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Stolen Latch Worm - Page 07

November 11, 2016

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Flesh Pit of Horror and Lust

----- This was a comic book practice before the making of a marketable story. It was quite fun making it. The new resolution I have about it had me making this like it's an 8 hours a day full-time job for 3 weeks, and then I had to stretch out a couple of weeks with how many hours I can spend because I had to get a job to pay the bills and etc. Feedback is appreciated, such as what I have done well, how I may improve, more ideas, and general thoughts.

Webbed Exterminator

The exterminator explored the forest to test her suit’s capacity. Although unassuming in its skin-tight appearance, the minimalistic thickness of it and the design of the fiber protected her well against scratches from the branches while allowing her unobstructed mobility. Not only that, the round and open helmet allowed her to see all kinds of information about her surroundings when it came to lifeforms it detected, a useful tool when it comes to finding bugs nesting in the house walls and keeping her from breathing toxic spray when eliminating resilient insects. While it was entertaining to find out how many things were living in this forest, she noticed an anomaly somewhere underground before her. A huge heat signature, the size of a large car. She walked closer to it to examine what it was. Then the wet forest floor collapsed. She initially thought it was just a little padded soil, not putting much fight to it. But it turned out to be the roof of a cave system. She fell

Living-Room

There was an unusual bonus for this house sitting job thanks to her computer engineering degree. The owner was particularly adamant about the security and wanted someone who could handle the rather obscene amount of techs guarding the otherwise mundane house. She didn’t think much of it. Her excitement was more about a well-paid vacation to a beach-side town for a couple of weeks and a quieter space to read the books she found in the local library, some of which included paranormal erotica. They were delightful reminders of the cultural differences from her home. The owner only requested not to open one door in the living room. The one without any window. On the third morning, waking up groggy and dehydrated from the night before, she flailed around and went for the closest door to her bedroom, the door that was not to be opened. A mass of living flesh filled the entire entrance, perhaps the entire room behind it. The heat dispersed from it made her reel. Thoug

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Stolen Latch Worm - Page 07

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