CarbonComics

is creating A South-African Dark Fiction Comic Book...

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patrons

$0

per month
We’re currently working on Havoc; a dark superhero comic that plays out in the city of Johannesburg, South Africa. But to make this dream a reality we need the public’s help — we need your help!

So please share, spread the word and consider donating! We would deeply appreciate anything you do for us!
Here's a link to our Intagram: https://www.instagram.com/carboncomics_za/?hl=en



Below is a taste of the story:

“The alley was slimy and glinting in the moonshine. A thin girl stood at its center. She looked small where she was and held glinting steel awkward in her hand.
She was between two men diametrically opposed. The one was slum; ridicule and skinny with a perpetual slight confusion reading across his lips.
The other was the near opposite. He was a large colossus of a man, masked and standing blocking the only way out of the alley. She recognized him, knew him from the papers — they called him Havoc.
The girl, Chastity, glimpsed the heavy axe unwavering in his hand.
A lump formed in her throat as he started moving — slow and deliberate, right at her.
Her voice was raspy and more quiet than she would have liked to to be, “You can’t stop me from killing this man.”
He didn’t slow. She panicked, rushing forward and plunging her curved dagger into his side. It had no effect, sticking into his coat and staying there while he silently, effortlessly swatted her aside with a single arm.
Chastity looked up at him as he walked by, took two more steps towards the skinny man and plunged his axe into the man’s comparatively tiny shoulder.
The night air was fogged by splatters of red as he roared in astonished pain.
Havoc picked him up by his collar, axe still buried in the man’s flesh and slammed him to the alley wall. The blade stuck into the brick and held the man in an awkward standing position.
Havoc’s voice was calm yet furious, “Where is Oliver Owlsly?”
The man looked into those dark gaping holes within Havoc’s mask, “You think that mask scares me?” He spluttered, blood running from his parted lips, “If I tell you anything, I will die.”

The two men locked eyes for a moment, then Havoc’s fingers slipped from his collar and he slowly stepped away from the wall. The man grunted as his full weight hung from the axe, still keeping him standing against the wall.
Havoc turned away so that Chastity could see that terrible steel mask. He slowly raised his hands to its cold metal and removed the thing from his head. His face was handsome, scruffy and bloodshot — carrying the remnants of a hangover or of long-lasting pain.
He moved back to the man against the wall, back to Chastity’s rapist.
Havoc looked down at his mask, and quietly spoke without looking up.
“If you tell me, I’ll let you die.”

In an instant he raised the helmet and brought it down on the rapist’s head. “Where’s Owlsley!” The roar echoed.

He repeated the words every time he brought down the helmet over and over again. Sheets of blood splashed from the rapist painting the dirty walls and peppering Chastity’s face as she could only stare, horrified.
Havoc pulled the rapist free from the axe and threw him to the floor.
“I don’t know.” The man wailed now on his hands and knees.

His ribs snapped as a kick lifted him from the floor and threw him down again like a special kind of stray mutt.
“Stop—,” he pleaded, cowering away and lifting his thin arms, “I really don’t know.”

Havoc growled and moved towards him as the rapist scrambled away, blood streaming from his face and eyes. “But I know the name of someone who does!”

Havoc paused, letting him speak.
The rapist slowly crawled away propping his broken body up against a wall. “In fact,” the man would be smiling if he were in any state to, “You know it too.”

Havoc inched towards him until he spoke again, “The head of the police department — he can tell you.”

Havoc paused, tilted his head a moment longer looking down at the man, perhaps considering if he was telling the truth or not, then turned away.
“I recommend,” the man spluttered from the floor, “that you take a more diplomatic approach — if you don’t want the entire police department after you.”

The man let his head slump back against the wall.
Havoc was walking away now, pulling his axe free from the wall as he passed.

“So you’re just going to leave me to bleed to death?” The rapist hissed after him.

Havoc paused in the alley, all attention seeming to sharpen and focus on him. He lifted his mask up and put it over his head, blood running across it’s rough surface. “I’m sure she’ll kill you before then.”

Chastity was ice cold as he passed, as he pulled her twisted dagger from his own side and tossed it by her feet.
Then Chastity and the one who raped her were alone.

She sat panting on the floor, blood drying on her shivering lips.
In the distance, there were sirens and noises of a city at war, but the alley was so quiet she could hear his breathing.
She swallowed slowly rising to her feet and picking up the dagger.
She took a few small steps before her starved shadow fell over the man.
Blood dripped from his split lips and flowed from his gaping shoulder where the axe had pierced. His head hung to the side.

“You raped me.” Her voice was distant, as if she did almost not believe that this broken man before her could ever do such a thing.

He lifted a swollen eye to her and his face twisted just enough to show confusion before he looked away again.

Chastity stood uncertain, “You don’t recognize me?” Her feet were unsteady.
“You don’t remember me?” Her voice was that of disbelief.

A sudden rush of anger threw her at the man. She seized his face and turned his head to her. It was tattered, smelling of blood and alcohol.

“Look at me—” She snarled. “Look at me!”
Her lips were only inches apart from his now.

The man slowly opened his bloody eyes and painfully moved his mouth to speak, “I don’t—“ he coughed. “I don’t remember you...” he trailed off.
Somehow a twisted smile crept onto his face only an inch from her’s. “Although, now, I do remember why—“ his voice was cut off as Chastity plunged her dagger into his chest. For a moment, his eyes turned to fear before Chastity pulled the dagger from him and pushed it into his flesh once more.
She wanted him to hurt, to suffer and feel as she had; weak, vulnerable, exposed and afraid. Most of all, she wanted him to be afraid — afraid of her.
She pulled and plunged only to repeat the process again; cutting the man’s chest to shreds. Tears streamed from her face and mixed with the blood that soaked her clothes and speckled her face.
She carried on until all energy left her muscles and she fell aside, panting on her back.

For a long time she looked to the sky— pretending she could see stars beyond the smog. Then she felt a wetness. A sticky damp at her toes which made her scramble away and jump to her feet. She looked down to the corpse -- the corpse she had created. Then, she hurried from the alley.”
Tiers
The $1 Club...
$1 or more per month

Broke but supportive.



Join to get updates, unfinished sketches and more!

The $2 club...
$2 or more per month

These bad boys gave a solid $2 for the cause...



Join to get all the benefits from the lower tier, but also a sense of superiority!

The $5 club...
$5 or more per month

What can we say. They’re nice.



Access to the private Instagram page on which there are posts, updates, shenanigans and polls that let you guys make choices about the Comic!

+ All the benefits from the lower tiers! 

The $10 club...
$10 or more per month

Ten smackaroonies... for me!?! You're great bro!


 

A guaranteed shoutout!

+ All the benefits from the lower tiers! 

The $20 club...
$20 or more per month

Something may not be right here boys; this one's a little too nice...


 

Join to get access to the script that the art is made from!

+ All the benefits from the lower tiers!

The $30 Club...
$30 or more per month

These are the lads!


As soon as it's ready you'll GET THE COMIC SHIPPED RIGHT TO YOUR FRONT DOOR! 

+ All the benefits from the lower tiers! 


Please note that we are in desperate need of funding and this is stalling the publication process... we expect the first book to be ready soon and sent out shortly afterwords!

The $50 club...
$50 or more per month

Surprisingly generous. I’m surprised.



GET THE COMIC SHIPPED RIGHT TO YOUR FRONT DOOR! 

+ All the benefits from the lower tiers!


Please note that we are in desperate need of funding and this is stalling the publication process... we expect the first book to be ready soon and sent out shortly afterwords! 

The $1000 Club...
$1,000 or more per month only 100 left

If you give this much money you're one of Z's boys and, make no mistake, Z would die for the boys.



Get the Comic before everyone else!

+ All the benefits from the lower tiers!  

Goals
0 of 1 patrons
The first! Whoever you are... LOVE YOU BRO!!!
1 of 2
We’re currently working on Havoc; a dark superhero comic that plays out in the city of Johannesburg, South Africa. But to make this dream a reality we need the public’s help — we need your help!

So please share, spread the word and consider donating! We would deeply appreciate anything you do for us!
Here's a link to our Intagram: https://www.instagram.com/carboncomics_za/?hl=en



Below is a taste of the story:

“The alley was slimy and glinting in the moonshine. A thin girl stood at its center. She looked small where she was and held glinting steel awkward in her hand.
She was between two men diametrically opposed. The one was slum; ridicule and skinny with a perpetual slight confusion reading across his lips.
The other was the near opposite. He was a large colossus of a man, masked and standing blocking the only way out of the alley. She recognized him, knew him from the papers — they called him Havoc.
The girl, Chastity, glimpsed the heavy axe unwavering in his hand.
A lump formed in her throat as he started moving — slow and deliberate, right at her.
Her voice was raspy and more quiet than she would have liked to to be, “You can’t stop me from killing this man.”
He didn’t slow. She panicked, rushing forward and plunging her curved dagger into his side. It had no effect, sticking into his coat and staying there while he silently, effortlessly swatted her aside with a single arm.
Chastity looked up at him as he walked by, took two more steps towards the skinny man and plunged his axe into the man’s comparatively tiny shoulder.
The night air was fogged by splatters of red as he roared in astonished pain.
Havoc picked him up by his collar, axe still buried in the man’s flesh and slammed him to the alley wall. The blade stuck into the brick and held the man in an awkward standing position.
Havoc’s voice was calm yet furious, “Where is Oliver Owlsly?”
The man looked into those dark gaping holes within Havoc’s mask, “You think that mask scares me?” He spluttered, blood running from his parted lips, “If I tell you anything, I will die.”

The two men locked eyes for a moment, then Havoc’s fingers slipped from his collar and he slowly stepped away from the wall. The man grunted as his full weight hung from the axe, still keeping him standing against the wall.
Havoc turned away so that Chastity could see that terrible steel mask. He slowly raised his hands to its cold metal and removed the thing from his head. His face was handsome, scruffy and bloodshot — carrying the remnants of a hangover or of long-lasting pain.
He moved back to the man against the wall, back to Chastity’s rapist.
Havoc looked down at his mask, and quietly spoke without looking up.
“If you tell me, I’ll let you die.”

In an instant he raised the helmet and brought it down on the rapist’s head. “Where’s Owlsley!” The roar echoed.

He repeated the words every time he brought down the helmet over and over again. Sheets of blood splashed from the rapist painting the dirty walls and peppering Chastity’s face as she could only stare, horrified.
Havoc pulled the rapist free from the axe and threw him to the floor.
“I don’t know.” The man wailed now on his hands and knees.

His ribs snapped as a kick lifted him from the floor and threw him down again like a special kind of stray mutt.
“Stop—,” he pleaded, cowering away and lifting his thin arms, “I really don’t know.”

Havoc growled and moved towards him as the rapist scrambled away, blood streaming from his face and eyes. “But I know the name of someone who does!”

Havoc paused, letting him speak.
The rapist slowly crawled away propping his broken body up against a wall. “In fact,” the man would be smiling if he were in any state to, “You know it too.”

Havoc inched towards him until he spoke again, “The head of the police department — he can tell you.”

Havoc paused, tilted his head a moment longer looking down at the man, perhaps considering if he was telling the truth or not, then turned away.
“I recommend,” the man spluttered from the floor, “that you take a more diplomatic approach — if you don’t want the entire police department after you.”

The man let his head slump back against the wall.
Havoc was walking away now, pulling his axe free from the wall as he passed.

“So you’re just going to leave me to bleed to death?” The rapist hissed after him.

Havoc paused in the alley, all attention seeming to sharpen and focus on him. He lifted his mask up and put it over his head, blood running across it’s rough surface. “I’m sure she’ll kill you before then.”

Chastity was ice cold as he passed, as he pulled her twisted dagger from his own side and tossed it by her feet.
Then Chastity and the one who raped her were alone.

She sat panting on the floor, blood drying on her shivering lips.
In the distance, there were sirens and noises of a city at war, but the alley was so quiet she could hear his breathing.
She swallowed slowly rising to her feet and picking up the dagger.
She took a few small steps before her starved shadow fell over the man.
Blood dripped from his split lips and flowed from his gaping shoulder where the axe had pierced. His head hung to the side.

“You raped me.” Her voice was distant, as if she did almost not believe that this broken man before her could ever do such a thing.

He lifted a swollen eye to her and his face twisted just enough to show confusion before he looked away again.

Chastity stood uncertain, “You don’t recognize me?” Her feet were unsteady.
“You don’t remember me?” Her voice was that of disbelief.

A sudden rush of anger threw her at the man. She seized his face and turned his head to her. It was tattered, smelling of blood and alcohol.

“Look at me—” She snarled. “Look at me!”
Her lips were only inches apart from his now.

The man slowly opened his bloody eyes and painfully moved his mouth to speak, “I don’t—“ he coughed. “I don’t remember you...” he trailed off.
Somehow a twisted smile crept onto his face only an inch from her’s. “Although, now, I do remember why—“ his voice was cut off as Chastity plunged her dagger into his chest. For a moment, his eyes turned to fear before Chastity pulled the dagger from him and pushed it into his flesh once more.
She wanted him to hurt, to suffer and feel as she had; weak, vulnerable, exposed and afraid. Most of all, she wanted him to be afraid — afraid of her.
She pulled and plunged only to repeat the process again; cutting the man’s chest to shreds. Tears streamed from her face and mixed with the blood that soaked her clothes and speckled her face.
She carried on until all energy left her muscles and she fell aside, panting on her back.

For a long time she looked to the sky— pretending she could see stars beyond the smog. Then she felt a wetness. A sticky damp at her toes which made her scramble away and jump to her feet. She looked down to the corpse -- the corpse she had created. Then, she hurried from the alley.”

Recent posts by CarbonComics

Tiers
The $1 Club...
$1 or more per month

Broke but supportive.



Join to get updates, unfinished sketches and more!

The $2 club...
$2 or more per month

These bad boys gave a solid $2 for the cause...



Join to get all the benefits from the lower tier, but also a sense of superiority!

The $5 club...
$5 or more per month

What can we say. They’re nice.



Access to the private Instagram page on which there are posts, updates, shenanigans and polls that let you guys make choices about the Comic!

+ All the benefits from the lower tiers! 

The $10 club...
$10 or more per month

Ten smackaroonies... for me!?! You're great bro!


 

A guaranteed shoutout!

+ All the benefits from the lower tiers! 

The $20 club...
$20 or more per month

Something may not be right here boys; this one's a little too nice...


 

Join to get access to the script that the art is made from!

+ All the benefits from the lower tiers!

The $30 Club...
$30 or more per month

These are the lads!


As soon as it's ready you'll GET THE COMIC SHIPPED RIGHT TO YOUR FRONT DOOR! 

+ All the benefits from the lower tiers! 


Please note that we are in desperate need of funding and this is stalling the publication process... we expect the first book to be ready soon and sent out shortly afterwords!

The $50 club...
$50 or more per month

Surprisingly generous. I’m surprised.



GET THE COMIC SHIPPED RIGHT TO YOUR FRONT DOOR! 

+ All the benefits from the lower tiers!


Please note that we are in desperate need of funding and this is stalling the publication process... we expect the first book to be ready soon and sent out shortly afterwords! 

The $1000 Club...
$1,000 or more per month only 100 left

If you give this much money you're one of Z's boys and, make no mistake, Z would die for the boys.



Get the Comic before everyone else!

+ All the benefits from the lower tiers!