Comic Fury Webcomic Hosting - MatthewJA's Profile

You are not logged in. Log in, Register, More info
MatthewJA's Profile
MatthewJA
grew up in a little log cabin in the prairie

Stats
Registration date: 26th Sep 2010
Last seen: 27th Aug 2015, 3:52 PM
Posts: 17673
Comments left: 3596
Ratings given: 4.97 / 468
Profile views: 14510
Profile
Location: Australia
About me
Hello! :D

I'm MatthewJA, ComicFury moderator and occasional webcomic creator.

MatthewJA's comics
Defen test stuff
Last update: 21st Jul 2013
[Comic profile]
This Is The End
Short webcomic.
Last update: 16th Apr 2015
[Comic profile]
Good Sir, I Cannot Draw
Stickmen! Humour! Things you'll probably like!
Last update: 4th Apr 2015
[Comic profile]
Aspirations
A short webcomic we made.

Six pages.

Last update: 27th Feb 2013
[Comic profile]
Secret Santa 2014
Last update: 27th Jan 2015
[Comic profile]

MatthewJA's disciples
Freee
Freee was, surely, nothing more than a legend. Some said that he had been killed long ago, in a freak accident with a forklift. Or that was what they said. In the warehouse, late one night, he turned around... "It wasn't an accident." said a voice, not heard for years. "You tried to kill me..."

Seeen
Once upon a moonlit evening, on the winter solstice, a tall man walked by the lake in the woods. It was a regular pattern for him; he found the silence and solitude of the woods relaxing. As he reached the lake, though, something was different. Something unsettling. He was suddenly overwhelmed by fear. He hadn't felt this way for over seven years, and even then it had taken months to recover. Sure enough, he saw it, in the middle of the lake. Something was rising from the depths. Not again, not again! He couldn't handle another encounter. But this time was somehow different. Where were the sparkles, the artificial happiness, and the overwhelming trickle of growing insanity? The surface of the water broke. Everything went orange...

AAABatteries
She heard the name and froze. AAABatteries. Sure, the name evoked images of the bottom drawer in the kitchen, where you keep your duct tape and screwdrivers and replacement smoke alarm power supplies, where you go when the television remote finally gives up and pushing the buttons ever harder just isn't working any more. But over the past three months, she had learned to associate the name with something far more sinister. Every time she heard the name, it was louder, and louder still. It was closer.