Paranatural
A story about superpowered middle schoolers fighting evil spirits in their rural hometown. Come for the ghost jokes, stay for the cast, the creatures, and the mystery that ties them all together!
New comic! Today's News: Hello, dear readers! You can support Paranatural on Patreon or with a one-time donation on Ko-fi! Also, hey! Remember how you guys helped make the Eightfold plush real? Well... what if something else was ALREADY real? Stay tuned for next week: That's all I'll say for now! Thanks for reading! :^) ~ [Transcript] “Well, well, WELL!†creaked the Vice Principal, hitting each repeated “well†much like a hammer would a nail that killed its loved ones. “What do we have here?!†“EEP!†peeped Isaac. “HOLY GOD,†cried Max, continuing his streak of impromptu religiosity. “INCORRECT. You’re about as far from correct as you COULD be, in fact, Mr. Puckett,†Devilora sneered with impish glee, intruding further on the airspace of the gathered middle schoolers. She’d appeared without warning, out of the blue and out of place, like a zerg rush suddenly cresting the hill of a well-known painting’s picturesque horizon. Even Johnny looked a little bit surprised, though he was too used to life in her looming shadow to be properly unnerved. “What I see are three naughty children gathering before school to CONSPIRE! TELL ME that my AGING EYES deceive me—that’s an ORDER!†“...Your... aging eyes... deceive you?†Max cautiously complied. “RUDE! DETENTION FOR RUDENESS!†She jabbed a digit towards Isaac and Johnny. “AND YOU TWO! DETENTION FOR DISOBEDIENCE! I GAVE YOU AN ORDER!†“N-now, now, Devilora...†came a meek voice from behind her. Principal Pleezdoo tiptoed shyly into view. “We’re a long way from the middle school and the, er... broad authority that you enjoy there. That you, erm, really, really enjoy there.†“...Your name is Devilora?†Max asked, honing in on one star in the constellation of absurdity surrounding him. “That’s VICE PRINCIPAL to YOU,†hissed Devilora. “...But Lora to my friends, and Devi when my ex-husband was feeling lovey-dovey.†Max nearly wretched. This was poisonous knowledge, like learning the name of a big squid that hated you in a cosmic horror story. “In any case, Devi, d-detention is a punishment reserved for oopsy-daisies made at school, dear—†stammered Principal Pleezdoo. “An excellent point, Miss Posy,†Devilora said. “To normal jail, then.†“...Oh, you—you kidder, you. H-hello there, children,†Principal Pleezdoo cringed, erroneously hoping that ignoring the Vice Principal would help to curb her autocratic rampage. “So lovely to bump into you boys outside my office. Goodness knows I never want to see a student inside it! Erm, n-not that my door isn’t open BEFORE you, er... pull a fire alarm to ‘add dramatic tension’ to a food fight...†Principal Pleezdoo glanced at Johnny. “Your door wouldn’t open at all when we were tryin’ to TP your desk last week, PP,†said Johnny. “Had to pick the lock. But the pen we used got stuck so we just hit it with a chair.†“That’s not—†Principal Pleezdoo shut her eyes just like her therapist had taught her. “Okay.†“That’s not okay,†Isaac agreed, trying and failing to push Johnny under the bus. The bully was too dense to budge... and Devilora, normally prepared to punish any and all bus-related shenanigans, was distracted by something high above her on the ceiling of the Corner Shore. Principal Pleezdoo noticed first, following her gaze up to its target. “...Hm? Devilora, dear, is, er... is everything all right?†Max and Isaac, who could have witnessed what entranced her, had looked too late to notice PJ phasing back up through the floor. The little ghost had gotten curious, and thought to peek at Max below... but then that creepy lady had stared straight into his eyes! Could she have seen him? And why on earth did she look so familiar...? “We sell snacks, ma’am,†Max suggested. “You don’t have to hunt for house flies if you’re hungry.†“...A spider doesn’t hunt,†grinned Devilora, stroking the crooked curve of her prominent chin. “She simply waits... and all the yummy morsels come to her.†“I’m not surprised that you’re attracting flies but I’m not sure you should brag about it,†Max quipped, but his joke fell on deaf ears. What a valuable excursion this had been! So that poor scamp was still—well, Devilora wouldn’t say ALIVE... but even then, how fortunate! Within her host, the Witch was grinning even wider. What a tangled web fate weaved, what bittersweet and scrumptious tragedy! How grand to be the boogeywoman beneath so many bedtime stories—each path that crossed her own was one more chance to be some tale’s unhappy ending! Already the threads were converging in her grasp. She had a plan, a backup plan, red herrings, hostages, contingencies and countermeasures! Fauxbia had EVERYTHING that she’d need to survive—no, to succeed. From here on out, all else would just be icing on the insect! “Wow! So many customers!†Peter Puckett had returned from the Corner Shore’s stockroom, the residence’s rather cramped garage. “And from such a diverse range of age demographics! I must be good at this small business stuff.†Devilora realigned her spine to face him, her eyes alight with gleeful recognition.
New comic! Today's News: Clayview the town on one butte. Sometimes you have to use all of your meter for a page you've been looking forward to. Now I will rest for ten thousand thousand years. If you would like to awaken me from my slumber, consider supporting Paranatural on Patreon, where I just posted a BUNCH of art including the designs for the Forges on this page, or making a one-time donation on Ko-fi. Thanks for reading! ~ [Transcript] Swimming colors. Faint flashes of summer heat. Soft seaside air. The blurry faces of children the age of his host, the boy he’d possessed in the woods—or was it by the shore? Forge marveled at the speed of their burgeoning bond. Even stoking the flames of the boy’s spectral awakening, he’d been prepared to wait for weeks, for months until his powers could be shared... until this Johnny could become the source of fuel that would restore him. And yet, overnight, as if a wave of supernatural accelerant had been poured on the pyre, the boy’s spectral spark had been brought to the very brink of ignition. So be it, Forge thought gravely. He would take any advantage he could claim, however inexplicable, however grim and double-edged. His enemies were many in the world beyond his host. There was justice to be done. She needed him. Yes. The Angel, agreed a voice of sourceless faith inside his mind, gently sealing other roads that once directed his devotion. A helmet, reforged in the dark, sealed tight around the blackened bones his rage had burned to ash. The half-real space that Forge inhabited was a chance to reinvent himself. Here, his was as pliable as molten steel. As he restored himself, he would imagine himself stronger, harder, fiercer... as a GRUDGE again, if it meant that, this time, he would be able to— KTONG! The sound of his own hammer struck a chord in the resonant hollow of his heart. “Grrggh...!†Forge clutched at his armored chest. Why did his own resolve torment him so? If it was due punishment justly delivered, then why did it feel as though he was forgetting some lesson the pain was insistent he learn...? Forge’s eyes reopened to a fleeting flash of clarity: his host’s point of view, momentarily sharp... and in his sight, a face he faintly recognized. “I’m not surprised you’re well-adapted to the ice age, Johnny. That’s the benefit of having vintage genes,†quipped Maxwell Puckett, prodding back the burning bully with his baseball bat. “But you cannot hunter-gather in convenience stores unless they’re not my dad’s.†That child! No, it couldn’t be! And yet Forge couldn’t find how to deny it. The memory was branded on his soul. He’d seen Max once before... soon after he’d arrived too late to save his mother’s life. Forge let her name escape him, knowing well that it would sear him as it left. “June...†[J: Hm? What’s up? F: You were wandering again. You missed the sign. Dead end. There is no road ahead. This must be our destination. J: ... J: Didn’t I promise you the world, Forge? J: This is just the latest pit stop.] Impossible. The family she’d left behind was worlds away from Bayview. What cruel coincidence had brought them here, and Forge to stand before them? No—forget the pain it caused him to remember how he’d failed her. Doorman and the Angel had forewarned him... Bayview hadn’t changed the way June wished it would so many years ago. It was still a haunted battleground, its pleasant peace a thin facade. If her family was here, they were in danger... surrounded by insidious archvillains like— Vice Principal DuNacht, detention hag of Bayview Biddle School, loomed into view to punctuate his panic like a crooked question mark.
New comic! Today's News: Thanks for waiting! Max you're so magnetic. Over on Paranatural's Patreon, I posted some design work for Chapter 9 and some recent elaborate freelance art for $5+ patrons, if you're interested in hopping aboard to see something like that! You can also support Paranatural on Ko-fi! Thank you for reading, making fanwork, and sharing your enjoyment of Paranatural with me, it always brightens my day! ~ [Transcript] Max thought better of retreating moments later and barged his way back inside the t-shirt rack. “You know what, YOU can explain. What are you doing here, man?!†Max hissed in a whisper. Johnny’s gaze swiveled back in his classmate’s direction. In the half-second of privacy he’d had since he was first discovered, Johnny had gone right back to his breakfast. “You could ask YOU the same thing,†Johnny mused with a mouthful of chocolate. “What am I doing here?!†snarled Max. “What am I doing here?!†“Yeah, like that.†“I live here, Johnny!†“Oh, for real? Hey, that’s pretty smart. Great minds think alike.†Johnny licked his fingers clean, efficiently slurping five digits at once. “There’s all sorts of free shirts and snacks you can steal here.†“I live upstairs! This is my dad’s store! He needs to—give me that. He needs to SELL this stuff to put food on the table, Johnny, and that’s hard enough without—†“Why doesn’t he just eat the food that he sells?†Johnny wiped his hands dry on his pants as he stood up. “...That’s a good question, Max,†Isaac reluctantly admitted in a whisper, leaning in like a monarch’s vizier. “See? Your butler gets it. What’s good, Legs?†Johnny grinned and punched Isaac in the shoulder, the classic bully greeting. “What?†Isaac squinted. “Don’t call me Legs, I won’t answer to Legs. I did but I won’t if you do it again.†“Pfft. I mean, you GOT ’EM, don’tcha? Y’know what they say. If the shoe fits?†Johnny muscled his way between the other two boys like a sticky human bumper car. “Then you PROBABLY HAVE LEGS.†He put his hands on his hips, content, for a time, to rest upon the laurels of this insightful conclusion. Then the single gear in his head began to whirr, and Johnny’s speech continued: “And your legs, they’re normal? You got NORMAL LEGS?†“I... I think so? Thought so?†Isaac tugged at the hem of his shorts. “SEE THAT’S FUNNY. ’Cause I coulda SWORN that I saw you do somethin’ SHOCKING with ’em just the other day.†Johnny spun on Max, suddenly no less accusatory and conspiratorial than Stephen insisting that every plateau was a tree felled by alien lumberjacks. “Isn’t that RIGHT, MAX?†He jabbed his thumb on the side of his skull. “My mind’s a bit CLOUDY. SPARK my memory for me, it’s nothin’ but STATIC up here!†“Oh, but I’d just hate to overcharge you, Johnny,†Max said, glancing at the free snack samples he’d enjoyed. “We’re all just glad the first zap gave you unlife to begin with. You don’t have to win a brain award. Just groan and stomp around until Herr Frankenstein can suture you a bride.†“...I know you know that I know what I’m talkin’ about,†Johnny grunted in defiance. “I’m sure you do,†Max sighed. “Is there anything else you know that I should know about?†“Uh, I know where you live,†Johnny offered, shrugging towards the Corner Shore’s top floor. “...That’s true, Max!†whispered Isaac, doing his vizier lean once again. “He knows because you told him!†“Thank you, Isaac.†“I also know that your little secretary here shoots LIGHTNING from his feet, and my WHOLE CREW knows that it was one of YOUR CREW we saw floatin’ through the air—†Isaac’s eyes went wide. He looked at Max in a panic. “Johnny hit his head and had a lovely dream about us,†Max explained, feigning unimpressed impatience. Floating through the air? What was Johnny on about THIS time? It wouldn’t have been wise to try and probe him for the answer. Now that Johnny had caught the scent of the Activity Club’s secret and was doggedly plodding his way towards the truth like a bloodhound, Max was not about to toss him any more red meat. Even if he had indulged him sparingly (perhaps with a nice, juicy cut of red herring) it wouldn’t have stayed a rare treat for long: for some inexplicable reason, Johnny was giving off heat like a grill on full blast. Standing beside him in the cramped Corner Shore aisle was like being in a sauna. “...Dude, why are you so hot?†Max griped at Johnny, taking note of it at last. The bully blinked. “............Bro?†Kting! The ringing that Johnny had been hearing in his ears all morning struck a high note as a second gear was added to his brain. “You’re like burning up!†Max said. “I swear, if you scarfed enough sugar to set off some kind of freak biochemical reaction—†“Huh? Oh, uh. Yeah. Chemistry.†Isaac’s eyes played a full round of Pong between the two of them. “...He’s probably SICK. With an AWFUL DISEASE.†Now the vizier in his voice was insidious, a Wormtongue with notes of a jealous Jafar. “Uh.†Johnny scratched the back of his neck. He was pretty warm... but wasn’t it just hot out? It was always hot in Bayview. Deep in the dark of his heart, looking up from his work and out through Johnny’s eyes, the blacksmith spirit, Forge, took in the blurry world beyond his host.
New comic! Today's News: Thanks for waiting! It's these guys again! Please, please consider supporting Paranatural on Patreon or chipping in on Ko-fi! I need all the help that I can get! Thank you so much, and thank you for reading, I really, really appreciate it! ~ [Transcript] “Here, Mr. Puckett,†Isaac mumbled, his eyes downcast with shame. “This is for you. My parents INSISTED.†The young spectral was standing at the counter of the Corner Shore, rigid with embarrassment, as he presented a freshly baked pie to Max’s dad. “Wow!†Peter Puckett gingerly accepted it, obviously touched by the unexpected gift from his new neighbors. “How thoughtful!†Isaac sighed. Clearly Mr. Puckett shared his son’s penchant for sarcasm. “Before you ask,†Isaac grumbled in apologetic solidarity, casting a scornful glance in the direction of his house, “yes, it is APPLE pie.†Ugh. His mom hadn’t even used one of the interesting apple varieties they sold at the supermarket, like a Red Malicious or the local Bayview Bonbon. She’d used Granny Smith, a fruit so generic it sounded like it was in witness protection and yet somehow had nothing to hide. HOW were his parents both ignorably boring and a mortifying sideshow SIMULTANEOUSLY?? Isaac wished that they were normal like Max’s dad was. “Oh. Hey, Isaac.†Max had appeared at the base of the stairs. “Ah! Max!†Isaac’s eyes lit up. “Don’t,†Max grunted at his dad, who, having been handed a chance to check a box off his bucket list, was rearing back to throw the pie directly at his face. “...Did you need something, Isaac? If so, you’re in the wrong place. We don’t sell things people need.†“So true, son.†Peter Puckett twirled the pie upon his finger. “We don’t even need to sell things people want.†“Yes we do,†said Max. “We really do need to do that.†“A souvenir is a window to the past. When you gaze upon—†“—a seagull in a Santa hat with someone else’s name on it,†Max cut in, glancing towards a nautical holiday ornament embossed with the name “Nathandrewâ€. “—you don’t see paint and plastic,†Peter Puckett finished, nodding at his son. “You see the precious time you spent in paradise! We don’t need to offer anything you don’t already have. What we’re selling are fond memories... straight back to the supplier!†“Creating something from nothing. We’re like gods,†Max flatly stated. “Amen!†His father took a big bite of apple pie using a method akin to a backhoe scooping dirt. “Actually, Max,†Isaac whispered, leaning in, “I’m here because we need to talk. There’s something super important that I have to discuss with you... in private.†Sensing yet another supernatural fiasco, Max gave his fellow Activity Club member a weary look... but Isaac’s huge, blue, sidewalk-puddle pupils were insistent, so Max relented with a sigh. “...Yeah, sure.†As he came around the counter, though, Max picked up the baseball bat that he’d propped up out of sight. Isaac jumped when he noticed it—drat! He couldn’t warn Max that he was in danger with the dubious spirit he’d bonded with sharing his senses! Mr. Puckett followed Isaac’s startled stare. “Maxwell...†he said to his son. “You’re not menacing your classmates with a metal bat, are you?†“Don’t be ridiculous.†Max slung his haunted cudgel on his shoulder. “Isaac’s in eighth grade. We’re not classmates. Shall we?†He gestured to a ringed rack of touristy t-shirts on the other side of the store. Isaac nodded, wracking his mind for an alternate plan. “Well?†Max asked along the way, once they were far enough from his dad for the Corner Shore’s surf music to drown out their voices. “What pressing question brought you all the way—well, next-door, I guess.†Something about that didn’t sit right in Max’s head. Isaac, his neighbor? Shouldn’t that have led to more absurdity by now? Max felt like he would have made at least one or two memorable jokes about it, but none came to mind. “Um... y-yeah, so...†Isaac was panicking. Why had he been so dramatic before? Now Max was expecting juicy gossip... but Isaac couldn’t risk rousing the suspicion of the spirit in his bat! Doorman had said that it spoke through Max. If it could take control of him to do something like that... then Max could end up in danger if it found out Isaac was trying to interfere. He had to think. Think. What could he say to stall for time until he found a chance to talk to Max alone? “Did... did you know that Mr. Spender and Mr. Garcia... k-kiss each other probably?†“...What?†Max stopped and squinted at Isaac, who immediately turned beet red. “I-ISN’T THAT... NORMAL? No, that’s—I mean, y-you’re right! You probably don’t have to kiss if you’re just CASUAL boyfriend and, um, other boyfriend. Wow!†Isaac was reeling. He felt like a rollercoaster built without rails, realized that was just a normal vehicle, and found himself blushing even brighter. “It’s just that I assumed they kiss—NO. It’s m-more like I just didn’t think to think they DIDN’T kiss, y’know? Not that I was thinking about it. I don’t know why I led with that instead of that Mr. Garcia said they’re dating. Dated. Go on dates sometimes.†Max blinked. “Dude, are you, like... good?†“AM I BAD?†squeaked Isaac. “What? No, of course not—†“IF YOU KNEW THAT THEN WHY DID YOU ASK IF I’M GOOD?†Max put his cast on Isaac’s shoulder. He didn’t dare move the hand with the bat in it while Isaac was this skittish; he might have ended up electrocuted. “Isaac. Mr. Spender is like an angel that fell from a heaven that only clowns can go to, and Mr. Garcia floats down rivers fully-clothed for fun or maybe just to feel something.†Max shook his head. “I didn’t know or care before, and really I still don’t, but in hindsight they’re probably obsessed with each other, like dualistic deities of dorkiness. They probably kiss all the time. I’m sorry you hatched from a white picket fence egg and it gave you original sin, but—†“You’re very theological today, Max,†Isaac mumbled, timidly eyeing the cast on his shoulder. What if he signed it. What if he signed it with his name. “Blame the looming apocalypse. Listen, you’re not helping; you throw lightning bolts and here I am attempting to placate you.†Max sighed. “The point, O mighty Zeus, is that I’m not trying to shame you for—hey, are you even listening to me?†Isaac jumped. “Huh? O-of course!†“Sure. Cool.†Max used his bat to scratch the back of his head. Even with A/C, the Corner Shore was strangely summer-warm in this one section. “Listen, I think it’s really funny that my dad thinks that I’m bullying you, so let’s just take this—†Max parted the merch on the circular t-shirt rack like curtains, planning to continue their conversation inside. Revealed within, however, was an unexpected occupant: Johnny Jhonny was crouched on the floor, stuffing his face with shoplifted Corner Shore snacks, his improvised breakfast. Caught between an aggressive “Do you mind?!†and a reflexive “I can explain!â€, Johnny fumbled out the words through a mouthful of treats and simply said: “Can you explain?!†Max could not. He shut the t-shirt curtain.
New comic! Today's News: This is what the kids love. Kris Straub Candle Cove homage with some Punisher Pumice DNA mixed in for good measure. Thanks for waiting for this one! Support Paranatural on Patreon and/or Ko-fi! Thank you, thank you! Thanks for reading! ~ [Transcript] Zoey shrugged and ate another glob of oatmeal. “I dunno. Stuff. I’m just waiting for the sneak peek of—OH!†The TV had crackled as if clearing its throat. As far as Max could tell, it had gone dark; for a second, he’d thought Zoey might have sat on the remote. But then there was a drumroll, and a spotlight darting back and forth across purple curtains like a frightened fairy searching for a fire exit. When at last the curtains parted, the name of the show that Zoey had been waiting for burst forth in less of a title crawl than an aggressive title scuttle: “Little Witch Tuffet’s PUPPET THEATER!†The announcer’s tone matched the collage of colorful fonts on display. Their voice sounded like a cut-and-paste creation, an acapella group taking turns dictating the same uncannily cheerful blackmail letter. “TONIGHT at JUST AFTER DARK O’CLOCK: a BRAND new EPISODE! When Captain Creepypasta CORNERS Muffet at Candy Cove, our HEROINE’S mild-mannered alter ego is too TEMPTED by treats to EAT her curds and whey!†“Aha ha,†giggled Zoey. “Muffet what are you doooing!†“Curds and whey ARE a treat,†PJ grumbled indignantly, though he, too, seemed enraptured by the drama. On the TV, a little ragdoll girl crept through a rock-candy cave, staring at her own funhouse reflection in its crystals of pure sugar. “I can’t give in!†she squeaked, blinking her big button eyes and wiping away a strand of blue-yarn drool. “But... but sweets are a food group, too, a-aren’t they? What’s there to be afraid of?†The commercial cut to another clip with a spark of subliminal static. “Meathead, you meathead!†a cartoonishly Italian Captain Creepypasta shouted at his minion, a dumpy-looking dog that had a bone stuck through its brain. “I serve you the meddling witch on a silver platter, and what do you do?!†“...I EAT THE MEATBALL CANNON’S AMMO INSTEAD,†moped Meathead, burping sadly. “You eat the Meatball Cannon’s ammo instead! Mamma mia! I ought to grind you up to replenish my supply, eh?! Then you might do something USEFUL for the first time in your life!†“...NOT IF YOU’RE THE ONE WHO’S AIMING,†Meathead mumbled in retort. A wrathful Captain Creepypasta hurled a flurry of kitchen supplies at his henchman, but missed again and again while Meathead sat completely still. Zoey and PJ laughed and clapped their hands. Lefty, who was perched on PJ’s head, seemed less enthused about the show—he hadn’t clapped at all, and he was balled into a fist. Lefty was, it would seem, a persnickety cinephile; he’d never given ANYTHING two thumbs up before. “Will Muffet wise up in TIME to transform INTO Tuffet and defeat the EVIL Captain? Or will his pizza cutter SLICE HER UP while she’s STUCK stuffed and POWERLESS?†“Oh nooo!†squealed Zoey. “Either thing could happen!†PJ gasped with credulous sincerity. “Find out TONIGHT... on Little Witch Tuffet’s PUPPET THEATER!†The title scuttled back on-screen, followed by a higher-budget sequence of the heroine consuming curds and whey to fuel her transformation sequence. Max’s eye roll ended on the fine print in the corner: “Sponsored by the Cheese Byproduct Outreach Council. ‘One Man’s Byproduct is Another Man’s Chance to Buy Product’™†As Muffet held her spoon aloft, a cluster of spiders descended from the rafters of the stage where she was standing, stitched her a colorful cloak and a pointy hat, and lifted her into the air on their silk string like a marionette. “I’m Tuffet, the brave little witch! You bad guys better watch out, or else I’ll put a spider spell on you!†Zoey and PJ cheered in unison. “With liquid cheese courage, No threat can discourage A brave witch from saving the dayyy!†Max groaned. The only thing he loathed more than a jingle with a cop-out rhyme scheme was a TV show marketed to a slightly younger demographic than his own. “Shred Eagle Extreme was so much better,†he grumbled. “They don’t make ‘em like they used to.†“Oh, they surely do, Max! This one is JUST like Itsy Bitsy & Sockpuppy’s Fun Puppet Playtime!†PJ chirped. “Except the dog is a bad guy in this one, and I don’t have to watch through a window across the street! Oh, happy day! Reruns and reboots! How lovely that history repeats itself!†“You know who else likes comforting formula?†Max asked, chuckling adolescently. “Babies, that’s who.†“Huh?†Zoey looked back at him, finally freed from the commercial’s concerningly hypnotic hold on her. “Little Witch Tuffet isn’t for babies. And Shred Eagle did the same tricks every week!†“That’s literally false because they literally had a wheel to spin to pick what trick to do—†“Show about spinning its wheels.†“Don’t CAPTION my argument, Zoey. Your show is literally about how it’s good to eat milk.†Max karate chopped the air with his good hand. “For babies.†Zoey held up her photo album like a cross to a demon, flipping to a page where baby Max was drinking from a bottle. “This is you,†jeered Zoey. “Sooo true.†“This is you right now. This is what you look and sound and smell like right now.†“Oh yeah? Oh yeah?†Max started flipping through the pages of the album looking for an embarrassing picture of his sister. Before he got to the gap where his mom was missing, though, a twinge, like touching a hot stove, changed his trajectory. He opted for a more sophomoric choice instead, and simply dunked the album from her hands. “HEY!†Zoey yelled as it bounced shut on the couch. She swung her spoon at Max like Little Witch Tuffet casting a spell, but her acrobatic brother nimbly dodged its magic oatmeal missile. He ducked the spoon, too, when she threw that next. “Wow, nice aim! Captain Creepypasta would be proud—†“NO HE WOULDN’T!†Zoey gasped. “I’M HIS ENEMY!†She tugged on her hair in frustration. “THAT JUST MAKES YOU MEATHEAD, YOU BIG JERK!†Max stuck his tongue out at his sister as he vanished down the stairs. “What a lovely family!†said PJ. “What a happy, happy morning.†Lefty seemed to take this in, then affectionately ruffled PJ’s hair.
New comic! Today's News: Thanks for waiting! We've briefly seen Isaac's normal parents before. If you would like to condone my behavior, consider supporting Paranatural on Patreon or making a one-time donation on Ko-fi! That's all for now, thank you for reading! ~ [Transcript] “Whoa! Slow down there, son!†Isaac’s normal father said. “Scarf that chow down any faster and you just might eat the bowl!†“...No I won’t, dad,†Isaac countered. What an absurdly frivolous notion. He didn’t even eat the bowl when they got bread bowls at McMiddling’s, the vaguely Irish sports bar that his parents were obsessed with. “I wouldn’t worry, dear,†said Isaac’s normal mother. “He doesn’t even eat the bread bowls at McMiddling’s!†Ugh. Isaac chewed his Brand Flakes louder to drown out his parents as they chuckled at a reasonable volume. When he had first become a spectral, Isaac thought his life would be just like his favorite shows and manga. Superpowers! A different bad guy every school week! A color-coded team of friends that cheered him on from the sidelines! In some ways, it HAD been like that, but all of it was bogged down by the inescapable slog of normal life. He still had homework every night. There were no cuts or timeskips to fast-forward through monotonous routine. All the drama was the torturously mild kind—the trench warfare of mistrust, misreading smiles as hostility—and every evening he came home to his extraordinarily ordinary parents. Then they’d ask him boring questions about mundane and average things, and all the coolness he’d accrued that day by slinging storms and saving spirit princesses would slough away like makeup in the rain. “I’m done,†Isaac said with a squeak of his chair. He didn’t just mean with his cereal—but his parents couldn’t know that, just like they could never truly know him. They could never begin to imagine the storm that raged within his unassuming clouds... “What’s the hurry, honey?†asked his mother, taking a fresh-baked apple pie out of the oven. God, she was just so hopelessly American! “I’m going to Max’s,†Isaac mumbled. His mother and father exchanged a knowing glance. “...It sure is nice to have a little shop like that next door,†Isaac’s dad said with a probing lilt. “Do you want a couple bucks to grab a snack or something, son? Your old man’s got some spare change ever since he got that fancy corner cubicle...†“What? No. I’m not going there to buy stuff. I just want to talk to Max about something before he gets swarmed by his admirers at school.†Isaac’s parents put their arms around each other. “We are so proud of you, honey,†Isaac’s mother said. “And so accepting of your choices or inherent tastes and preferences,†his father added with a nod. “...Okay?†said Isaac, slinging on his backpack. They’d been weird about Max since Isaac had first described him and said that he’d joined the Activity Club (another topic they were weird about—they always told him that they were glad he’d found “community†whenever he was vague about its purpose). “Thanks, I guess?†“You’re welcome, honey.†“And you’ll always be welcome, son. We love you very much.†Isaac didn’t get what they were on about, but he didn’t have time to care. He had to warn Max that his spirit might be dangerous... if Doorman’s judgment could be trusted after all that he’d concealed. Since it had apparently announced itself when they’d crossed paths, Max’s spirit clearly wasn’t scared of Doorman, its old enemy. Maybe that was because Isaac’s pacifistic recluse of a mentor posed no threat... or maybe that was because the spirit had kept Max close as a hostage. Either way, Isaac’s first priority was getting Max away from his haunted baseball bat without alerting the mysterious threat possessing it. Once Isaac could get Max alone, they’d figure out the rest together. Isaac balled his fists. Subtle static made his arm’s hair stand on end. Max was counting on him... he just didn’t know it yet! Max, meanwhile, was blissfully ignorant of his own blissful ignorance. As far as he was concerned, obtaining a sixth sense for the supernatural and then receiving a prophecy of doom from a mystical sphinx a few days later pretty much precluded you from simple country livin’ and its benefits. Max had yet to mine the depths beneath rock bottom for the magma underneath, the lava lamp that would have cast it in a slightly better light. Yes, Max’s arm was in a cast, and yes, he’d realized that his toothbrush smelled a bit like Hissin’ Pete... but was he being hunted by a Fear Witch? Not just yet! And there was beauty in that simple fact that Max was not appreciating. “Oh! Good morning, Max!†chirped PJ. He was floating above the apartment’s living room couch, as cross-legged as one could be as a gaseous human tadpole. “Hey. Morning,†Max replied, still rubbing sleep’s detritus from his eyes despite the fact that he was dressed. “Good morning,†Zoey answered. Elementary school started a whole hour later, so Zoey had plenty of time left to lounge in pajamas. She was watching cartoons, eating oatmeal, and idly flipping through her favorite photo album, all while unaware that she was sharing the room with both a dead boy and a creepy severed hand. Blissful ignorance’s blessing aided every single Puckett—it had been the essence of their father’s joie de vivre his whole life. “How are YOU, Max?†PJ asked him, clearly quite cheerful himself. Max yawned as he slid semi-crumpled homework in his backpack. “I’m fine.†“Huh?†Zoey cocked an eyebrow at her brother. “...Um. In case you were wondering,†Max quickly added. PJ was lively enough today that he’d forgotten he was speaking to the dead. “I am now,†pouted Zoey. “It’s a good thing that I clarified preemptively, then, isn’t it? Never say I don’t anticipate your needs.†Max nodded towards the TV, hoping he could change the subject. “What are you watching?â€
New comic! Today's News: I am under the weather so I'll keep it short and sweet: please consider supporting Paranatural on Patreon or Ko-fi! Thanks for reading! ~ [Transcript] Hot. Hot. Too dang hot. Johnny flipped out of bed like a burger, landing with a sizzling smack upon his bedroom floor. Prying himself from the polymer carpet, Johnny fished through the cleanest-looking laundry pile for the meanest-looking outfit he could muster in a hurry. Ktang! Johnny yanked a sleeveless band shirt from the cymbal of a drum set Ollie’s family had given him for Christmas. Getting ready for school was a pain, but his dad’s stuffy duplex apartment was worse. Johnny never spent a second more at home than he was forced to. Kthunk! Opening the sallow fridge downstairs, Johnny found that it was full of his dad’s beer and not much else. There WAS a single stick of butter, but he had learned the hard way not to munch on that for breakfast. He COULD whip up a dish that he called “condiment surprise,†but they were low on ranch and pickle relish and his dad would pitch a fit if they were out of either when he fired up the grill. Johnny settled for a nice gulp of refrigerated air; it was the closest thing to A/C he could get this close to home, and it tasted pretty good, like old sub sandwiches. Ktink-tink! Guided by thermodynamics like a lizard or a bug, Johnny thoughtlessly groped for a bottle of beer, clinking it out of the fridge through the rest of its regiment, and pressed its frosty glass up to his cheek. “HEY!! Whaddaya think you’re friggin’ doin’?!†Johnny’s red-faced father had appeared out of nowhere at the kitchen’s screen door. “Nothin’,†Johnny shot back, returning his improvised ice pack to the shelf. “...Nothin’ good, and that’s a given.†Kting-ting! The bell on the door chimed softly as his father slouched inside. Though it seemed a quaint domestic touch, Johnny’s dad had hung the bell up as a paranoid security measure. It was meant to give him time to rally the one-man militia that the Second Amendment clearly sanctified in the event that a burglar waltzed in from the porch. No guest had ever questioned it; like many things about their home, it must have looked less dire at a glance and from outside. Ktonk! Johnny’s father set a box of tools down on the table. He was a tensed and tattooed muscle of a man, a dense red dwarf on the constant cusp of a fiery stellar combustion. Johnny shrunk in his orbit, dim and silent as he circled at the greatest distance gravity allowed. “You start stealin’ booze from me at your age, mark my words: you won’t like the other ways you gotta grow up real dang quick.†He clicked his tongue and made a gesture like an umpire, jabbing his thumb back towards the street. You’re outta here. That threat was a perennial refrain. “...I wasn’t stealin’,†Johnny grumbled. Ktchink! Tink-tchink! Johnny’s dad scoffed as he dug through his tools. “That’s what your mum said when she got caught, too,†he chuckled. Ktong! Johnny’s heartbeat found his ears, its pulse metallic. Kting! “Shopliftin’ cheap perfume from the Mega Mall! Sellin’ junk she pried off cars to scrapyards! That the road you’re keen to roll down, Johnny? Huh?†He shook his head. “There’s makers and there’s takers in this world, boy. Makers and takers.†KTONG! As far as Johnny was concerned, the only thing that his dad “made†was “other people mad.†Donny Jhonny had a boom-and-bust career as a freelance repo man, hauling boats past due on wharf rent high aground. For this, he was a self-made man, unfairly saddled with full custody while Johnny’s mom, his ex-wife, was in prison. Like her son, she’d been a wild child, then a wild grown adult, slapped with two years by a paternalistic judge for a string of petty crimes. Though she had never been a steady presence in his life, Johnny missed her and her spray tan and her big hugs something fierce. The letters and visits were nothing like watching cartoons or mixing vibrant store-brand cereals for dinner like they’d used to. “Sooner or later, all that trouble you get in won’t just land you in detention,†his dad droned on. “It’ll land you right beside your mum, capeesh? And that won’t just be playtime with those hoodlum friends of yours. They’ll wise up before you take ’em down with you, Johnny. Mark my words. If all you make is trouble, you’ll be makin’ it on your own sooner than later. Just you wait and see.†KTANG! The last time Johnny had detention, his dad had left him high and dry when he got out at sunset. His friends had waited for him, though. They’d run through the woods that night, hooting and hollering all the way to the shore. They’d fled in fear from floating classmates. They’d schemed and gossiped back at Stephen’s house, watched gory movies way past midnight. When at last they’d gone to sleep, Johnny’s chest had hurt from laughing. KTONG! “Jeez, it’s friggin’ hot in here,†his father snarled, digging through the tool box as if searching for a culprit he could blame. “Were you messin’ with the fans again? I got a system, boy, I’ve told you—†KTANG!! Hammer struck anvil deep in the burning dark of Johnny’s heart. He balled his fists. KTANG!! KTONG!!! KTANG, KTONG, KTONG— “Aha! There we go: monkey wrench!†Johnny’s father shouted through the window to the streetside lot outside. “Hey, champ! This work for ya?†Kting-ting! The door bell chimed again as a sleep-deprived Coach Oop ducked his way into the kitchen. Johnny blinked. His hands fell slack. Ripples of heat that had surrounded him smoothed back into the air. “Uh... yeah. That’ll do. Thanks, Don.†Coach Oop gave his student an awkward nod, tucking the tool he didn’t truly need to borrow in his pocket. “Mornin’, son,†he said to Johnny. “Up and at ’em nice an’ early, I see. That’s how you get the worm.†“...I got all my shots,†Johnny said, sloughing off his concern; whatever The Worm was, you probably only contracted it by sleeping rolled up in a wrestling mat—a concern for Coach Oop, maybe, if his fragile marriage finally fell apart, but not for a vibrant, healthy boy like Johnny. Johnny craned his neck around the coach to see if Ollie was behind him, but he wasn’t. Coach Oop came by every so often (he was a friend of Johnny’s dad) but Ollie only joined him on occasion. He much preferred to walk or ride the bus to school. His dad, Ollie once said, was like the human incarnation of an insincere apology, and Ollie couldn’t stand him at his worst. “I got all my shots, he says.†Donny Jhonny shook his head. “I swear, I don’t know where he learns the disrespect!†“...Maybe from his hoodlum friends?†Coach Oop sardonically replied, but Johnny’s father took the jab in stride. “Other way around! I keep tellin’ ’im not to drag your Ollie down! A boy that big’s got football in his future, champ, I tell ya—†“Hey, if anyone can drag him down, Don, he won’t make much of a linebacker. Ha ha.†Coach Oop taxidermied his drooping jowls into a lifeless facsimile of a banter-appropriate smile. “Nah, they’re all good kids, that crew. Least no worse than we were at their age, eh? Ha ha ha.†The two dads briefly shadowboxed while masculinely chuckling. Coach Oop wanted to walk into the sea and then explode. “Besides, your boy’s got a heckuva hitball arm. Who says that him an’ Ollie can’t try out for the team together?†“All right, all right, ya brown-noser. It ain’t just your pipes back home that are leakin’ a bunch of—HEY! Where ya think you’re runnin’ off to, Johnny?!†“School,†Johnny shot back at his dad, sidling past them towards the door. “Oh, er—†Coach Oop held a plastic bag he’d brought with him aloft, looking awkwardly from Johnny to his father. “Daisy made a casserole—uh, extra casserole by, er, mistake. And I got donuts. Extra donuts. By mistake. If you want a ride to school, son, you still got time for that worm! Er, I mean... y’know, for breakfast—†Johnny’s father scowled. “...What’s this, some kinda charity?†“Uh.†Coach Oop tugged at his collar. “Well, er, with Ronnie gone—†“She never cooked to start with! I don’t need your friggin’ handouts—†By the time Coach Oop could spare a glance back at the door, Johnny was nowhere in sight. Ktonk! Ktink! Ktonk! Johnny had picked up a stick he’d found, holding it out to play percussion on the slats of a steel fence as he trudged his way uphill. He was mad. Johnny knew his dad was wrong but felt like he was right. He thought about tracking Stephen down, or getting RJ to play hooky, but then they’d just get mad on his behalf. He didn’t want that, maybe, or wanted it too much. He didn’t know. Johnny snapped the stick in half. Ktonk! Ktang! KTONG! Johnny scowled at a purple shape until it disappeared. It was hot and he was hungry, and he kept on seeing things that weren’t there... but he could make it on his own. He’d have to try.
New comic! Today's News: And with that, Chapter 9 has officially begun! Help put gas in the Paranatural tank on Ko-fi or Patreon! Thanks so much for reading, I hope you're as excited as I am for this one! ~ [Transcript] Every bedtime story lays its claim to ever after. New love lasts. The peace persists. The monster never rises from its grave. Each fable, though, each fairy tale, is followed by an epilogue less happily endured... for when the book is shut, the nightlight snuffed, the bedroom door sealed coffin-tight, we face the cliché’s counterpoint, a question mark: the black beyond The End. Fear of the dark, the oldest fear, is born from its fathomless depth. Every lesser nightmare swims within it, circling hungrily in its uncharted waters, waiting for a flashlight’s trembling spotlight to debut it as the monster of the week. When at last dawn breaks, however (despite the meddling of the night’s marauding denizens), we see that every empty threat it once contained has been dispelled. With the darkness driven back, we sigh and go about our day, briefly believing once again in happy endings. Nevermind that all the boogeymen retreat back to their birthplace. Nevermind that it’s still lightless in your head, beneath your skin. Forget that all the goblins, ghouls, and witches are within you, staring from the black you glimpse with every single blink. Behind your eyes, the night lasts ominously ever after. It was from the sun-sieged safety of this hiding place that Fauxbia, the Fear Witch, spun her web. She’d crept about in plain sight for some years now, regathering the strength that June Summers, the meddling brat, had burnt away. Nestled deep within her day job masquerade, veiled by blissful ignorance from vampires, ex-husbands, and abandoned hosts alike, the embodiment of fear itself had nothing left to fear... ...until this very morning, when Fauxbia discovered she would soon have ample cause to fear the light. “CURSES! Curses and HEXES and jinxes AND spells! Of all the rotten LUCK!†Fauxbia swept potions and poisons and yarn-safe shampoo from her dilapidated sink. She clambered closer to a shattered mirror spiderwebbed with cracks, where her reflection flickered in and out like a candle soon to fade. Fauxbia snarled as she struggled to study the festering wound she’d stitched up with her string. Worming its way through her house’s hideous curtains, the faintest glint of sunlight stung her eyes. “KYYYAAARRRGHH!!†she screamed in rage, if not yet in a pain she couldn’t bear. CURSE that plague rat Davy Jones! He’d BIT her with his FILTHY fangs, with teeth drenched in the black blood she had spilled from him! Now her , already a feeble, detestable prison, was beginning to succumb to his disease. Vampirism. By sundown she would be one of his thralls, forced to breathlessly follow his brainless commands, to lick that leathery, ill-fitting boot he called his face! No. No, no, no. The Fear Witch was no’s puppet. She was the puppeteer! She would claim a NEW host, just as planned, just as she had craved for years... a youthful vessel she could pilot as she pleased. But how? Fauxbia would be defenseless while she waited for a mundane host to metamorphosize into a proper spectral. She had countless contingencies prepared to salvage the failure she’d faced back at Bayview Academy, but with such a strict time limit, she would have to act much faster than expected. So be it. She’d stitched thinner threads into a masterwork before. First there was the Bayview Academy student with white spectral energy that Paige and her flunkies had supposedly discovered. An impossible prize like that was a mouthwatering prospect... but there was sure to be a catch. Fauxbia needed other plans in place. East Island was her playground, reshaped just as she’d wanted. She had her web of wires overhead. She had a hostage she could use to force that pipsqueak Cody Jones to do her bidding. If she could set the stage by sunset... yes. Yes. With that much fear at her disposal, she could mold the perfect puppet in an instant. A shaky smile (free of fangs for now) spread wide across the Witch’s wicked face. With a creepy-crawly flourish of her fingers, she dismissed the spirit fusion that disguised her. Devilora Demonelle DuNacht, Vice Principal of Bayview Biddle School, stepped out of her decrepit home, emerging in the bleak shade of her weed-infested porch. Her next-door neighbor, the middle school’s very own Principal Pleezdoo, appeared right on schedule, too, popping out of her bright yellow house like a bird from a cuckoo clock. Devilora greeted her with a grin and a wave so arthritic it seemed to move in stop motion, and Principal Pleezdoo faked a wobbly smile back. She’d given up avoiding Devilora years ago; they’d carpooled to the middle school each morning for a decade. Devilora took a deep breath through her dangling aardvark nose. Today was the day. The sky was clear. The seas were calm. The sphinxes she’d contracted circled slowly overhead. The moon was going to be full tonight, which didn’t matter much to her but felt appropriately eldritch. Before the day was done, she’d claim what she deserved. What wretch was fool enough to try and stop her? Johnny Jhonny woke up in his bed feeling sweaty and stifled, beset by humidity, bewildered by the narrative’s transition into prose. In an attempt to reclaim his reality, he groped for the first caveman verb that he could and punched his poor alarm clock off its perch. “Snooze,†he said, though it had not been beeping. Johnny blinked, rubbing strange purple shapes from his sight. Had Bayview always been this freaking hot?
New comic! Today's News: CHAPTER NINE BEGINS NOW! I am THRILLED, PLEASED, and EXCITED to welcome you all to Johnny and the Witch Hunt, a chapter you are truly not prepared for. It’s an action-packed one full of all your favorite middle schoolers, so I hope you’ll read along and help to spread the word. I’m keeping this chapter intro post short and sweet, but I’ll have more to say and announce soon, so keep checking out these news posts! There will be Chapter 9 designs and other goodies posted soon on the Paranatural Patreon, so consider chipping in there if you want to support this silly story that I make! You can also donate to me and Paranatural over on Ko-fi. Support is more than appreciated—it’s VITAL for me getting to continue doing this, so I hope that you’ll consider helping out if you are able! That’s all for now! I hope you all enjoyed the holidays! Ignore all previous messages about Chapter Zero and the like! Nothing survives the outline stage. I’ve built an even wilder rollercoaster. Buckle up!!!
New comic! Today's News: You heard the me! I'm taking a break for holiday travel and preparation... and then Chapter 9 begins on January 17th! See you then, in the new year! Thanks for reading! Support Paranatural on Ko-fi and Patreon!
New comic! Today's News: *EDIT* Swamped with life stuff this week so no Q&A until next time! Gotta make this break an actual break for a bit. See you next week! I'm back from my trip to visit my family, which means more Q&A! I think I still have at least one more of these in me (in terms of questions I've received that I still want to answer). If you're excited for Chapter 9 and/or enjoying my work on these Q&A comics, consider backing Paranatural on Patreon or tossing me and the project a few bucks on Ko-fi! That's all for now! Thanks for reading!
New comic! Today's News: Addicted to the popcorn thrill of Q&A comics. No update next week, as I will be traveling to see family for the holidays! See you after that! Support Paranatural on Patreon and Ko-fi! Thanks for reading and for sending Qs for me to A! Feel free to send me more on Twitter or Bluesky for two weeks from now.
New comic! Today's News: It's another Q&A! And I'll probably do another one next week! Watch out! And thanks for reading and sending in these questions! Support Paranatural on Patreon and Ko-fi! That's all, bye!
New comic! Today's News: First things first! Now that the campaign has been extended, you have LESS THAN ONE DAY LEFT to pick up an Eightfold Plush! I truly cannot overstate how incredible you guys' support for this silly merch product has been. If you've been following these news posts, you know times have been tight for me of late and bumpy between health issues and all the usual struggle of making art for a living. This flood of Eightfold enthusiasm has truly bought me so much time to make more of the stories you guys enjoy without scrambling to stay afloat. Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU! I'll say it a billion times. NEXT! Over on Bluesky and Twitter I asked people to send in these Q&A questions for Paranatural characters! I received literally like a hundred, and I had SO MUCH FUN with these, so... I'm gonna... keep doing these for a while during the between-chapter break. Apologies for the ever-shifting plans, but I simply must follow my heart! I hope you enjoy these! Since I'm doing more of these, feel free to reply to the relevant Bluesky/Twitter post with more suggestions! In other news, I'm working on a BIG Animal Star/freelance/Paranatural Q&A behind-the-scenes post that will go up in the next few days for $5+ Patreon patrons, so look forward to that over on the Paranatural Patreon! That's all for now! See you next week with more Q&A comics!
New comic! Today's News: *EDIT* IGNORE WHAT LIES BELOW! The Eightfold plush campaign has been EXTENDED for EIGHT MORE DAYS due to MASSIVE EIGHTFOLD INTEREST and SHADY BACKROOM DEALS PROBABLY! If you missed the window before, you still have a chance to grab a plush before it's no longer available! OK, change of plans if you've been reading me hyping it up in the news posts: I decided to move my plans for a "Chapter Zero" comic page update to right before the Chapter 9 title page after the holidays. I think it will serve its purpose much better as the lead-in then! Hang in there until then, there will still be more Paranatural content during the break! Hey, did you know that there's just TEN HOURS AND COUNTING left to get an Eightfold plush?? Jump on it while you can! We've already passed the goal of 1,000, which I couldn't be more happy about. You guys going wild for it is like literally a lifeline for me and my work at the perfect time, I truly can't thank all of you enough. That's all for this week! I hope you all enjoyed my Halloween ship art and are having a great time on this most Paranatural of days! Thank you for all you do to support me and this story!
New comic! Today's News: You all saw the post above. Get an Eightfold plush RIGHT HERE. The 1,000-sold goal was pitched to me by Makeship as their threshold for more support for future projects, so hitting it would be a great way to see more cool stuff like the Eightfold plush in the future! Besides that, HUGE thanks to everyone backing Paranatural on Patreon and Ko-fi. The outpouring of support and enthusiasm after Chapter 8's finale has been incredible. NEXT WEEK! In case you missed it in my last news post, I'll repost exactly what I wrote before: "The update on November 1st will be a VERY cool one! Since I think there will be some confusion when it goes up, I'm gonna do a little FAQ here to clarify in advance! I consider this FAQ very light spoilers, so feel free to scroll on if you want to be absolutely blind on what this update's going to be. Okay, here I go: the update on November 1st will be a single page of comics (as in an actual comic, not illustrated prose). It will be labeled as Chapter Zero, but it is not the start of a new chapter. It is just the single page that you will see on November 1st. Down the line, there will be more "Chapter Zero" pages between and within chapters. I'm not returning to the comics format (I sadly can't handle the cost on my ), but I hope this will be a fun treat for you all regardless!" From then on, it's Bayview worldbuilding posts and other cool extras until after the holidays! Thanks for your patience waiting for Chapter 9, and thank you so much for reading and re-reading!
New comic! Today's News: And THAT'S THE END OF CHAPTER EIGHT! I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did! I have a ton of stuff to say down here in the news section, so let's start with the things that keep this comic going! If you enjoyed this CHAPTER, pretty PLEASE consider supporting Paranatural on Patreon or tossing a few end-of-chapter tips my way on Ko-fi! And of course, for a LIMITED TIME ONLY (just 13 more days!) you can purchase for yourself an EIGHTFOLD PLUSH! This little delight has been the most successful Paranatural merch I've ever sold, and it goes without saying that that makes it a HUGE help in tricky times! I would love, love, love to see it keep on going all the way to 1,000 sold before the campaign is over! This is the only time that you'll be able to grab one, so please consider getting a funny paper spider for yourself or a friend if you haven't already! OK, with all that out of the way, let's talk what's coming next on Paranatural! 1) Next week, the update will be another big post about the Eightfold plush to give it one last big push before the campaign is over! I'll likely try to do some little Isabel/Eightfold comics or something similar, too, so definitely check back then even if you've already bought one! 2) The week after that, the update on November 1st, will be a VERY cool one! Since I think there will be some confusion when it goes up, I'm gonna do a little FAQ here to clarify in advance! I consider this FAQ very light spoilers, so feel free to scroll on if you want to be absolutely blind on what this update's going to be. Okay, here I go: the update on November 1st will be a single page of comics (as in an actual comic, not illustrated prose). It will be labeled as Chapter Zero, but it is not the start of a new chapter. It is just the single page that you will see on November 1st. Down the line, there will be more "Chapter Zero" pages between and within chapters. I'm not returning to the comics format (I sadly can't handle the cost on my ), but I hope this will be a fun treat for you all regardless! 3) After that, I'll be doing fun Bayview worldbuilding posts, old art retrospectives, and other cool stuff like that through the holidays! I definitely need the break to plan Chapter 9, tackle freelance, and rest and recover while visiting my distant family. I've been looking forward to this breather for a long time! I hope you'll follow along during the sort-of-break. Chapter 9, therefore, will start some time after the holidays! Follow me on Twitter, Tumblr, and Bluesky for news until then! That's all for now! I'm beat! Thank you so, so much for reading and for all of your support! Paranatural forever! See you soon! :^) ~ [Transcript] Beyond the walls of Bayview Academy, where some could still recall what came before, reality’s rewriting hadn’t fazed the population. Memories of rural life became a life in paradise, a bustling archipelago where tourists swarmed like seagulls. The seagulls swarmed like tourists, too, and often in a similar location. As dawn broke, a whole screeching flock had descended upon the largest sign that bore the town’s new name, scanning the Mega Mall below it for their first stolen meal of the day. Even before the birds had left their fecal mark upon their crowded billboard basecamp, the sign had been defaced by a much more deliberate, much more saturated splatter. The letter “D†had been spraypainted as graffiti over Bayview’s storm-bent “Bâ€, in mocking protest of the man whose money puppeteered the town. Davy didn’t rule it from the shadows anymore, though he was still confined to their protection. To the people of Bayview, his was a household name... one that teens and rebels spat whenever they would speak it. Boss Leader knew to curse it, too, before the sun was high above the sea. She closed a fist within her dream, flexing chitin in the blue she swam outside it. Davy Jones...! He’d called her monstrous, in the end, so many long lost years ago. She wished it was as true as it had felt. If only she had been horror enough to show no mercy, a creature far removed enough from feeling to destroy him face-to-face. What evil scheme had he devised now in the shelter of her sympathy? Mayview had changed again, this time before the Great Unknown had risen from its slumber! If the deepest sleep that she could weave could no longer contain it... what power could she possibly employ to hold it back...? Before Boss Leader could decide upon the Activity Consortium’s next move, news of what transpired had reached ears best left unpricked. Sophie Sybil’s exposé had only briefly sat unread inside the inbox of a hundred different tiplines... before it had been forwarded away without a trace, arriving at an address based in distant Transylvania. “Oh, gosh! Oh, geez!†fretted a muppet of a man with swirly glasses, clicking away at the only computer that had ever graced the fortress where he worked. “Over a dozen keyword matches! M-multiple monster anomalies flagged across a gigabyte of photos! It’s pinging from ten different sectors simultaneously—th-that’s gotta mean the source is Sector X, ma’am! The Magpie Protocol finally snagged the big one!†“Show me,†growled a cool voice from the shadows just behind him. A single photo from the collection was soon being marched through the halls of a castle seized from Dracula Himself, clenched tight in the ruthless fist of the deadliest hunter that had ever served the Cousinhood of Man. She threw doors porcupined with bloody stakes aside, revealing a throne room filled with old men and still-older decorations. Dusty tapestries depicted knights in silver armor slaying hounds the size of horses; a shattered coffin was suspended from the ceiling like the bat it once contained; taxidermied wolves studded the walls, staring daggers at the council staring daggers at the door. “Shambling fossils, all of you. No less the living dead than the vermin you’ve failed to exterminate,†spat the woman at the threshold. Unlike the Cousinhood veterans leering down at her, the new arrival was dressed in sleek and modern-looking leathers, a cool sword at her back and countless gadgets at her side. “Your blind adherence to tradition—your refusal to adapt—has allowed a PLAGUE to fester in the dark.†The woman tossed the crumpled photo to the floor. A grizzled old hunter with dentures of pure silver shot a wooden harpoon straight through it, then slowly cranked it back up to his lectern like a fish snagged by a lazy dockside angler. His sole remaining eye went wide when he saw the empty suit in the photo—the empty suit... of a man with a hook for a hand. Murmurs were exchanged between the elders of the Cousinhood as they passed the haunting image back and forth. “Knight Hunter of the Raptor Sect,†wheezed a man with stakes for fingers. “Long has your division been the vanguard of the Cousinhood.†“But all too oft thine kin hath flown beyond our ken,†warned an incomprehensible priest wearing pitch-black pince-nez glasses. “Forget thee not: we Cousins hunt in packs. Thou must keepeth pace with those who linger in the past, for the future is a dangerous frontier. How wouldst thou handle sudden ambush, caught alone and unprotected, whilst thou typeth unawares upon thine smartphone?†“We never needed wi-fi to kill a werewolf back when we were still a Brotherhood,†growled the Apex of the Ursine Sect. A glare from the High Cleric of Human Resources softened the elder’s scar-crossed scowl. “Not that that’s a bad thing,†he appended shortly after. “I’m all for a more inclusive appellation. Yes, I voted abstain on that measure, but what’s more gender-neutral than neutrality on gender equality?†He thumped his lectern with a sweaty palm. “Let the minutes show that I’m an ALLY. Even women can be alpha males, that’s what I always say. In private, so as not to sound performative—†“You will have your long-sought hunt in Sector X, if you’ve the wit to pierce its border undetected,†hissed the Apex of the Serpent Sect, “but do take care not to repeat the past you scorn... lest you be consigned to it like Lady Shrike before you. The bleeding edge cuts both ways, bold Knight Eagle.†“Spare me your meaningless titles,†the woman answered, pushing up her shadowy sunglasses. Ladies, lords, and knights. Ridiculous. The Cousinhood’s medieval hierarchy was nothing but frivolous ren faire pageantry. It provided no tactical benefit. “If you must know who to thank after I’ve CULLED the beast Shrike COULDN’T...†The woman trailed off into dramatic silence. The incident had torn her heart and flesh and life asunder. Her stage name, too, was best left rent in twain—how could she claim that anything had survived that cruel night’s carnage? The name she’d worn beneath it had been cast aside as well (though that was unrelated to the grim parts of her backstory; the boyish charm that she’d been famed for never fit the woman well, and she had leveraged her lethal success as a monster slayer into a femme fatale transition fully funded by the Cousinhood’s insurance plan). What, then, did she have left to bear besides her nickname’s shards? She was a verb, a weapon honed to serve one single purpose. She was Shred Eagle no longer. “...Call me Shred.†Back in Bayview, life was quickly easing into its newly minted backdrop. Isabel’s sandals stuck to the surf and the sand as she walked the shore of the cove that she called home. She’d risen early, hoping to case the lighthouse while the dojo’s students were still out for their morning jog. Flipfop’s umbrella was in there, along with all her grandpa’s other captive spirits. Each night, when Master Guerra locked himself inside, the lighthouse would glow an eerie red that every spectral in the town could see for miles. He was training, fighting a battle royale in a myriad spirit trance, connecting with a hundred haunted objects that by all rights should have unspooled his ghostly form. Each dawn, however, he’d emerge from the spire unscathed. When Isabel was little, she would climb the lighthouse ivy to a perch where she could watch him through a window, pressing up against the glass with reverent awe. Eightfold would pull her into spirit trance so she could parse her grandpa’s shadowboxing, and Isabel would memorize his movements, mimicking them later as she’d seen them—made against the empty air, a violent art without a victim. She couldn’t see things that way anymore. Locked. The window was secure, just like the lighthouse’s heavy front doors. A twelve-year-old’s strength couldn’t break its thick glass, and spectral energy was useless when it came to mundane obstacles. Isabel sighed and descended the ivy back down to the ground. With Flipflop, she could have flipped inside. With Eightfold, she could have slid a paper ribbon through the crack to turn the latch. With just her own abilities, her only option was to challenge Master Guerra at the threshold... and that was what he wanted, wasn’t it? Everything was a miserable test with him, her every choice a chance at unexpected failure. Isabel stared out across the water and watched the sun rise over Bayview. She’d always liked the lonely feeling of an empty morning beach. It felt different now, however... brisk and windswept, with an autumn chill that didn’t suit the summer. “...I wasn’t alone back then, I guess,†she muttered softly to herself. The silence at her side was one she couldn’t take for granted. An island away, beneath the sea, a book no longer bound by earth and stone bobbed slowly to the surface. The rest of the Activity Club, too, awoke to a world misremembered. Max blinked blearily out of the Corner Shore’s second-floor window, stirred from his sleep by the inland souvenir shop’s awful steel-drum, surf-jam playlist. There it was, beyond the bubble—Baxborough, the mainland city Max had left. He’d felt hopeless, yesterday, about ever seeing it again... but that had just been pointless moping. It was so close, wasn’t it? The twins, the home he missed—even perhaps, he dared to dream, his mother’s phantom echo. Once they could get the Ghost Ship back in action, Baxborough was just a single day aboard away. Max could see his destination, plot his course from his own window... just as soon as that annoying fog concealing it cleared up. “And THAT is why... E equals MC squared!†Ed drew the little floating two with a flourish, and every clapped. Everyone respected them so awesomely for doing math with letters. This was not the first impossibility that they’d achieved with ABCs; Ed’s grades were so good that they had reached the coolest parts of the alphabet, clocking in at a Z+ in science and an X++ in Secret English, an invitation-only subject that drove most geniuses to madness. Ed didn’t really understand exactly how they’d ended up so smart, but it was rude to look a gifted horse in the mouth, or something wise and apropos like that. They were too busy basking in positive reinforcement to question if they really deserved to be tutoring eighth graders in a pre-dawn study sesh at Bayview Biddle School, or why class was in session in the middle of the summer. If Isaac had some insight to contribute, he was not around to share it. He’d skipped Ed’s lesson to sleep in at home, where he could stare in utter torment at the ceiling. Isaac’s thoughts were a worse storm than any he could summon, still swirling with fury at Doorman’s blindsiding betrayal. Pangs of confusion, loss, and guilt, too, sparked beyond the cloud of anger all too often, striking like stray bolts of errant lightning. I have to warn Max, Isaac thought. Doorman’s cryptic counsel was enough to make him worry, even if he wasn’t certain he could trust his mentor’s motives. Maybe Doorman was still using him, but... if Max’s spirit really was dangerous, Isaac didn’t care. He had to get the bat away from him, then hash things out once they could speak in private. Isaac stared out of the window of his bedroom. Maybe he should go and talk to Max right now. He was his next-door neighbor, after all. Unlike Isaac’s, Dimitri’s house was right where he had left it. The humble bungalow still sat at the back of East Island, where it faced the lapping waves and blue horizon. What was altered, he discovered, were its contents—every box had been unpacked, the missing furniture replaced. There was no sign that his family had ever planned to move. “Hey, bud,†said Dimitri’s dad, giving his son a placid nod as he cautiously emerged into the dining room. Dimitri jumped at the sound of his voice. He blinked at his mom in the kitchen behind him. Then he slowly stumbled to the window, staring out across the ocean with wide eyes. “Port Paradise Apartments†read a sign not far away, but Dimitri wouldn’t notice it for minutes. He was too lost in the dream his waking life had now become. Something unexplainable had happened to the town that he adored... to Mayview, the only home Dimitri could remember.
New comic! Today's News: THE EIGHTFOLD PLUSH IS AVAILABLE NOW! If you already pledged during the petition stage, you're good to go! Your order went through, and you should have been charged when the campaign launched! If you missed pledging back then, you can get an Eightfold plush RIGHT NOW! The plush will be on sale for a limited time only, until the end of the month, so make sure to grab one while you can! Once the campaign is complete, the plush will go into production and ship out to you guys in March! I will be counting the days, as I'm sure YOU will be TOO! It's still so bizarre to have a tangible version of a character I drew forever ago right in front of me (I was sent an Eightfold to approve/take funny photos of, so I can attest to its quality! I'm in awe). If you're looking for a way to support me and Paranatural, picking up a plush is a great way to do it! The success it's had already is a HUGE boon and surprise for me. Look forward to more stuff like this in the future! If you can't afford a plush right now or don't want to grab one, spreading the word about it is another great way to help me out! And, as always, you can support Paranatural on Ko-fi and Patreon! Thank you THANK you for reading and supporting my work! ONE PAGE LEFT IN THE CHAPTER, TOO, LET'S NOT FORGET...! ~ [Transcript] The flambé of Davy Jones was far from the first casualty in the ballroom, and hardly the start of its ongoing chaos. As a flood of catastrophic unreality had reshaped the town beneath its sleeping citizens, morning had arrived much earlier than scheduled, beckoned by a well-timed backstage camera flash... and, perhaps, a wish-fueled will inclined to seize the snapshot it had offered. For the briefest of moments, there was a light in the dark archipelago’s sky—hope for the residents caught unawares by the PTA’s plans to transform it. Others, however, would surely have preferred more clouds than one with silver lining: a third of Davy’s donor base had burned to ash beneath the ballroom’s skylight. “FLEE, MY FUNNY CULTISTS!†came Razor Rex’s awful screech, seemingly from nowhere. “BETRAYAL! SABOTAGE! THE PHANTOM THREAT AUTHORITY IS SHATTERED! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES, FOR DEATH YET LIVES! AWAIT MY SACRED ORDERS IN THE GROUP CHAT!†Paige was pressed against the wall, spared only by her brooding retreat to the dance floor’s shadowy border. The Mandrake scanned the carnage and confusion with vague, nihilistic relish. Agent Savage chewed her lip; she wasn’t getting paid enough to deal with a disaster like this. Brother Hog just hung his head. Though light remained in ?ayview, it did not belong to him. Not anymore. No one was more shocked than Sister Cat, however, who was staring straight ahead in dumbstruck silence. The alarm that woke her up to go to work was chirping out its tinny jingle in her pocket, though she was sure she’d turned it off for both the weekend and the Halloween apocalypse. The din was briefly broken by the chime of incoming texts. Six unread messages from her mother were demanding to know why she’d skipped Microwave Dinner Night. Two of them were the same blurry video of her dad watching soup spin as it reheated, his face a blank expression that her mom described as “heartbreak.†Sister Cat grit teeth that had ceased to feel like fangs. Memories of her mundane life were settling back where they’d once been, replayed before a slightly different backdrop. The sun had risen... and she was still Rose Baxter. Betrayal? Sabotage? Someone was to blame for this. Someone was going to pay for this. She’d drag them to the goddess like a dead rat to her doorstep! “C-c’mon!†squeaked Sophie Sybil as she scurried down an opulent Academy hallway. “We’re goners if we get caught here!†The Hijacks were loping along as best they could, but the weight of failure (their own and the one they were puppeting) made keeping up with Sophie an endeavor. “Darn it, darn it! I’m no hero! I’m not even an antihero! I’m nothing but a loser!†sobbed the mayor. “Cody was counting on us, but... but we couldn’t help him at all!†“We?†the mayor sneered back. “You’re the one whose knees were shaking, fright brain!†“B-but... I’ve only got control of ONE knee...†“HMPH! MINE was shaking for PHYSIOLOGICAL REASONS: trying to coordinate with an unstable crybaby like YOU!†his left half snapped. “From now on, we do things MY way! The logical way!†Hijack glared at his counterpart, causing the mayor to go cross-eyed. “That Dave guy messed up the town or something! The Witch is loose! With laser vision! Cody can’t keep us locked up anymore—the smartest thing to do is GO TELL MOM!†A whimper from his right half was all the permission Hijack needed. He dragged his blubbering brother from the they were sharing, and Mayor Spender collapsed to the floor in a heap. “M-Mr. Mayor!†Sophie Sybil gasped, stumbling to a stop. She rushed to his side, unable to see the spirits that had left him. “C’mon, get up! Don’t collapse before the PTA does! We’re destined for the front page, not way back in the obituaries!†“...Bwuh?†came Mayor Spender’s bleary answer. He blinked at Sophie. Hadn’t he been in the bathroom? But then... then Davy’s son— “BETRAYAL! SABOTAGE!†A distant voice rang through the hallway. “SOMEONE’S ARGUABLY KILLED ALL THE GUARDS!†another added. “IT’S HARD TO SAY WITH SKELETONS AND ZOMBIES BUT THEY’RE DEFINITELY DEAD NOW!†“SPIES! INTRUDERS! SEARCH THE ACADEMY!†The mayor’s eyes went wide. He looked up at Sophie, noted her fear, haphazardly leapt to the correct conclusion, and began to wail a booming, panicked “HEEEEELLLLPPP!†Hijack’s right tentacle went suddenly taut, tugging his logical half to a stop. “Forget it!†hissed Hijack Left. “She... she’s on her own! Think of the greater good! The Doc needs to know all the stuff we’ve dug up!†Right Hijack clenched his teeth, shut his eye... and wriggled free, abandoning his chance to reunite with his creator. “Why, you...!†LB fumed, but soon followed suit—without a pause, it seemed, to calmly weigh the pros and cons. Both Hijacks dove back into Mayor Spender’s . Both of his hands rushed to cover his mouth, clapping like cymbals in front of his face, before both spirits realized they could simply just stop screaming. “S-sorry! I’m sorry!†Mayor Hijack stammered at a startled Sophie. “That was the real mayor, n-not me! I... I just lost control for a second!†“HUH?? Wait, th-then... my cover’s, like, totally blown!†“No! Not... not while I’m still in charge!†Mayor Hijack insisted. He balled his borrowed fist, steeling his shaky resolve. “Listen! Loop in every newsroom in ?ayview and beyond if you want to, but you gotta make sure you show the whole scoop to a cool scientist lady named Mina Zarei! Got it?! She’s the key to solving all of this!†“...Huh?!†Sophie blinked. As in the Mina Zarei that she and Rose had bullied all through middle school? As in the Mina Zarei that Rose had secretly dated back in high school?? Junior Prom Incident Mina Zarei? Perennial DIY therapy topic Mina Zarei?? Foundational first toxic teenage relationship Mina Zarei?! “Go! Get outta here!†Mayor Hijack whirled towards the sound of approaching footsteps. “If the PTA’s splintered, we can win if we all work together! What could make a greater good than that?!†He thumped his chest. “Every has a part to play! If mine isn’t the hero or the villain or some cool thing in-between—! If you’re the only person I can help—! What little good that I can do... I’m gonna do it!†“M-Mr. Mayor...!†sparkled Sophie. She didn’t care for politicians, for the most part, out of principle... but there was something about his platitudes and nebulous bravado, like you could get a beer with him, or trust that his dog’s social media account was run by the actual dog and not a joyless unpaid intern. Perhaps she WOULD vote for him after all, even if he WAS some kind of pernicious and fraudulent puppetmaster. “I’ll... I’ll be in touch!†Sophie disappeared around the corner just as a gaggle of Davy’s police stumbled onto the scene. “Mr. Mayor?! Sir, what are you DOING back here?!†“MY JOB!†boomed Mayor Hijack from one corner of his mouth, and “YOUR JOB!†from the other simultaneously. The doublespeak cowed the crowd with contradiction, a technique ripped straight from Orwell’s novel Nineteen Eighty-Four. It was immediately clear that the lobotomized homunculus had a bright and/or dark and dystopian future in politics. “Lax security! Poor response time! I was RIGHT to call for help—but it’s not me who needs it! It’s the AMERICAN TAXPAYER!†He jabbed a finger at the cops. “BRING MY CAR AROUND! I have budgets to slash, you good-for-nothing PARASITES!†Sweat-drenched salutes slapped in sequence against several clammy foreheads, and Mayor Hijack grinned a nervous grin. Though he, too, was a parasite... he, at least, could still be good for something. Bayview was in better hands with Hijack’s pulling the strings.
New comic! Today's News: Thanks for waiting! Only TWO PAGES LEFT in the CHAPTER! It's been a wild ride! Also hey who's this. A little spider told me to tell you to stay tuned for next week... Eightfold awaits! Thank you for reading, I'm so excited for what's in store in Paranatural and I hope you all are too! :^) ~ [Transcript] “D-Dad...!†Cody stammered at his father. “Who... who was that? What just happened?†Davy was still feral and hunched, still thrumming with the thrill of the hunt. Slowly, the monster found his mask again, then stood up straight and turned to face his son. “...You saved my life,†he said to Cody, “by calling out to me. I fight my fiercest for you, Cody. To protect you.†He smiled. “I’m glad that you were here tonight, my son.†Cody’s gaze sank to the floor. A battered Davy stalked to his side and wrapped him in a limp, hook-handed hug. “I suppose I can forgive some stray rebellion here and there.†Davy smirked and shook Cody by the shoulder. “There are deeper betrayals to punish than preteen mischief,†he growled, casting a glare towards Razor Rex and Fauxbia. His soft smile reappeared as he returned his gaze to Cody. “No. You were right, son. You deserve the freedom to explore the world as I did in my youth... and now that the day is won, now that the day is done forever... there’s nowhere here in Dayview that we can’t explore together.†Cody blinked, conflicted and defeated. His exhausted father’s loose embrace felt like a suffocating vice. “...What a mess,†sighed Davy, staring down at his model town. Stakes and splinters protruded from its islands like great spires; Davy had mistaken all signs of earlier sabotage for after-the-fact collateral damage dealt by his duel with Doctor Burger. The goldfish was nowhere to be seen. Hijack and Sophie were pressed back into the shadows of the rafters, huddling with their hands across each others’ mouths to mute them. “Let’s finish cleaning up before we see the life-sized version, hm?†Davy grinned, raising Fauxbia up to eye level. “Starting with this clump of filthy rags. I command you, Witch—†the vampire began, preparing to deliver a decree she couldn’t follow. Once she defied him in defiance of their Sphinx pact, he would be free to rid the world of the wicked Witch once and for all... Davy’s voice, however, had stopped short, as had all the sound within his batlike ears. Masquerade MOCKERY! Hiphop’s MASTER Volume! Before a muted Davy had realized what was happening, Fauxbia’s eyes lit up like molten metal. Fryclops’ HEAT VISION! “RRNGH!!†Davy snarled, reeling back, as a fiery laser pierced his face and, shooting straight down from the Witch’s dangling eyeball, tore through pricey dress shoe leather to sear a red-hot hole straight through his foot. “Let’s MAKE a DEAL!†hissed the Witch while Davy was deafened and sightless, spinning her severed head to grin at Cody. “Help ME to escape your FATHER’S wrath unharmed, and I’ll allow those RATS in the RAFTERS to scurry FREE, if just this once! What do you SAY?!†A string shone in the stagnant air, the threat that she’d prepared to give her proposition teeth. Cody followed it to the ceiling, meeting the lopsided stare of a half-frightened Hijack. The Witch had read the room as fast as Cody was now forced to. With just a whiff of familiar fear, with just a single, fleeting glimpse of Mayor Spender, Fauxbia had realized that the hapless politician was now playing host to the same spirit she’d sensed before—the spirit that had been inside the vampire’s pet goldfish. She understood now, too, just what a treasure of a power she had stolen from it... Cody hesitated across a half-second’s eternity. His plan to run away from home with the Hijacks’ help was in shambles. Could he still reach his mom without them? Did he still need to trick his dad, who’d promised him a moonless sky? Guilt struck him when he realized that he’d always planned to use them and discard them. Why was he prepared, then, to strike a bargain for their safety? Their utility was lost. They hadn’t nearly made amends for all that they had done to Jeff yet. Was he really kind enough to spare them at his own expense? Or was he feigning his humanity to prove he wasn’t heartless? Fauxbia robbed him of the chance to find an answer. “Fulfill the BARGAIN, and I promise NOT to HARM a single hair on dear JEFFAVORITE FLAVORS’ head!†“D-deal!†Cody found himself stammering out in a panic. The string that led up to the Hijacks fell slack as purple light shone in the Witch’s gleeful eyes... ...and a hook sliced through her head. Cody gasped, but the terms of his deal (and Davy’s, for that matter) were not yet broken: Fauxbia was utterly unharmed. Her grinning face had faded into swirling spectral energy just as Davy had lashed out in his blind fury. The vampire overlord roared a silent roar in mute frustration, black blood splashing from his face as it regenerated. Past his shoulder, Cody witnessed the patchwork portal collapse back into the shape of a giggling, scurrying, decapitated Fauxbia. Davy whirled to face her, and Cody briefly caught the eye of a retreating Mayor Hijack. Their stolen gaze shone with defeat, remorse, and gratitude as they departed into darkness hand-in-hand with Sophie Sybil. Cody didn’t have time to convey more than a flash of resignation in return. Davy had crashed one foot to the stage and, with a sound reminiscent of Peekaboo’s shapeshifting, dragged the Witch back to his side along with all the space around her. He had her. He’d lunged and felt his fangs sink into substance. He’d cut her laughter short, heard that delicious screech of pain as sound returned back to his ears... but then his son had pulled him back. Cody’s strength had flared beyond his own. Davy blinked down at him, dumbstruck, taut with fury. “It’s over, Dad!†Cody insisted, hugging his father as tight as he could. “You won.†Davy cast a haggard glance around the room. The Witch was gone. Razor Rex, too, had long since disappeared in the confusion. “No more fighting, please. I just... I just want to go home.†Cody felt a hand rest softly on his head. Davy ruffled his hair. When Cody finished flinching and opened his eyes, the father that he couldn’t help but love was grinning down at him, every drop of vicious bloodthirst back behind its fragile dam. “My boy... I can’t wait to show it to you.†Davy fixed the high collar of Cody’s presidential coat. There would be plenty of time for a witch hunt and dog catching later. He pulled away, slowly limping towards the curtains at the far end of the stage. “This has been the worst BEST DAY of my eternal life,†Davy chuckled, gripping the fabric at the threshold, “but now, Cody, it’s bound to be the same best night FOREV—AAAARRRRRGGGHHH!!†Sunshine flooded through the ballroom’s skylight and filled the stage as Davy threw its curtains wide. He fled in smoking, melting tatters to the nearest shadow that remained... as a new dawn rose above a sleepy town that wasn’t Dayview.
New comic! Today's News: Thanks for waiting, thanks for reading! If you liked this update, consider kicking Paranatural a few bucks on Ko-fi! If you want to support Paranatural and want to see some behind-the-scenes extras (such as the design drawings for Ed's parents!), please consider contributing to Paranatural's Patreon! That's all for now, take care! Not much left in this chapter! :^) ~ [Transcript] “Oh, come now,†Davy groaned, slicing the stake out of the air and into two perfect King Solomon pieces. “That’s so crude! So Cousinhood!†He blocked a second volley of three more stakes with a flourish of his hook. “You’ve had a timeless stint in solitude to build a better bat trap! Where’s the holy water balloon? The solar flare gun? Where is the ingenious INNOVATION??†“Duck, you FOOL!†the Witch exclaimed. A massive fist tore through the fog. Davy dodged it just in time; he felt uncanny strength compress the air it struck instead. The sonic boom blew back his hair... and then the tattered cloak that had concealed the meaty arm of his assailant. Davy caught a glimpse of sutured flesh, a mottled quilt of multicolored muscle, before he was drawn deep into the dance of close-range combat. “Now you’re ripping ME off!†Davy laughed, aiming a riposte at his undead attacker. So THAT’S how they’d survived so long—they HADN’T! “YES,†the creature groaned, catching his wrist below the hook. “FIRST. THIS. ARM.†Gangrenous fingers slowly crushed him in a death grip. “THEN. THE. NEXT.†Davy winced; shattered glasses flashed beneath the creature’s hood. “THEN. I. WILL. RIP. OFF. YOUR. SCHEMING. HEAD.†“Every scientist stands on the shoulders of giants, Mr. Jones!†squeaked a second, muffled voice beneath the figure’s second hood. “My INNOVATION is copiloting said giant from said shoulders as he charges into battle! Isn’t that right, sweetie? Heh heh heh!†“HEH. HEH. HEH.†The two-headed hulk had driven Davy back to the hopscotch court’s third square. Free of the mist, its true form was revealed: not a cloak, but two stained lab coats stitched together; not one , but one man’s combined with countless other chunks of eldritch matter; not a second head, but a towering tank of bright green goo extending from his shoulder. Sophie Sybil snapped another photo in awestruck confusion. Her eyes and smartphone failed to capture the contents of the Frankenstein’s bubbling ectoplasm receptacle. If they had, she might have found a kindred spirit: a grinning rodent bobbed inside the jar, her unprotected brain alight with arcane electricity. Each spectral spark spiraled its way down to her jagged two-pronged tail, where it spread as instant signal through the flesh that it was fused with—a mouse plugged into its host to puppeteer him with techniques more Pikachu than Ratatouille. Hijack’s right half glimpsed a weird brain spirit piloting a buff, blonde, and mustachioed behemoth and was instantly head over heels in love. Who was this striking someone? They had so many things in common...! “You and your doting husband... always WERE attached at the hip, Gwen!†Davy grimaced, pushing back against the vast undead amalgam’s crushing strength. “Neck-and-neck’s a new connection, though... and more of a commitment... than remaining hand-in-hand!†Davy grinned. He was stronger than ten men—stitching them together didn’t change that math at all. “It’s good to mix things up... after so many years of marriage... but I don’t know if this experiment can keep things fresh POST-MORTEM!†Davy threw the creature’s grip aside with a surge of vampiric power. The undead Doctor Burger stumbled back. “Let’s see how you fare SEPARATED, SHALL WE?!†A savage slash fell short of its mark and severed one of the arms that had nearly torn Davy’s from his shoulder. It fell to the floor with a heavy thud. Ed’s long-missing father grunted—less in pain than in frustration. “Believe me, Bruce, I’ve been there,†Davy chuckled, giving him a roguish wink. The hulking zombie snorted back at him, feinted with his lost arm’s bloodless stump, then threw a wild left hook that was easily deflected. Davy snagged his trailing lab coat, yanked the doctors to one knee, then smacked them with the Witch’s head (“OW! You rancid BRUTE!â€) to add a bit of insult to the injury. “Well!†sighed a breathless Davy, pinning his reeling opponent to prepare a killing blow. “It was wonderful to see you both again, however briefl—AAARRGH!!†Davy Jones cried out in pain as a great white shark took a great white bite out of his leg. Razor Rex had lurched at him with limbs of pitch black wax, pulling him to the ground to seize him in her mighty beartrap jaws. “RRGH!! ANNOYING LITTLE MUTT—†Davy’s shout was cut short by the shadow that eclipsed him. Bruce Burger towered over his quarry, holding a wooden stake high in his sole remaining hand. “Likewise, Mr. Jones,†squeaked the spirit that had been Gwen from his shoulder. “I have dreamt of this reunion for what feels like an eternity.†The only weapon that could truly kill a vampire thrust straight down towards the heart of Davy Jones— “DAD!!†Cody hadn’t known that he could speak... just as the Doctors Burger hadn’t known that the monster they had been prepared to slay had raised a son. The stake stopped short an inch above its target. Before one second ticked into the next, Davy had exacted his revenge: a feral bite tore free a chunk of pale green flesh from Doctor Burger’s sutured calf. Kah-ting! He struck the wooden skewer from the flinching zombie’s hand, sending it sailing off across the room, then pummeled Doctor Burger with the blunt end of his backswing. Spitting eldritch sinew to the floor, Davy whirled on Razor Rex. There was a puff of blown-out birthday candle smoke and then a sound like cheering children. Davy’s hook struck floorboards where a shark had just been: Razor Rex was back to normal, levitating out of harm’s way with a strange box in her hand. “CH-CHILL OUT, DAVE!†she screeched as she retreated. “YOU’RE COVERED IN BLOOD AND YOU LOOK LIKE A BLOATED CADAVER—CAN YOU REALLY BLAME A SHARK FOR CHOWING DOWN?†“Th-that power!†gasped a mousey Gwen, swirling on her swaying husband’s shoulder. “How did you—†“OOPS!†The box that Razor Rex was holding—a gift wrapped in blue paper flecked with white shark silhouettes, tied up with a ribbon of bright, otherworldly rainbow—vanished from sight with a magical whoosh. Suddenly, while the Doctors Burger were distracted, Davy crashed upon them like a wave in gale-force winds. “I’ll keep your PIECES in FORMALDEHYDE, you labrat!†he snarled as they grappled at the portal’s shrouded threshold. “I’ll DISSECT YOUR MIND to STUDY what DEFECT could spawn DELUSIONS of DEFEATING ME!†Bruce Burger braced himself against the onslaught, locking his dead eyes with Davy’s. The vampire’s gaze flickered past him... then returned arm-in-arm with a devious grin. “On second thought... killing you would be too kind,†he hissed. Bruce Burger realized what he planned to do and thrust a hand towards Fauxbia, accelerated by a spark of wife-fueled reflex. The Witch shrieked as cold fingers closed like a vice around her eye socket. Davy, however, struck before the doctors had a chance to stop his scheme. The force of the blow wrenched the key from the Fear Witch’s skull. Ed’s parents were pushed back past reality, key held tight in Bruce’s hand, as the portal flashed and flickered closed behind them. The Great Unknown, through Peekaboo, stared at the closed door that had once led to the world beyond its prison. Then it slowly shrank back into fog and endless sleep.
New comic! Today's News: Thanks for waiting! Had to do a little less art than I wanted for this one, but I hope you enjoy it! Thanks for reading! If you liked the update, consider tossing me and Paranatural a few bucks on Ko-fi, or supporting the comic and helping me to make a living off it over on Patreon! Thank you, thank you, THANK you! ~ [Transcript] The Great Wight’s divided attention was forced back to a single point by Davy’s stolen heartbeat. Ba-dum! It wanted what he wanted. The heart within him thrummed with the force of his will... and Cody’s too. Amidst the dark ambition that surrounded it, the boy’s hope for a moonless sky, his hope for his mother, his hope for his father—it shone white like a bright star on a cloudless summer night. It was dazzling, like Dimitri’s, but faint, almost fragile, not the burning sun of hopeless hope that filled the spectral’s heart. Ba-dum! The dreaming spirit was transfixed. Cody’s wish was the crown jewel in a constellation, the sea of lesser lights beyond the stage. If only it could pluck it from the void that dwarfed them all... but Davy’s all-encompassing desire was the masterwork’s black canvas—and he, too, had a pull, a suffocating gravity, that the Great Wight couldn’t wrest itself away from. Ba-dum! Move! thought Mayor Hijack. Jump down! Kick his butt! It’s now or never! Save the day! His right half, however, was frozen with fear. Davy had made short work of the horrifying Witch. Hijack didn’t stand a chance divided. He was a fraction of one spirit... the odds were worse than even Lucifer had feared! It was hopeless. He couldn’t bring himself to face that horrid hook again. This time he’d die for sure, he had no doubt! Ba-dum! “Unlike you craven fools,†snapped Davy, sneering down at a writhing Razor Rex and at the Witch’s severed head, “I don’t intend to leave a list of my demands at the front desk.†Ba-dum! “Oh no! No, no, no. If you want to get something done right... you HAVE to speak DIRECTLY to the MANAGER!†Davy’s eyes burst into eerie beacons, lighthouses on the stage’s pitch black shore. He stood, now, at the bottom of the sea... before a locker, not a portal. Cryptide unfurled above him like leathery wings, like a Transylvanian castle lit by lightning in the distance. Ba-dum! Ba-dum! Darn it, darn it! Mayor Hijack trembled slowly to his feet—his left one first, and then his right. Every thinks I’m dead already! I m-m-might as well go out for REAL... pretending I’m a HERO...! While he had found a crumb of courage, however, he’d yet to find even a little bit of balance. Mayor Hijack’s foot (let’s not say which—or Witch, for that matter—lest we dismay the side responsible) snagged on the railing of the catwalk as he rose to vault beyond it. Mayor Hijack slipped, releasing a polyphonic “Oof!†and the goldfish he was holding simultaneously. Sophie Sybil, mouse that she was, squeaked a startled “Eek!†in chorus. Fauxbia craned her nonexistent neck up towards the noise. Ba-dum! Ba-dum! Ba-dum! Time had slowed for Cody as it had for Davy Jones. He heard his father laughing, almost saw something he couldn’t, felt the white-hot lonely gaze he’d sensed before and learned its source. There was something in the locker in this world he couldn’t see, the same vast, sleeping something just beyond the Witch’s door. Ba-dum! Ba-dum! BA-DUM! “NO MORE HIDING!†Davy boomed. He swept a hand out towards the Dayview he had built upon the stage. “CAST ASIDE YOUR COSTUME OF DEFIANCE... AND LET MY VISION REACH YOUR TRUE EYES, GREAT UNKNOWN!†The first mighty slice of his hook split the lock down the middle, and the locker it protected swung wide open. Ba-dum! BA-DUM! BA-DUM! The second slashed across the seam of an eye sealed shut by sleep, the teeming whirl of impossible color that the locker had revealed. “I DARE you, ancient spirit! Make REAL the dream I’ve laid before you! HEAR MY VOICE within your SLUMBER... and GRANT MY HEART’S DESIRE!†BA-DUM! BA-DUM! BA-DUM! The Great Wight’s eyelid fell aside. The oculus inside it bloomed like a fractal rainbow rosebud. Reticular vortices swirled into focus, glimpsing light, glimpsing darkness, for the first time in an eon that had fit within the span of thirteen years. Cody stared back, seeing nothing, seeing everything it was. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t speak. His pleas could only echo in the hollow of his chest. Please, he thought. If any part of what my dad wants is for me to be happy— BA-DUM! BA-DUM! BA-DUM! Davy swept aside—wild-eyed, giddy, and grinning with greed—to clear the Great Wight’s view of his grand vision. As Davy’s spirit trance dissolved, its mind’s eye pierced through Peekaboo’s perspective. It saw the world that he’d envisioned, and, just as he’d demanded, it mistook it for the world that always was... ...but it glimpsed several details that the vampire had missed. Cloud cover lurched aside as Hijack caught its swaying cables to support himself. It was a backdrop now, bucking upwards, falling down behind the islands like a wall of cotton fog. The hole that Razor Rex had forced the floor to suffer in her stead still yawned wide beside the portal. It claimed ocean at the margins of the model, an abyss of black amidst the stage’s blue. A once-bagged goldish burst free as it struck a West Hill billboard. The structure buckled, creasing the “D†in its “DAYVIEWâ€, and pet shop water blurred the cheerful Davy face beside it. The goldfish bounced in a majestic arc to flop upon the model’s plastic sea. The chaos was frozen in the aperture of the Great Unknown’s eye. High above the scene below, Sophie Sybil snapped a photo with the flash on by mistake. The Great Wight blinked. Within one tiny town, the world reset. For a moment, for a lifetime, everything was blinding light and color, roaring change, reality denying what the Great Wight had accepted. Then it forgot what it had been. What wasn’t and what was had traded places, and everything was settled, sure, and still. Davy had raised the tattered remains of his suit to shield his face, just like the draculas of old. The storm had struck so suddenly that he had missed the din of sabotage preceding it. Now, as his senses returned, he smelled the faintest whiff of seafoam on the air. Davy Jones took in the first breath that he’d bothered with in years. A sigh became a smile, which became a wicked grin. “Ah ha ha ha... AH-HAHA HA! YES! YES!! I’ve DONE it! I’ve DONE it! AHA HA HA!†He laughed maniacally, his sight a blur of swimming color. “Where was your LAST MINUTE GAMBIT, BOSS LEADER? WHERE were your SECRET AGENTS sweeping in to save the day? No INTERVENTION from dear DOORMAN? No pesky SWARM of MASTER GUERRA’S FINEST BRUTES? You’ve been SLACKING, my opponents! My OWN PAWNS gave me more trouble!†He heard the groaning of an addled Fauxbia and Razor Rex’s useless, livid writhing. He glimpsed the sleeping Great Wight’s sheet ghost limb slowly reforming from some otherworldly shape. Before he could take in his victory, though, before he could notice Hijack, Sophie Sybil, or the damage that their meddling might have caused... Davy heard a subtle klick klick klick! ring out beside his feet. A tiny stone had left the fog, sailed over a slumping Peekaboo, and landed in the hopscotch court’s first square. Davy stared at it, then smirked and rolled his eyes. “You’re much too late, old friends,†he drawled, stepping out to block the threshold. “I’ve already succeeded!†He was invincible. He was victorious. A chance to finish off his former cellmates... that was just icing on the cake. “Go on, then. Show me what mad science you’ve concocted to defeat me!†A wooden stake shot like a missile from the mist its spiral parted.
New comic! Today's News: Thanks for waiting! Some disruptive recent health stuff makes it hard to sit for long stretches of time, so my work schedule may be a bit bumpy for a bit. Understanding is appreciated! If you enjoyed this page, consider tossing me and Paranatural a few bucks over on Ko-fi! If you want to help support the comic and help me keep this my career, consider subscribing to Paranatural on Patreon! Thank you, and thanks for reading! ~ [Transcript] Dimitri had been tossing and turning, drifting in and out of fleeting, troubled dreams. He’d caught glimpses, when he’d closed his eyes, of Mayview drowned in bright white fog. Again and again, the town would fade from sight and memory as he watched it shrink in a moving van’s mirror... as if his waking world had been a vivid dream that he’d forgotten in his slumber’s stark reality. “Peekaboo!†said Peekaboo, and Dimitri realized that he’d woken up in spirit trance. “...Yeah. Peekaboo. Hey, buddy,†he mumbled, blearily rubbing the lingering mist from his eyes. Dimitri squinted at his spirit, which had stretched up beside his bed to bob just inches from his face. “Look, I... I had a long day. It’s bedtime, Peekaboo. Too late to play.†“Peekaboo doesn’t want to play,†the sheet ghost said matter-of-factly. That’s a first, Dimitri thought, sinking back into his pillow. “All right, then. G’night—†“But Peekaboo promised that Peekaboo would,†his spirit added. “Even though it’s not with Didi. Even though the game is boo boo boring.†“...Mm,†Dimitri muttered back, unshuttering his eyelids with some effort. What was Peekaboo talking about? Had it had a bad dream, too? Of course his spirit’s worst nightmare was “a game that wasn’t fun.†It must be nice, Dimitri thought, to never have to wake up from the blissful innocence of childhood. “Should Peekaboo still Peeka-play?†The spirit’s empty eyes swirled with a darkness darker than the gloom of Dimitri’s Halloween-drenched bedroom. “Peekaboo can break a promise. Peekaboo can break the rules.†Its viscous tremored slightly. “Peekaboo can break anything, once Peekaboo wakes up.†“It’s not time yet, Peekaboo. Go back to sleep.†Dimitri grabbed the covers and cocooned himself with a sigh, turning away to face the empty wall. Truthfully, Dimitri didn’t know if Peekaboo even needed sleep... but HE did, and he wasn’t going to get any if he kept entertaining his spirit and its whims well after midnight. “...Okay,†came Peekaboo’s dejected answer seconds later. It was tired of sleeping... but Dimitri was smart. He’d know if it was time to tear the world ajar again. “You should always keep a promise.†Dimitri, half-asleep, had mumbled out an afterthought, some stray advice he’d only half-considered. “...Even if it’s boo boo boring?†“Even if it’s boo boo boring,†sighed the spectral. “And follow the rules when you’re playing a game. The space between them is the best part. What would chess be if the pieces moved wherever you decided?†“Fun!†“No,†Dimitri grumbled, pulling his blankets even higher. “It would be boo boo boring. You can’t always get what you want, Peekaboo.†An autumn chill leaked through the walls of the only home that Dimitri had ever known. The spectral shivered. “Peekaboo wants what Didi wants.†“...Uh-huh.†“Peekaboo can still hear Didi’s wish! Peekaboo remembered that tonight it could come true!†Even leadened by its slumber, the mind beneath its sheet was still too vast to be contained within a single mortal moment; its present overflowed to fill the recent past and looming future. “Didi doesn’t want to leave. Didi wants to make every happy!†Peekaboo smiled. Dimitri was right. The space between... it was the best part. Between the bridges, boats, and buildings. Between the trees, beneath the ocean. A hill away, another set of pitch black eyes surveyed the blueprint set before it. For all its detail, its crafters had neglected to include a single person in their dream. There was still so much to play with, so many questions with their answers still unknown... “...You can’t make every happy, Peekaboo.†The spirit’s vacant gaze fixed on Dimitri’s back, its rise and fall in steady, slowing breaths. “Someone always has to lose. Someone out there always wins at their expense.†Dimitri had seen it again and again. Happiness took sacrifice, whether noble or unwilling, on the altar of some else’s dream. Life was something whittled down to search for it, day by day and piece by piece, in a death march driven by each pawn’s hope that it would reach the other side. “The world’s not fair. That’s just how it is.†Peekaboo considered this. It grew an arm to scratch its chin and then a chin for it to scratch. “Didi wants... something impossible?†Dimitri didn’t answer. “Then how can Peekaboo make Didi happy?†In his dawning dreams, Dimitri watched as mist and distance drained the color from his friends. Without them, something else rushed in to fill the void they’d left... a crushing, lonely lack that he could only ever briefly turn away from. He couldn’t fix it. He knew he couldn’t. So, instead, he could at least make sure... that everyone he envied and admired... “So long as... Mom and Dad and Dana...†Dimitri’s voice was faint and flickering, the last embers of a candle soon to fade. “So long as... Isabel... and Suzy... all my friends...†He drifted off, snuffed out before the wish was halfway spoken. To Peekaboo, however, he still shone with blooming warmth. Hundreds of hearts across the lake were pleading for its power, but Dimitri’s was as bright as all their brightest hopes combined. Peekaboo didn’t understand. It was lost and lonely just like him, but its colossal heart was cold and hollow. If it could make Dimitri’s wish come true, would its heart shine like his did, too? Or would it need a shining heart to ever know how it could grant it? The last of the Great Wights watched Dimitri sleep with envy, love, and hunger. It let its puppet sink back down into the floor... and then the floor receded, too, the blocks and toys retreating with it, the walls and ceiling of the playroom it had made for them to share. A shifting limb slid back at a sleepwalker’s pace, down a hill and through a forest left distorted by its murmurs, to the fog-enshrouded lake where it was resting like the boy it had befriended. All else was still—its floating heart, its reaching hands, the weeping trees above Dimitri—save for a boat upon the water, the writhing shark beyond its cabin’s open door... and the second, smaller vessel slowly rowing out to meet it. Dimitri shivered underneath an eldritch sky. Then he pulled the covers higher, and his spirit trance dissolved back to his bedroom’s peaceful darkness.
New comic! Today's News: It's all fun and maniacal laughter until you get eaten by a shark in front of your son. Hey, thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this page as much as I did, consider tossing me a few bucks on Ko-fi! If you would like to support the comic and keep it going strong, please support Paranatural on Patreon! Thank you, thank you! ~ [Transcript] Though Fauxbia had foreseen each second leading to this moment, though she had crossed each stitch and thread each needle as she’d woven her grand scheme to its conclusion... something had gone wrong. No new deific power had exploded through her ; Peekaboo stared up at her without a hint of fear in its black eyes. “D-didn’t you HEAR me?! I—I d-d-DARED you TO...†The Witch’s warbling sputtered to a whimper of frustration. Fauxbia, to her dismay, was uniquely equipped to understand the nature of her failure. Sheer strength, even a Great Wight’s strength, was not enough to flout the absolutes of a lesser spirit’s power. She’d forced the game with a binding vow, enforced its rules, and banned the truth without a hitch. When it came to the dare that she’d given, though, two absolutes conflicted. She’d felt that sputtering void of contradictory powers canceling out before—it was just like when the Sphinx of Truth short-circuited her yellow-bellied brother and vice versa. Fauxbia gnashed her gnarled teeth at Peekaboo. Some unknown power had prevented her from forcing it to fear her...! “It’s not f-f-FAIR! Th-that should have WORKED! Who... who has ROBBED me of MY destiny?!†“DON’T LOOK AT ME!†screeched Razor Rex. “I DIDN’T HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH IT.†The Witch, however, failed to parse her words as a confession. She was distracted by the flash of silver shredding shields she’d thought could stop it, by the claws seizing her fiercely by the fabric, and by the hook pressed up against the dangling string that was her neck. “Awful CONFIDENT in your funny little tricks tonight, WEREN’T you, Fauxbia?!†snapped Davy Jones. His wounds closed in an instant as he tore the threads that pierced him from his side. “Why ELSE would a cowardly INSECT like YOU welcome DEATH by ATTACKING MY SON?!†Gone was his mirth and his debonair charm; Davy had become a savage, snarling, blood-starved beast. Something still more gaunt and monstrous writhed beneath his sallow skin, an alter ego begging to be loosed, to be allowed to spread its wings after a lifetime’s restful roosting at the apex of the food chain. Cody watched in rattled silence, still rendered speechless by his father’s strict command. While Davy could protect him, Cody couldn’t move an inch. He’d keep him safe at any cost, just like he always claimed he would—his dad had thrown himself in harm’s way to defend him from the Witch. Cody wondered if the act had made his heart beat any faster. As the young vampire watched his father’s injuries stitch shut, however, doubt again replaced the spark of hope he’d briefly found. What did a love expressed at any cost mean when that cost was always covered? If safety meant that Cody would remain stuck fast and silent, then wasn’t he the one that paid the price? Dark thoughts entered Cody’s mind unbidden. He wanted to be hard to love, to make his dad have to endure much worse than fleeting pain to keep him. Would he do it? Cody fought back pangs of guilt—just one more moment as a monster. Would his father ever give him something that he couldn’t stand to lose? “W-wait!†begged Fauxbia, writhing like a worm on Davy’s hook. “YOU can’t kill ME! The door! The p-p-PORTAL! If I’M destroyed—†“LOOK WHO’S COME AROUND ON DEAD MAN’S SWITCHES,†Razor Rex teased, sidling past them and the hole that she had transferred from her to the stage. “Shut UP, you YAPPING runt! A fraud LIKE you can’t—EEK!!†There was a sound of snapping string as Davy’s hook severed her head. Then, with a furious roar, he hurled it at full strength across the room. As it bounced with a thud off the curtain, Davy swept in close at bestial speed to seize it once again. “What makes you think you’ve EARNED your death?! The price upon your head has just SKYROCKETED, old hag, and I intend to make you PAY IT in INSTALLMENTS!†Davy held Fauxbia’s head aloft by its hair of tangled yarn, a Medusa slain by a Perseus as monstrous as his prey (and just as prone to scare one stiff when spotted in a mirror). Fauxbia, however, was not slain—Davy’s hook had sliced the space itself and not her threadbare neck. It was the first decapitation that had ever been survived (if one thought little of the world and all its wonders; Fauxbia alone had lost her head a dozen times, and only twice with help from blades possessed by Cryptide). “You should THANK me!†spat the Witch, struggling to swing close enough to bite Davy on the chin. “I almost SAVED you FROM a wasted wish! DAYVIEW—bah! ALL the power of a god in REACH, and you think it’s BEST traded for the power of your AVERAGE local MAYOR?!†Not far above, the Hijacks twitched, as though they’d heard their mother call their name. “SENILE FOOL! I’ll rip you into ribbons SEAM BY SEAM!†growled Davy Jones. “...You two are so pathetically predictable,†purred Razor Rex. Fauxbia and Davy snapped to face her, startled by her lack of screeching volume. The self-proclaimed goddess was kneeling at the threshold of the portal, picking black wax from her nose... right next to Peekaboo. She flicked a booger past it, off into the endless haze of swirling fog. “HEY, SO,†continued Razor Rex, returning to the caterwaul that everyone was fond of, “I DOUBLE DOG DARE YOU. MAKE ME A GREAT WIGHT.†Her shriek dropped to a diabolic hiss as her wish left her... and was granted. Davy’s eyes went wide with shock. “NO!†was all that he had time to say before a greater voice drowned out his own just like a candle at the bottom of the ocean. Peekaboo swelled in resonance; behind it, far behind it, something mumbled in its sleep. The world was perfect white and every color, a whirlpool supernova of pure liquid possibility, a Big Bang with the Death Cult’s quirky goddess at its heart. Cody felt as though he might unspool. The Hijacks held a scream in with more strength than they had used to hurl a hitball. Sophie Sybil juggled her phone as a sound beyond her senses struck her soul; her finger brushed a fateful camera setting as she caught it just in time. Fauxbia and Davy howled in fury as the truth collapsed around them, then converged on Razor Rex... who dropped her scythe and fell back to the floor. She’d had little other choice, in fact, now that she’d been transformed into a writhing great white shark. “N-NO! YOU USELESS SLUG,†she tried to shout, but only flared her gills and flopped about. “DON’T YOU GENIE WISH ME! I’M A GODDESS! I’M SUPPOSED TO BE A GODDESS!!†Davy’s horror melted drop by drop. It was a smile, now, a chuckle next... and then a helpless fit of laughter more maniacal than he had ever been inspired to release. “AHA-HA HA-HA HA HA HA!! You have a SENSE OF HUMOR, little friend!†he beamed at Peekaboo. “WELL, that’s one display of free will that I simply must excuse! In fact, I’d like to take that monkey’s paw of yours and SHAKE YOUR LITTLE HAND! Make me a Great Wight—HA! You BOTH really believed you could betray me! Did you think I formed this circle for the fun of it?†He thumped his bloodstained chest. “I’M the one who earned the Great Wight’s interest! I’M the one whose vision tempts it! I’M the one whose wish pervades the hearts beyond this stage! Don’t you get it?! You’ve done NOTHING to make your petty dreams reality. You ASPIRE to a POWER that I’ve captured on a LEASH!†Davy kicked Razor Rex and her scythe aside and shook a shell-shocked Fauxbia like a dirty turnip he’d just pulled up from his garden. “The Sphinx’s power. Now. Or I’ll push the Burgers’ house key through your brain.†“Make a better OFFER!†spat the Fear Witch. “YOU still NEED me!†She writhed in Peekaboo’s direction. “Choose TRUTH now, before HE speaks his dare—†“Do as I COMMAND you,†snarled Davy, covering her mouth, “and I won’t KILL YOU—†“DEAL!!†Fauxbia squawked, cutting Davy’s sentence short before he could complete his vicious threat. Her eyes shone purple—she’d secured him in a contract with the power of the Sphinx of Pacts’ compulsive Binding Vow. “Live to serve, then,†Davy growled, a black vein popping in his brow, “or die defying me.†Fauxbia shivered, though a thousand schemes were slowly weaving sparks between her synapses. “The OTHER Sphinx’s power, NOW, you beautiful baby—†Davy stopped, then found a smile. “Ah. See? Was that so hard?†He turned to Peekaboo. “Let’s end this trite charade, shall we?†Across the lake, beyond the hill, Dimitri woke up in his bed.
New comic! Today's News: Wait whose godly power. Hey thanks for reading! If you enjoyed the page, consider tossing me and Paranatural a few bucks on Ko-fi! Even better, support Paranatural on Patreon! Thank you! ~ [Transcript] “Well?†snickered a frantic Fauxbia, dangling over Peekaboo like a spooky chandelier. “What WILL it be? I bet there’s HEAPS of haunting TRUTHS inside that SLEEPYHEAD you speak for...†Davy grinned, wiping black blood from his brow. “How long did you wander the darkness of our world before I found you? Was it centuries? Millennia?†“Are YOU ashamed that a STOOGE like RICHARD SPENDER got the credit for DEFEATING you?†“DO YOU LIKE ME. AM I PRETTY.†Razor Rex had shaken off the shock of near-destruction, or at least had caught enough breath to expend some as hot air. Peekaboo, however, just stared vacantly back at the PTA. “What’s the matter? Having TROUBLE choosing TRUTH? Try harder! You can DO it! HEH heh HYEKK!†The Witch cackled triumphantly, basking in the radius of another power that she’d stolen from a shard of the Great Sphinx. The golden lummox it belonged to had proven less cowardly than he’d initially appeared (or at least too dense for subtler forms of fright)... but Fauxbia had seized his silly talent in the end. Now she’d put it to even better use than she had his puny sister’s zone of twuth—try as their sheet ghost meal ticket might, it couldn’t speak a single honest word within her presence. “Can it be?†considered Davy, saccharinely sympathetic. “Have you no option but to pick DARE, little friend? I’m so sorry! But worry not... I’ve prepared a perfect paradise for you to dare to dream into existence...†The vampire mastermind stalked closer, staring deep into the pitch black of Peekaboo’s eyes. “...Is this not how it SHOULD be? Isn’t this your TRUEST SELF? Why play at ego and defiance any longer?†Davy swept his hook out to the crowd beyond the curtain. “Can you not feel the beating hearts you envy so? Their rhythm joined with mine—can’t you tell that that’s what TRUE volition sounds like? Can’t you sense that your sole purpose is to grant their earnest wish?†Cody felt his phantom heartbeat echo back into his chest. No... it was the hum beyond the door, metamorphosing from breath to palpitation, synchronizing with his father’s stolen pulse. Peekaboo was trembling to its hammering percussion. Ferrofluid landscapes were extending, pseudopod-like, from its silhouette, then hesitating back to smooth white moments later. “Hide under the covers! Peer with yearning from your locker! Choose to flee your nature... or REVEL in the freedom of surrender to control. Think! Were you not swaddled deep in sleep’s delusion, would not the GREAT UNKNOWN be glad to serve its settler’s vision?†Davy grinned in rapturous glee. “Wouldn’t you be HAPPY to be ANYTHING WE WANTED?†The fog beyond the door swirled wildly, displaced by something stirring in its sleep. “YOU’RE SO LUCKY THAT WE FOUND YOU!†Razor Rex screeched. “We’re ALL here for the SAME wish.†“Accept your only choice, my little friend. We DARE you to—†Davy stopped mid-sentence. His eyes, burning with violence, rose to Fauxbia; he’d realized what it meant if what she’d uttered was a lie. The Fear Witch smiled wide enough to stretch her tattered stitches to their limit. “What’s WRONG, Davy dearest? Everything’s about to go EXACTLY as you PLANNED!†All three villains of the PTA sparked with savage reflex, but Fauxbia was fastest—she’d been ready for this moment. The little ghostly mouthpiece might not have a choice in what would happen next... but SHE had her pick of the litter! Beelzebug’s BULLET Time! Greenhorn’s Beginner’s Luck! QUIZ Knight’s MULTIPLE CHOICE!! The world split in four as the Witch was drawn into the theater of her mind: the spotlit set of a garish mental gameshow. Here, her future had been laid out on a quartet of bright screens, ready to be filmed before a live studio audience. Tch! A freakish MONSTER to THE end! cursed Fauxbia, surveying the four futures she could choose from. Even having hoarded fortune’s favor, three of the four screens still showed her doom at Davy’s hand. The next few seconds of the fourth, though, showed great promise. They showed great promise indeed... How FORTUNATE for me... that Davy brought his GREATEST WEAKNESS up on STAGE! Fauxbia pressed the big red button on the podium before her. Instantly, she was rocketed through tunnel vision to the future she had chosen, emerging to the sound of canned applause. Just as she’d foreseen, she sent a spray of string at Cody. Just as she’d foreseen, his father whirled to slice the salvo from the air. Just as she’d foreseen, it left him open for the second volley, a mesh of threads that had congealed to run him through. That was all it would take. She’d already foreseen it. A grunt of pain instead of speech. A vapid gasp from Razor Rex, a “BUT FAUXBY, MY COOL VOLCANO—!â€. That was all the time she’d need to steal a Great Wight’s godly power. “I DARE YOU,†Fauxbia shrieked down at Peekaboo, “TO FEEEEEAR ME!!â€
New comic! Today's News: Oh phew it's just that guy. Hey Dimitri I think your ghost got out or something. Thanks for reading! Support Paranatural on Patreon! I also just recently created a Ko-fi for Paranatural, so if all you can spare is a couple bucks, you can donate there to help support the comic! I would be forever grateful. See you next time! ~ [Transcript] “PEEKABOO!†“PEEKABOO!†Bobbing at the threshold of a fog-shrouded rift in reality was a tiny, smiling, cartoon gumdrop ghost. Cody blinked. The hum, the loneliness, the wrongness of the world—none of it had lessened in the slightest... but now a playful presence perched upon it like a bowtie on a bear. “Ahoy there, little friend! Remember me?†beamed Davy Jones, looming like an uncle doomed to make a newborn cry. The sheet ghost’s smile melted to a frown. “YOU’RE SCARING IT, DAVE! THE POOR THING’S AS PALE AS A GHOST!†laughed Razor Rex, her eyes aglow. “TRUST ME: THERE’S NO NEED TO BE AFRAID OF US. RIGHT, FAUXBY?†The Witch’s face was dangling from the doorframe like a doll decapitated. As she slowly turned in circles, both of her eyes stayed fixed upon the puny phantom. “HEH heh HEH heh! But OF course, NO need at all...†she uttered unconvincingly. The ghost, however, seemed convinced. Its vacant smile returned, though it was still too shy to speak. “That’s right!†said Davy, dropping to a squat. “You should be THRILLED to see us! Think back: before your last bedtime, before you were tucked in beneath that sheet... some promised they would PLAY with you when you woke up, now didn’t they?†The ghost’s smile widened. It nodded, squirming where it stood upon the ground beyond the door. Or was it ground? Cody could make out damp wooden slats just past the threshold; he could still hear sloshing water, too, and Fauxbia’s fabric had gone rigid where it had swung out past reality, swaying like saloon doors in a rusty, creaking rhythm. The sheet ghost... was it standing on a boat? “Well, WE won the game of hide-and-seek that FIBBER left unfinished. Why wait around with a losing record, bored and lonely, dreaming of the day you’ll get a rematch? Why not play BETTER GAMES, the games WE want to play, right now?†Davy’s wicked grin stretched past his gums. The sheet ghost nodded excitedly. Cody squinted to focus his eyes on it. What was this creature? If it was a spirit, then why could he see it? The whole world beyond the doorway seemed to be purely supernatural... but the rift had bridged the gap between his senses and its secrets. In the rafters above, a rattled and impatient Sophie Sybil clicked her tongue. “W-what are they talking about? Who are they talking to? I can’t get a shot from this angle...!†whispered the amateur reporter. “H-huh?†Mayor Hijack blinked one eye free from its daze and then another. “Hey, wait! W-where are you GOING?!†It was too late to stop her. Sister Mouse had crept ahead along the catwalk, a place no rodent dared to tread without a death wish. “What’s that?†Davy asked, cupping his hook to his ear. “I can’t hear you!†“Peekaboo will play! Peekaboo LOVES games!†cheered Peekaboo. Davy exchanged a glance with Fauxbia; her eyes were glowing violet as the tiny ghost agreed. The SPHINX of PACTS’ Binding VOW! she cackled in her head, invoking stolen power. She sneered triumphantly at Davy as chains closed upon the eager phantom’s fate— Peekaboo frowned. It had felt a foul curse grasp it. It had been bound in some way. It didn’t like it. It had been trapped long enough. Peekaboo shuddered like a flan struck with a spoon. The fog behind it swirled, condensed; there was a sound of air unzippering. Davy’s shoulder burst in a gout of black gore. A gaping hole was punched through Razor Rex. The Witch’s dangling head was tetherballed at blinding speed into the air. The PTA had been barraged by something deadly, an energy that Cody couldn’t see once it had left the portal. DAD! he tried to scream, but his father’s command to stay silent held strong. The tearing air was silenced, too, as Davy’s hook flashed in a line across the floorboards. Fauxbia screeched in dizzy fright as her head spun about, unharmed; as fast as danger struck, it hadn’t reached her. Razor Rex’s glowing eyes had been snuffed out—now, with a pained hiss, she forced them back to flickering life. A stumbling swipe at the floor produced a sound like cheering toddlers at a pizza party, and the hole in her side vanished, reappearing as a pit carved through the stage. “AH HA HA HA!†laughed a feral, gleeful Davy, licking black blood from his face as he regenerated. Flesh and bone had grown like mold across his mortal wounds in seconds; the blast had pierced him, but it was no wooden stake. “L-like to... ROUGHHOUSE, do you?! Then you’ve found the PERFECT PLAYMATES!†Peekaboo stared blankly back at him. It drifted forward... and squished flat against thin air. “S-SILLY little SPOONFUL,†stammered Fauxbia, swinging slowly to a stop. She gestured at the markings on the floor, the chalk that spanned the open portal. “D-don’t you KNOW how HOPSCOTCH works? You have to JUMP, my sweet!†Peekaboo paused, as if in thought. Then it stretched a full foot higher. It grew a gap to make its base look like crude legs. It widened, thinned, and wobbled... but it couldn’t leave the ground. “No WAY around it, then,†the Witch snickered. Not WITH the Sphinx of GAMES’ Binding RULES enforcing PROPER play! “ANOTHER G-GAME... WILL HAVE TO DO...!†wheezed Razor Rex, braced against her scythe to stay afloat. “Since you agreed we’d get to choose...†a now-uninjured Davy oozed, “how about a round of TRUTH OR DARE?â€
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