Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Art for the Apocalypse and Custom Work

2012 is nearing to an end, and I would like to show some of the work I did in the beginning of the year:

While I had a lot of ideas for Undead Machinery, I only recently decided to showcase them on the internet. I had a lot of excess work, which wasn't connected to any of my main projects, so it helped from an organizational standpoint to assemble it all into one blog. However, I hadn't shown what I had created during the time of my final exams. Since I primarily focus on comics, illustrations and writing, the only term I can find for this is "artwork". 

My point being, I'm considering taking commissions for custom artwork, illustrations and various designs. I will go into further detail on that in another post, but I can tell you that there will be a free trial before charging a fee on "Tryout Tuesday".

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Trigger Warning

I'd like to point out that there are now some TWs for the stories (shorts included). Please notify undeadmachinery@gmail.com if there is a TW, not already present, that you would like to see on the list.

Monday, November 19, 2012

Tea Time of the Dead > Page 3

Day 1

Me after my imprisonment.

It's hot out. Boiling even. I've collected a series of weapons today:

- baseball bat
- tennis racket
- unloaded AK47
- hockey stick
- piece of a telephone wire
- butcher knife

It's officially been 4 years since it happened, so I decided to start off with a new journal. I will give a recap:

Saturday, November 17, 2012


  Maya was a little girl walking down the path of a deep forest. There where cypresses along the road which she skipped along joyously. There wasn't much to do around her grandmother's besides walk the forest path. She would pretend there were monsters and wolves in the darkness, they would jump out and scare her. Then, she would remove the kitchen knife from her pocket and pretend to stab them. It was thrilling. But, she was always home by nightfall.

  This, Maya had remembered forever. She was dead now. Once, a real monster had attacked her. A monster disguised as a man. He had used an unloaded gun, which he'd tried to hit her with. She had stabbed him in the head: a fatal blow. Afterwards, she'd gone home, eaten her macaroni and cheese, and died of untreated apendicitis.

Saturday, November 10, 2012

What happens after you take over the world.

There had been life here previously. But, now everything was dead. I cut down the trees, and chopped everything in the forest. No more people were left to watch, but I had managed to fend for myself pretty well during that time. It bothered me to think about the others. It was nice being out here alone and all, but-

I decided to set out and see what I could find. There was a store, in an even-more-deserted-than-usual area around the highway. I had been here before, to the Middle of Nowhere, but with others. This time you could hear wind, smell air.

The store was empty, of course. I checked the fridge. A year old beer. Not fresh or anything. I tasted it. Nope. Not fresh.

A sound. Coming from the back was a sound. The storage room. That's where it came from. I slowly stepped forward, picking up a baseball bat "For Sale" along the way. I had not seen another human being in a full year. A full year, three months, two days and an hour and thirty minutes to be precise (my watch still worked, and I like to keep track of the days).

Something hit me. I looked up - tried to look up. Something dripping on my hands... Damn kids. I stared at what looked like a reflection. It was myself. Like a mirror. I turned around to see if anyone else was accompanying this "other me". The image slowly faded away, and I found myself in the store again. Alone. Well, actually not really, I was more or less with myself. That's right. It's a good thing I had gotten rid of the others. Sometimes I had to remind myself of how it felt to be with just me. I had gotten rid of them, and left some for later. Then, I had taken care of them too. There weren't anymore left now. I stepped over one of the bleeding bodies and reached for another beer. There would be enough for the next few weeks or so. After that, I'd just have to find another store. In the meantime, might as well enjoy my world, finally free of the one thing I hated most: people.

Thursday, November 8, 2012

Dear Grim Reaper > Death Inc. > Page 3

  Madison rested her head, now delightfully attached to her body, on the arm of the living room sofa. Her parents would be home soon, and would most likely be shocked by the amount of blood oozing across the floor, making it seem as though the cleaning lady had confused Mr. Clean with thick cherry Kool-Aid. She still remembered what had happened before resurrecting. The land of the dead was strange and frightening indeed, but it somehow had phased her less than expected. She had spent so many years trying to be normal, that she had almost forgotten who she used to be.

Madison, age 12, tampers with an assortment of objects in an attempt to communicate with the deceased.

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

What You Don't Know About Homes

The thing about a house is that you never know who lived in it before. There are always discoveries to be made. A woman once ripped off the wallpaper and found hand prints. There were also things under the floorboards, but she didn't know that.

- - -

I cannot remember under what conditions I came up with this very short story, but I do know that it was written on Saturday April 28th, this year, at precisely 12:36 PM. I had bought a new notebook, of which I have at least 20, and despite this information being completely irrelevant to you, I decided to dedicate it to my shorter tales. Heads up (not off, up): I would like to feature a few more of those here, and maybe even others from my accumulated collection of notepads.

Monday, November 5, 2012

Sketches for Dear Grim Reaper

Sketches of Maddy, and the three boo hags. These are mostly for their facial expressions, particularly when it comes to Maddy, and body posture. I'm working on a lot of things at the moment, but UM is sort of my pet project, so I thought I'd share just a few of the character roughs I've done.

She discovers her personality throughout the story, nonetheless remains quite immature. She feels no need to grow up until she's forced into difficult situations. Obviously, working for Death is enough to make you grim.

The three boo hags are inseparable. Their personalities differ immensely, not to mention they're key characters.