The latest piece from Aftershock, “Blood Blister” is a weird, body-horror promising title from sometimes writer Phil Hester (his second book at the publisher) and the vibrant, detailed pencils of Tony Harris. But can the creative team deliver on this intriguing concept?
Written by Phil Hester
Illustrated by Tony HarrisSin is a joke to Brandon Hull. Morality a crutch for the weak, laws mere tools to be abused. But when the corruption he scoffed at begins to manifest on his once-perfect body, Hull finds himself cast into a hidden world of unspeakable horror from which there is no escape. How can you be saved when the evil possessing you is your own soul?
Opening a jarring window on to a world of horror from the writer of The Coffin, Firebreather, and Deathstroke and the Eisner Award-winning artist of Ex-Machina and Starman.
The concept of this story is one that I didn’t completely understand upon first reading, but it seems to read as a religious cautionary tale of sorts. Hester writes protagonist Brandon Hull as a despicable business man type, someone who skips his son’s baseball games and gets his secretary to stand in for him, and someone who shoves homeless people on the street. It’s a pretty straightforward characterization but one which doesn’t allow for much depth.
Brandon is as cardboard cut out as businessmen go and honestly, considering the context, I feel Hester doesn’t write him as horrible as the solicits make him out to be. The way that he writes his dialogue is pretty grounded and not particular noteworthy, particularly when talking to his secretary, Karla, on his phone. Using the description ‘beached whale’ to describe someone and not spending time with your son may be petty, but I don’t feel it elevates the character to ‘evil possessed’ and ‘sinful’ level.
However, the world of “Blood Blister” is intriguing and so subversive to the character of Brandon that it makes the story enjoyable. Hester opens the book with a possessed, obese woman from Oklahoma screaming that Brandon is the devil. Not only this, but we have the book’s namesake pop up on our protagonist’s arm in a rather disgusting sequence about halfway through, seemingly to make Brandon’s outer appearance indistinguishable to his personality. The book works as a disturbing horror story in this way, particularly in the haunted house sequence. We get some skin crawling content in these pages, from giant flying babies to massacred children, however the haunted house trope throws any originality attempt out the door and feels shallow in execution.
The main draw, as I’m sure anyone looking to pick up this book would agree, is Tony Harris’ art. A veteran artist whose works include “Starman” and “Ex Machina”, Harris brings it all to the table here. His work looks gruesome in the best possible way, from the startling depiction of the obese woman Lex at the start, to the dripping, gooey blood blister Brandon sports on his arm. Harris is great at making the mundane seem dark and interesting, and this is especially evident in the sequence with Brandon in his office meeting. The borders close in on the scene with intricate detailing, giving off a claustrophobic aura that really complements the scripting. Both Brandon and his boss, Mr. Shaney are intricately detailed and bear twisted facial expressions that convey evil much more than the dialogue and scripting do.
Harris’ art works great sequentially as well, with the blood blister scene being the stand out of the entire issue. We’re presented with a Ditko-esque nine panel sequence for two pages that flips back and forth between Brandon talking on the phone, and his pierced blister oozing and dripping blood. The tension is high throughout this scene as Harris’ disturbingly detailed art shows great pacing. Knowing which panel to put next is important, and Harris knows which details should be rendered to make the reader feel as unnerved and squeamish as possible.
The setting works as a great sandbox for Harris to display his talents here, as the real world scenes feel drab compared to the haunted house setting. You could almost forgive Hester for using such a stereotypical horror trope here because Harris packs it with vibrant, expressive art that is as beautiful as it is horrifying. The characters are bathed in shadow at the start of the house, but light is slowly shed on them as the monsters come crawling in, showcasing once again Harris’ eye for storytelling. And boy, these are some terrifying creepy crawlies. Harris is visceral in his depiction of the giant floating babies, giving them grotesque, wrinkled faces that stare in glee as they rip apart trapped children. The sequence is capped off brilliantly, with both the claustrophobic camera and otherworldly demons closing in on Brandon, eyes popping as his body is gripped by numerous clawed hands.
Continued belowGuy Major’s coloring is great at making Harris’ art pop, and uses a familiar limited color palette that works great at scene setting. Major is effective in conveying sequential storytelling, especially in the haunted house scene. The house opens with a cold, bluish tone that changes to an aggressive red palette as the tension and pacing comes to a climax. Similarly, he gives the body horror scenes an unnerving shine, giving them a really bulbous, unnatural feeling.
My only problem with Harris’ art is that it can be a little too cartoonish for its own good at times. For the two pages that we see Brandon’s son, he’s little more than a gleeful, generically rendered child who’s only two facial expressions are absurdly happy or shockingly upset. It disrupts the flow of the reading considering it occurs in the middle of the story, but it’s a short scene amidst the rest of the issue, so it’s passable.
Final Verdict: 6.3 – An intriguing premise with some generic delivery that is saved by Harris’ gruesome artwork.
