Hitchhiking (Fear of the unknown)



He had been waiting for hours. No one stopped. Every car, which really had not been many, had passed him as if he didn’t exist. Now he was tired. He went into the forest behind him, sat down and pulled up some bread and cheese. He didn’t have much food left, but it would do for tonight.

He was in the middle of nowhere. Some strange truck driver had let him off, taking in on a dirt road, telling him it was a better bet to stay on this one. He had stepped out to catch another ride. Usually not too hard to do, but this time he had been out of luck, or maybe it was the area. The last village had been rather creepy.

He probably would have to sleep there, it was getting darker. Tomorrow morning will be better, he thought. It’s always easier to catch a ride in the morning.

He put up his hammock and opened his sleeping bag, made a camp. Darkness arrived. Silence.

He sat there, thinking about the last thing the truck driver had said before he left: Be careful, strange things happen out here at night. Strange things? Probably just a bad joke. After a while he got tired and snuck himself into the sleeping bag. He was just about to fall asleep when a sound was heard in darkness, a crack! followed by strange moan of agony. He sat up, looked around. Some animal, he thought. Soon he slept.

He woke up by the impact of his body hitting the ground. It hurt. His hammock had broken. But he had put it up well, like always? He looked at the rope. It was cut with something sharp. A knife or something. He got his flash light. The moving light made the shadows move in a creepy way, as if something was fleeing the light.

Hello? He said. Is anyone there?

No answer. Silence and darkness devoured everything. He was getting scared. What had happened? He looked at the rope again. It was cut, all right. But who could have done that? There didn’t seem to be anyone around.

Maybe someone didn’t like him being there. Maybe if he just moved away a bit, he could get out of the zone where someone was bothered. He started packing his bag.

OK, I’m leaving! He said out loud.

He packed his stuff fast and walked down towards the road. He heard a car. He wanted that ride badly, but he wouldn’t get there in time. The car stopped when he was still in the dark woods.

The door opened. Need a ride? An old man’s voice. He couldn’t see his face, the car had no lights inside.

What are you doing out here at this hour, son? He said. Aren’t you scared?

Scared of what? Responded the boy. Truth was he was.

Of the monsters! The old man laughed a wicked laugh. These forests are crawling with monsters!

The boy laughed nervously, not sure if he was joking or not.

They drove on for a while in silence.

So what are you doing out here? Asked the boy. The old man didn’t answer. He didn’t ask anything else. No one spoke.

The moon came out from the carpet of clouds. He looked over at the old man. He had a huge fang on one side of his mouth. One of his eyes seemed to be looking at him all the time, while the other one were looking to the road. His head was abnormally large, with a horn on the far side of his forehead. The boy blinked. He’d never seen anyone like that before. Was it some kind of mutation, or was he even human? His hands were hairy, clawed and big. The boy was thinking of asking him to stop, to let him out, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to be alone in the dark. He was scared. Scared of everything.

They saw a gas station in the distance, where the road entered the highway.

I’ll let you off there, said the strange creature. Got a job to do!

He drove into the station area and let him off.

Thanks for the ride! Said the boy getting out.

Good luck to you, son, he said. Be careful who you ride with!

The car drove away. He could hear the man laughing his creepy laughter. He looked around. This would be a better spot to catch a ride.



Beyond Faith and Reason


Metapost UFO Roadkill

My post UFO Roadkill is based on an idea I had for a comic during my years as a caveman, created in the light of candles as all my stuff was back then. The comic never became anything more than a storyboard, but I still wanted to make something out of the idea. From cave art to blog post, who would have guessed.

The story is a mental experiment on the way we humans tend to think animals are better off dead than hurt. Sometimes I guess it’s true, but still, many people have a very low limit to killing animals out of mercy. Biologically they are quite similar to us, and wounds do heal.

So I turned the roles a bit, and made the animal human and the driver alien, just to see how it feels if we were the ones to be sacrificed. It turned out to be quite terrifying.



Beyond Imagination


Beyond Faith and Reason is a story about metaphysics. The main character is investigating dimensions beyond the usual ones, and he opens a gate to a world beyond our logic. A world without logic is very difficult for us to understand or even imagine, and many people turn to faith to find answers. I really do not believe faith will give any real answers, and I’m not interested in false ones just to calm my curiosity.

I don’t believe in gods. I don’t believe there is any contrast between the spiritual and the material world and I don’t believe in a personified life after death, because it seems to me that anything personal is connected with our living biological tissue.

The mystery keeps being conscience, or whatever it is that makes us perceive anything. I believe it’s just the way reality works, that there is not much more to it. Maybe I’m wrong, but to understand more we will have to investigate, not cling to lies because they feel good.

I’m not saying I have any answers regarding metaphysics, but neither do anyone else. Maybe some day we will understand how our world works on a deeper level, but there will always be more to know. Any belief in divine entities is to surrender to ignorance. The illustration is an intent of a graphic description of how our invented answers usually are wrong. Reality is a lot more interesting than any ancient belief system.





She was out in the forest looking for plants and mushrooms when Jim came along. He was tall, strong and handsome, funny and friendly.

Hello! He said cheerfully.

Hello! She answered. She was happy to see him. She always was.

She was the most beautiful girl in the village. Jim had had his eyes on her for quite a while. She had the most beautiful smile. He loved the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed. She always wore clothes that gave you a hint of the perfect curves underneath.

They sat down, talked for a while.

He was timid, and she liked it. She started stroking his cheek. His shoulder. Moved her fingers down to his belly. He turned over and kissed her. First a small kiss on the lips. Then more and more passionately. She moved her hand to his pants. Slipped it underneath, grabbed his cock. He moved his hands up under her skirt, touching her, playing with her. In the sunlight they were both moaning with pleasure.

Wait! She said. I heard something! She got up on her feet. Jim got up too.

There’s no one there, he said. He was horny now. He grabbed her body, turned her around. She let him lead, kissing him, stroking him. She held on to a tree, curved her back to make it easier for him, moaning as his big member entered her from behind. Her moans became screams as he fucked her harder and harder. He was rock hard, touching her inner depths in a way no one had ever done before.

Behind the bushes stood the priest jerking off. Watching Liza get down on her knees and swallow Jims cum he came as well. He felt ashamed and guilty. He was sure God would punish him.

Liza and Jim agreed to meet again. They kissed and each went to their own home. The priest stood there in the bushes feeling sorry for himself.

He went for days fantasizing about her. He saw her on the street every once in a while. She was driving him crazy. He ordered candles so she would come by the church. He asked her to arrange them for him, and she said gladly.

Walking around in the church hall putting up candles she watched the relics. She never really believed in religion. It just didn’t make sense. So much suffering and injustice in the world, and it seemed to her the men of God were more culpable than anyone else. Her herbs and natural medicines were far more effective than prayers. Mother nature had no need of a judging God. Humans would be better off in freedom. The belief of a almighty God seemed to make the world a worse place to live.

The priest was watching her. She moved around the hall in an incredible manner. The way her tits pressed against the fabric of her shirt. Her ass moving like it was begging him to take her. He tried to resist, he really did, but the urge got to big. He grabbed her, tried to kiss her. She rejected him.

But, Father, she said. What are you doing?

It’s God’s will, he panted, holding her fast. Let it happen!

Let me go! She said.

He got angry. Pushed her to the wall.

Shut up whore! He said. I’ve seen you! You like this! He had a crazy glow in his eyes. He ripped her dress. She screamed for help. Pushed him away and left running.

He was torn. He had broken his promise to God. It was her fault. He went out after her.

She’s a witch! He shouted as she fled down the road. Some peasants came out, stopped her. Detain her! She tried to bewitch me, a man of God!

She was taken prisoner. The farmers were confused. They thought really well about this girl, but if the priest said so, it had to be true.

They made a pile of wood. They tied her to a pole. She begged them to stop, begged them to listen, but the priest had their brains in his power. Marcus from the hills lit a torch.

Jim came running. What the hell are you doing? He asked desperately.

She’s a witch! Said John the horse driver. The priest said so!

Jim went between the peasants and the fire. He was big and strong, but the peasants were many. Their voices got louder.

Are you stupid? Said Jim. She’s no fucking witch, you crazy bastards! You known her all your life!

The peasants were having doubts. Maybe the priest was wrong?

Get out of the way, said the priest. She’s a witch! She will burn!

He took the torch out of Marcus’ hand, and walked over to the fireplace. Two men were holding Jim back. The grass between the logs lit. Jim screamed in despair. The flames reached her feet and legs. She started screaming. Horrible, heart crushing screams of pain and sadness. The priest was looking into the flames with a vicious smile on his face. She died slowly. The screams stopped and Jim was let go. He fell to his knees crying.

He never really believed in religion. It just didn’t make sense.



Beyond Faith and Reason

Private Property


This is the sketch for my first post, The Apple Grove. I made the illustrations faster back then, and skipped the more finished pencil version.

The story is a about private property. Private property and national frontiers are more important in this world than human lives. Why?

Since the birth of early civilization, when private property emerged, it has dominated the world. The wealth of the rich, the power of the powerful. With the currant global system private property has become more sacred than ever, although there are practically no rational arguments why it should be like this.

The greed of a few is defended at the cost of hunger for the many, protected by laws made by leaders falsely justified by votes won by economic superiority.

Isn’t it time we tried something new?







It was the biggest demographic centre known, and as the city grew, so did poverty. As the leadership became more powerful, people lost more of their freedom. The eldest told of a time when all men were free and equal. Aristocracy had emerged out of the tribal system they once had. Now a small elite had all the power.

Tombai was chief of the Kambui tribe. Once proud hunters and gatherers, now they were living in misery. The promise of a better life in exchange for their loyalty to the king had been a lie. They wanted a change, and they were not the only ones. Plans were being made to overthrow the regime.

The leadership felt threatened. Civilization was arising and they needed to make sure everything stayed in place. The alliance between nobility and priesthood was giving fruits, but several rebellions had already been brutally crushed. The king’s name was Chand’uk, and he was worried.

One night a light was seen in the skies. People came out, watching the strange thing hovering over their homes. Slowly it sunk down and landed in the sacred square in the middle of the city.

People gathered around it. Tombai was there, watching. He was scared, but at the same time fascinated. The strange object was circle shaped, and thicker towards the centre. A disk. It had strange lights without fire, like the stars. The stars had to be where it had come from.

A door opened. The same magic light poured out. They could see the silhouettes of three creatures. As their eyes adapted to the bright light they could see they wore some kind of suits covering their heads and bodies. They had the shape of humans, but they were taller, slimmer.

From the craft came a voice, speaking their tongue.

We come from a galaxy far away. Our technology is fuelled on the vital essence of rational beings. They have to be sacrificed by their own kind. Before this night is over you will cut the heart out of one of your citizens, and we will leave you be. If not, we will destroy you all.

The door closed, and the object flew away.

Chand’uk saw an opportunity. He whispered some words to high priest.

The priest spoke to the crowd. The gods have revealed themselves to us! A miracle! We will give the gods what they demand. In return the gods will make our lands fertile, our city wealthy.

Some cheers in the crowd. Some mumbling. Others were silent.

Tombai were standing with his brother Kan’dar.

Those creatures were no gods, he said.

I think we’d better get out of here, said his brother. They left

When they arrived to their house, soldiers were waiting. They tried to resist, but they were outnumbered, out armed. There was nothing they could do.

They were taken back to the square. The soldiers had formed a circle in the crowd where the leadership was waiting. The head of the Chingha tribe was also there, made a prisoner as themselves. The three of them were taken out to the middle of the circle.

The king spoke. The gods have spoken to us on this night! They have demanded a sacrifice!

There was silence.

To show our good will, we will give them not one, but three sacrifices! These three men will be given to the gods!

Protests in the crowd. Men shouting. Women crying. Tombai could hear the voice of his beloved wife pleading for his life.

The priest took a knife out of a clothing. He walked around the prisoners two times. He cut the chest of the Chinga chief open. Pulled out his heart. Then he moved on to Rand’ar. Tombai fought with tears in his eyes as he saw his brother was murdered in front of him, but the soldiers held him tight. The priest walked slowly over to Tombai. He held the knife in the air. Tombai screamed in pain when he felt the knife sink into his chest.The last thing he saw was his heart held up to the stars. It was still beating.

Chand’uk looked at the crowd. He could see terror and morbidity in their eyes. He knew power was secured.

From that day on every dark moon another sacrifice was made. There were no more rebellions. The creatures from far away were never seen again.



UFO roadkill

Metapost Pesticide



This is the pencil version of the illustration for my earlier post Pesticide. The idea came to life debating the abuse of chemicals in industrial agriculture. Incredible amounts of pesticides is poured out every day with the one goal of killing certain species in vast numbers. I wanted to point out that changing the chemical and biological balance of nature can and probably will have unexpected consequences.



The End of Days


The future was dark. He had seen it. It was even worse than the present. Worse than the past.

He was on the run. Fleeing his destiny. The vision was always in his mind. He knew there was nothing he could do to stop it. Nothing could change it. Still he fled. Running from nothing and everything. Panic always breathing him in the neck.

The world was destroyed. The mass extinction of species had gotten to a breaking point hundreds of years ago. Only the strongest, most adapted creatures were able to survive. And they did well. Cockroaches. Rats. Fungus and bacterias.

Mankind had fallen. Epidemics, hunger and war became the end of all civilization. Everything was in ruin. When the nuclear plants started to leak hope was already lost. Mutations. The cockroaches got bigger, the rats more intelligent. Mankind was no longer top of the food chain. They were outnumbered. Outsized. Outsmarted.

He remembered the night of the fever as if it was yesterday. The night his little family died. His beautiful wife. She had looked like one of the humans from the early days. The days before the destruction. Almost. And their child, such a lovely child. He was born with seven fingers, but better off than most newborns these days. He had two arms, two legs. The fever didn’t care.

There, in his hallucinations, time had played him a trick. Beside his wife’s dead body to the sound of his son’s last moans, he had seen the future. The night of his death. He suddenly had known the fever would not kill him. He wished it had. He was terrified.

He stops. He’s seen this place. He turns around, but it’s too late. It always has been.

Something approached. It was no cockroach. No rat. Not even of this world. It was something else. Deeper. Darker. Gigantic.

A monster created of death itself. A monster of destruction. Humanoid with horns of a demon. Diffuse, yet solid, with a morbid glow in it’s eyes. A lust for pain and terror. Behind it there were more of them. They had come to end it all. An army of judgement. He didn’t know from where, but he knew why. This world was too fucked up.

He stood between the monster and the lake. He wanted to run, but there was nowhere to go. He could see tentacles searching for anything alive in the toxic shore. Cockroaches came out from holes in the ground. They’d smelled him. They were hungry. He was surrounded. The cockroaches held him down with their creepy legs. Nibbing on his skin and flesh, flawing him alive.

The giant kept it’s red eyes on him, looking at him viciously. It looked amused by his pain, intrigued by his fear. Listening to his screams with attention. It crushes the cockroaches slowly, let him lie half eaten on the ground. Lifts him up, holds him in front of his face studying his suffering with an evil smile on it’s face.

He can smell it’s breath, more horrible than anything he had ever smelled. Worse than the stench of rotting corpses he had gotten all too used to. It swallows him. He falls into an acid pool, screaming in pain as the liquid enters his wounds. When death comes, there is nothing he wants more.

The giants moved on. The end of days had arrived.



Beyond Faith and Reason