231: Last Legs of Her Journey

ACOLYTES and higher: 1 featured full color artwork + 3 b/w works in progress
DISCIPLES and higher: 2 full color artworks + 2 works in progress
For more details on membership tiers, ways to support the site and how to purchase comics/collections, click here. The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred. 

 

Dear Patrons,

The Discord experiment seems to be a worthwhile endeavor. Though still small, there's a healthy and constructive community having healthy discussions out there and I will give special mention to Deepeye for helping me manage that side of the world as much of my time is spent disappearing into my stories and art. Being more active on social media may have me walk into that same trap George R.R. Martin fell into. Again, the Discord link has changed. See below.

Click on the link below to join Forbiddenfeast on Discord:
This link is viewable to ACOLYTE, DISCIPLE members or higher & valid for a month as of 16 May 2022. If the link has expired, message me and I'll create a new link.
 

And with that, here's another short vignette in the style I enjoy approaching, where images reveal some horrific connotations (for members, of course), while the text make up a story on the point of view of those who are close to the darkening abyss, that of the intrepid Doe Patrol.

Bon app├ętit!

 


 

I. EXCERPT OF A PRIVATE CONVERSATION BETWEEN MEMBERS OF THE DOE PATROL

It makes me feel small. The more we dig and dig and dig... and the more disturbing our answers... It's like when we think we've finally found an answer, the floor bottoms out under us. I... I don't think I can go on.

We need you. I need you. Please don't go.

You don't understand do you? They don't want you. You're fine. Enjoy being unwanted. Throwaway men, hairy, tough and rough around the edges. No, they don't want you. Men don't have pageants showing your bare ass to the public like some blue ribbon prized cow. I don't know if you can understand how that makes me feel. Like... like fucking product. Looked at like some sort of prize to be purchased at an auction. Consumed. For God knows how long they've been doing this to us. Hundreds, thousands of years? Enjoy being hunters because it sure beats being providers. These monsters disgusts me, not because what they have done to those missing women, but... it's more than that. It affects our relationship and how I think you see me.

No, I never see you like that... I mean not in that way. You know what I mean. You're beautiful, and wonderful, and sweet...

And good enough to eat?

...

I used to love it when you say that to me but now those words have a completely different meaning. I used to think that I'm strong and independent. High school yearbook says, super-smart, curious and industrious, class valedictorian most likely to succeed as the next Martha Gellhorn. It's what up here between my ears that makes up my worth... not... I can't even bear to say it...

You don't need to. I understand.

I can be bitter about how all of you men are just the same and as toxic as all of the rest. It's even cheap for me to say it because I know those types and I don't feel like them, the feminist 'time's up' types, but... but... if I have to be honest, deep down, I really do feel that way. These men in the shadows, they are predators on a higher level. They are almost not even human I'll say because humans are cattle to them. And you know, in some deep fucked up part of me, I sometimes even get aroused by that to be seen like how those monsters see their victims. And that's when they won, congratulations! They got even me to look myself that way. What about you? Have they gotten to you? When you look at me, I sometimes ask myself when push comes to shove, are you capable?

Capable of what?

Of being like them. When matters become hopeless. When you are cornered like so many of their vassals who fall into their web and are forced to work for them, then slowly become them. When push comes to shove.

Never. Please believe me.

Are you sure? 

That's not fair.

Never mind. You're right. Don't answer that. I don't think I want to hear the answer anyway. I just feel a little hopeless right now. I'm sorry. One day you feel like you're at the top of the world, and the next...

-- to be continued? --

 


 

BONUS SKETCHES & WORKS IN PROGRESS:

 

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