Creation Details
Panel prompts:
- #1“ River is a sniper for the Special Forces military in America who's doing his final mission before he can retire and go to home to his family in California as he raises the scope to his eye he notices that his Target's head is gone due to the fact that a giant man bat humanoid has taken it The scope shakes in your grip. The wind shifts, rustling the leaves of the distant oak tree where the bat creature perches. It swings its massive, sinewy arm, the tendons standing out like thick cables beneath mottled grey skin. Blood drips from the stump of your target's neck, forming a grotesque red halo on the dusty ground below. You're not supposed to react to this. You're trained for worse. But something deep in your gut churns—something primal that recognizes this as a threshold you weren't ready to cross. This is no regular enemy, no guerrilla, no terrorist in a body armor vest. This is something that shouldn't exist outside of a nightmare. Your radio crackles. I reach for the radio Your fingers tremble slightly as you lower the scope, reaching for the radio instead. The voice on the other end is clipped, professional—your spotter, Jake, stationed several hundred yards away. "Jesus Christ, did you see that thing? I don't even—" He exhales sharply. "You still got a shot, River? That big bastard's just standing there. It's not running or attacking. It's just—looking around like it owns the place." You swallow hard. Sweat prickles at the back of your neck. Your heart pounds against your ribs—not from fear, not exactly, but from something older. Something instinctive. A warning your body is sending through your veins. I start looking around with my scope looking for an escape route and spot an rv. Your breathing is shallow as you scan the area with your scope, the crosshairs drifting across the terrain like a mechanical heartbeat. The RV is parked behind a low ridge, half-hidden by brush and twisted trees. It's a rusted-out husk, but better than nothing. "Negative on the shot," you murmur into the radio, voice steady despite the adrenaline. "I've got an alternate route. Moving in thirty seconds." Jake exhales in your ear. "Got it. I'm with you." His tone is even, but you hear the tightness there, the undercurrent of unease. The creature—if you can even call it that—tilts its head slightly, as if sensing your presence. I move as quickly and as quietly as possible to the rv as a swarm of bat creatures raids the city in the distance. You move swiftly but carefully, crouching low as you make your way toward the RV. The ground crunches softly beneath your boots, each footstep deliberate. The city in the distance is a ruin—twisted metal and shattered glass reflecting the dying light of the sun. And the sky above it teems with dark shapes. A swarm of them. The creature on the oak tree tilts its head in that unsettling way again, and for a moment, you think it's staring directly at you. A coldness grips your chest, but you push forward. The rusted-out camper looms closer. As i make it to the rv i see a headless body by the driver side with the window open and i freeze Your breath stops in your throat. The corpse at the RV's side door is fresh, not fully decayed, though dried blood clings to its neck where the head should be. The door hangs open slightly, creaking in the light wind. The smell of copper hangs heavy in the air. You take another step closer, rifle at the ready, scanning the horizon. The giant bat-thing in the oak tree hasn't moved. It still stands motionless, head cocked at an unnatural angle. Watching. Waiting. Jake's voice crackles through the radio again. "River, you make it to the vehicle?" You keep your tone low. "Affirmative." A pause. "We've got company." I raise my rifle with my 50 cal bullets and a silencer The cold metal of the silencer presses against your shoulder as you bring the rifle up, peering through the scope. The crosshairs settle on the creature's chest—massive, grotesque, covered in thick grey hide that loo”
- #2“ River is a sniper for the Special Forces military in America who's doing his final mission before he can retire and go to home to his family in California as he raises the scope to his eye he notices that his Target's head is gone due to the fact that a giant man bat humanoid has taken it The scope shakes in your grip. The wind shifts, rustling the leaves of the distant oak tree where the bat creature perches. It swings its massive, sinewy arm, the tendons standing out like thick cables beneath mottled grey skin. Blood drips from the stump of your target's neck, forming a grotesque red halo on the dusty ground below. You're not supposed to react to this. You're trained for worse. But something deep in your gut churns—something primal that recognizes this as a threshold you weren't ready to cross. This is no regular enemy, no guerrilla, no terrorist in a body armor vest. This is something that shouldn't exist outside of a nightmare. Your radio crackles. I reach for the radio Your fingers tremble slightly as you lower the scope, reaching for the radio instead. The voice on the other end is clipped, professional—your spotter, Jake, stationed several hundred yards away. "Jesus Christ, did you see that thing? I don't even—" He exhales sharply. "You still got a shot, River? That big bastard's just standing there. It's not running or attacking. It's just—looking around like it owns the place." You swallow hard. Sweat prickles at the back of your neck. Your heart pounds against your ribs—not from fear, not exactly, but from something older. Something instinctive. A warning your body is sending through your veins. I start looking around with my scope looking for an escape route and spot an rv. Your breathing is shallow as you scan the area with your scope, the crosshairs drifting across the terrain like a mechanical heartbeat. The RV is parked behind a low ridge, half-hidden by brush and twisted trees. It's a rusted-out husk, but better than nothing. "Negative on the shot," you murmur into the radio, voice steady despite the adrenaline. "I've got an alternate route. Moving in thirty seconds." Jake exhales in your ear. "Got it. I'm with you." His tone is even, but you hear the tightness there, the undercurrent of unease. The creature—if you can even call it that—tilts its head slightly, as if sensing your presence. I move as quickly and as quietly as possible to the rv as a swarm of bat creatures raids the city in the distance. You move swiftly but carefully, crouching low as you make your way toward the RV. The ground crunches softly beneath your boots, each footstep deliberate. The city in the distance is a ruin—twisted metal and shattered glass reflecting the dying light of the sun. And the sky above it teems with dark shapes. A swarm of them. The creature on the oak tree tilts its head in that unsettling way again, and for a moment, you think it's staring directly at you. A coldness grips your chest, but you push forward. The rusted-out camper looms closer. As i make it to the rv i see a headless body by the driver side with the window open and i freeze Your breath stops in your throat. The corpse at the RV's side door is fresh, not fully decayed, though dried blood clings to its neck where the head should be. The door hangs open slightly, creaking in the light wind. The smell of copper hangs heavy in the air. You take another step closer, rifle at the ready, scanning the horizon. The giant bat-thing in the oak tree hasn't moved. It still stands motionless, head cocked at an unnatural angle. Watching. Waiting. Jake's voice crackles through the radio again. "River, you make it to the vehicle?" You keep your tone low. "Affirmative." A pause. "We've got company." I raise my rifle with my 50 cal bullets and a silencer The cold metal of the silencer presses against your shoulder as you bring the rifle up, peering through the scope. The crosshairs settle on the creature's chest—massive, grotesque, covered in thick grey hide that loo”
Art Style: Noir Comics
Color Mode: Full Color
Panels: 2
Created: