he asked to remain anonymous and he explained the story of the lady on the image. It is a weird story. Here is what he wrote: "I love my wife. Seriously, I do. She is brilliant and beautiful and kind and I think that she'd deserve better than a loser like me. All I've got is this dull paper work in my dark office and my dull colleagues. I'm not rich. I've got no hopes for promotion. I'm even not a handsome guy. My wife's love is the best thing that happened to me. I'm happy with her, I never cheated on her. OK, you get the picture: I'm faithful to my wife, I'm in love with her. But then this girl showed up in the office; she was the boss's new assistant. When I saw her, I felt my blood become hot, my heart went mad. I couldn't take my eyes off of her. It was the same with all the guys in the office. She stared at me and she gave me that smile and I thought I would faint. I felt like an idiot. I'm a grown up man, I'm happily married. I'm not supposed to have this kind of reaction. I resumed my work...In the night, I've been dreaming of her. It was one of THOSE dreams, you know what I mean. The ones I should only have about my wife, but then those damned dreams won't ask your opinion...I the dream, the girl drove me crazy; I was acting like a primate, like a beast. And then, of a sudden, she changed . She transformed into the freak you see in the image. Obviously, she gave me the creeps, I wanted to shout, I wanted to run away. But I couldn't run, I couldn't even breathe. But you know the worse part? The chick had turned into a freak, she scared the crap out of me, but even so...I still wanted her. My desire was so strong I thought my head would explode. I spent a passionate night of love and fear with the freak. The next night she came back. And the night after too. My nights were hell, my days were like a nightmare. I asked to be transferred and they accepted. My new office is almost the same as the previous one, but I'd not expected something better. i just wanted to be far from HER. Since I'm transferred, things get better. I still have the dreams sometimes, but I have them less. I spend the nights with my lovely wife. I've got no clue what happened. Maybe I had those dreams out of guilt for my wife. Sometimes, I think that the woman was some evil entity, one of those demons who get in your dreams and they possess you and you can't get rid of them. Whatever it is, I'm getting better and I'm faithful to my lovely, wonderful wife. Dreams don't count as cheating, they're only whimsies, night ghosts. Now, you know what? Sometimes, I DO miss her. The freak. The demon. The intense things she made me feel. Cause I'm an ordinary guy, not much interesting stuff happens in my life. Apart from my wife falling in love with me. And the demon who made me taste the fiery passion in my dreams. It was flame, it was thunder, it was madness. It tasted like Hell."

jueves, 8 de septiembre de 2011

Ilustración - El Hombre de Diamante

Ilustración para el relato de Magnus Dagon, El Hombre de Diamante, publicado en Planetas Prohibidos, 3, 2.11.2011.