Rocket Comics

There's an old saying that a picture is worth a thousand words. If that's true, Mark Spears must be writing novels with every panel of Mark Spears' Monsters. His meticulously rendered artwork continues to be the star attraction in the second issue, delivering a visual feast of gothic horror, grotesque creatures, and supernatural menace.

Unfortunately, the same problem that haunted the first issue returns for an encore: Spears is a remarkable illustrator, but his beautiful pictures don't always translate into effective sequential storytelling.

In my review of the first issue, I compared reading Monsters to looking at a comic book through a View-Master. The individual images are gorgeous, almost three-dimensional compositions, but the transitions between them can feel strangely disconnected. Issue #2 continues that trend, although its greatest challenge may be the sheer number of mysteries Spears is introducing.

The second issue expands the scope of the story considerably. A terrorist organization known as the Overmen infiltrates a heavily guarded military installation to steal an ancient artifact called the Witch Stone. Meanwhile, the Slayer continues his investigation into the disappearance of an old friend, a journey that introduces us to someone who appears to be a former ally.

This encounter is particularly interesting because it suggests the Slayer wasn't always operating alone. Rather than simply being a mysterious, solitary monster hunter, he apparently worked as part of a larger organization. It's a small revelation, but one that opens up some intriguing possibilities. How long has this organization existed? What was its purpose? And what happened to the people who belonged to it?

Given the hints about the Slayer's extraordinary longevity in the first issue, these questions become even more interesting. Spears is gradually suggesting that the Slayer's history may be considerably more complicated than we initially suspected.

From the Black Lagoon to the Cthulhu Mythos

Another welcome addition to the growing monster menagerie is Zoth-Ommog, the Ancient One of the Deep, who has apparently been summoned from the ocean's depths by Dracula.

Zoth-Ommog is clearly Spears' interpretation of the Creature from the Black Lagoon, complete with the aquatic appearance that immediately brings Universal's famous Gill-man to mind. But there's an interesting twist. Rather than simply creating another amphibious monster, Spears has given the creature a name with roots in the Cthulhu Mythos.

Zoth-Ommog is an established entity from the expanded mythology inspired by H. P. Lovecraft, originally introduced by author Lin Carter. In Carter's Xothic Legend Cycle, Zoth-Ommog is one of the offspring of Cthulhu, associated with the ancient civilizations and forgotten gods of the Mythos. The name suggests something considerably older and more cosmically terrifying than a prehistoric amphibian lurking in an isolated Amazonian lagoon.

As someone who considers the Creature from the Black Lagoon his favorite of the Universal Monsters, I particularly appreciate this combination. The original Gill-man has always seemed a little different from his fellow cinematic monsters. While Dracula, Frankenstein's Monster, and the Wolf Man are rooted in gothic horror, the Creature belongs more comfortably to the realm of science fiction and prehistoric mystery. Connecting that character archetype to Lovecraftian cosmic horror feels like a natural evolution.

It's also a clever way to expand the scope of Spears' supernatural universe. If Dracula can summon an ancient entity associated with the Cthulhu Mythos, then the threats facing the Slayer may extend far beyond the familiar monsters of gothic literature and classic Hollywood.

Whether Spears intends to explore that connection more deeply remains to be seen, but it's exactly the sort of creative blending of horror traditions that makes this series appealing.

And frankly, any comic that finds room for a Creature from the Black Lagoon-inspired monster is already earning a few extra points from me.

A Dragon of a Different Color

Unfortunately, just as these mysteries begin to take shape, the story takes an unexpected detour.

The final sequence transports us to what appears to be a medieval fantasy setting, complete with magic, wizards, and dragons. An aging wizard and his young apprentice are preparing to confront a dragon, in a scenario that immediately reminded me of the 1981 Disney/Paramount film Dragonslayer.

The similarities are difficult to ignore. In that film, a young apprentice accompanies his elderly wizard master on a quest to slay a dragon. Spears presents what appears to be essentially the same setup, although where he intends to take the story remains to be seen.

There's also an interesting coincidence: Dragonslayer was released in 1981, the same year in which the main storyline of Monsters takes place. Whether this is an intentional homage or simply a coincidence is anyone's guess, but it's a connection that caught my attention.

Unlike the black-and-white flashback in the first issue, this sequence is presented in full color. Nevertheless, the medieval setting strongly suggests that we're witnessing events from a very different time and place. Whether this is another flashback or an entirely separate storyline isn't immediately apparent.

And that's where things get interesting.

My suspicion is that the young apprentice may actually be the Slayer himself. If that's the case, the apparent Dragonslayer homage could be something more significant: the beginning of the Slayer's origin story. Perhaps the young apprentice eventually becomes a dragonslayer, only to broaden his activities to hunting other supernatural creatures as the centuries pass. Somewhere along the way, "Dragonslayer" simply becomes "Slayer."

It's an intriguing possibility, particularly given the hints about the character's age and mysterious past. In the first issue, a flashback to the nineteenth century showed the Slayer joining Sherlock Holmes, Allan Quatermain, and Abraham Van Helsing in imprisoning Dracula. That sequence already established that the Slayer was active long before the events of 1981. If my theory about the medieval apprentice proves correct, his history could stretch back centuries further.

Of course, this is purely speculation on my part, but it would provide a logical connection between an otherwise unrelated medieval adventure and the contemporary storyline.

The problem is that the sequence arrives with virtually no warning or apparent connection to the events preceding it. Just as we're beginning to learn more about the Slayer's associates and the growing supernatural conspiracy, we're suddenly whisked away to a medieval fantasy adventure.

There's nothing inherently wrong with this kind of nonlinear storytelling. In fact, jumping between different historical periods could be an effective way to reveal the Slayer's extraordinary history. But without some indication of how these events relate to one another, the transitions can feel more confusing than mysterious.

Two issues into the series, Spears is juggling a missing person, a secretive organization, a stolen supernatural artifact, the possible return of Dracula, a Lovecraftian sea monster, and now an apparent medieval dragon-slaying adventure. That's a considerable amount of narrative ground to cover, especially when so few of these threads have begun to intersect.

The result is a story that sometimes feels more interested in introducing its next mystery than developing the ones already established.

Beautiful Pictures, Static Storytelling

Visually, however, the book remains spectacular.

Spears' highly rendered digital artwork continues to give the series a distinctive appearance. His dramatic lighting, elaborate character designs, and almost three-dimensional compositions are perfectly suited to the grotesque creatures and gothic atmosphere of the story. The medieval sequence, in particular, provides an opportunity to explore a different visual environment while maintaining the same richly detailed aesthetic.

Yet the View-Master comparison from my first review remains appropriate. Spears creates extraordinary individual images, but those images don't always flow together naturally. There's a difference between illustrating a series of events and communicating the movement, timing, and rhythm that make sequential storytelling work.

I also continue to miss the occasional use of traditional comic book sound effects. While not every action requires an oversized BAM! or CRASH!, those familiar visual elements can provide important connections between panels. They help establish the rhythm of a scene and give otherwise static illustrations a sense of movement and impact.

It's an interesting contradiction. Spears' artwork is so meticulously detailed that individual panels practically demand to be studied, yet that same quality can interrupt the pacing of the story. The images are wonderful to look at, but they don't always work together as effectively as they should.

The Verdict

Despite these frustrations, I remain intrigued by what Spears is building. The suggestion that the Slayer belonged to a larger organization adds an appealing layer to his character, while the introduction of Zoth-Ommog demonstrates that Spears is willing to reach beyond the familiar Universal Monsters for inspiration. The possibility that we've just witnessed the beginning of the Slayer's origin story makes the medieval sequence considerably more interesting in retrospect.

There's also something wonderfully appropriate about a series celebrating classic monsters reaching back into the world of medieval fantasy and Lovecraftian cosmic horror. After all, dragons, witches, vampires, werewolves, and ancient sea gods all belong to the long tradition of supernatural storytelling. If Spears can successfully connect these different elements, he may be constructing a mythology that stretches across centuries.

The question is whether he can bring those disparate threads together before the growing collection of mysteries becomes overwhelming.

As with the first issue, Mark Spears' Monsters #2 feels like a comic that rewards patience. It asks readers to trust that its seemingly unrelated events will eventually form a coherent narrative. I'm willing to extend that trust a little further, particularly because the Slayer's mysterious history has become one of the book's most compelling elements.

But I would certainly appreciate a few answers before Spears introduces another half-dozen questions.

The verdict: Mark Spears' Monsters #2 expands the series' mythology with intriguing revelations about the Slayer's past, a welcome Creature from the Black Lagoon-inspired addition to its monster menagerie, and an unexpected excursion into medieval fantasy. The Lovecraftian connection is particularly appealing, while the possible Dragonslayer homage offers a tantalizing hint at the Slayer's origins. Unfortunately, the abrupt introduction of new storylines adds to an already crowded narrative. Spears' artwork remains breathtaking, even as his sequential storytelling occasionally struggles to match the quality of his illustrations. Two issues in, I'm still fascinated by the monsters and mysteries, but I'm increasingly eager to see how all these pieces fit together.

There's something irresistible about the classic monsters. Dracula, Frankenstein's Monster, the Wolf Man, and their fellow creatures of the night have been frightening and fascinating audiences for generations. Whether you first encountered them in Universal horror films, Famous Monsters of Filmland, Aurora model kits, or the pages of Creepy and Eerie, these characters have a way of sinking their claws into your imagination and refusing to let go.

With Mark Spears' Monsters #1, writer and artist Mark Spears brings that old-fashioned monster magic into the modern comic book world. The result is an intriguing, visually distinctive opening chapter that owes as much to the horror nostalgia of the 1980s as it does to the gothic traditions that inspired these creatures in the first place.

Set in 1981, the story opens with a series of disturbing events, including a grisly murder, a missing child, and the suggestion that something ancient and terrible is stirring. A mysterious monster hunter known as the Slayer emerges from retirement, while a collection of seemingly unrelated characters find themselves drawn toward an approaching supernatural threat. Before long, it becomes clear that Dracula's return may be at the center of it all.

One of the issue's more intriguing sequences is a flashback revealing that Dracula was previously imprisoned by an unlikely alliance of legendary Victorian adventurers: Sherlock Holmes, Allan Quatermain, Abraham Van Helsing, and the mysterious Slayer. It's a wonderfully pulpy combination of characters, reminiscent of Alan Moore's The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, and exactly the sort of literary crossover that appeals to my fondness for Victorian adventure fiction and classic horror.

Curiously, the flashback is introduced with a caption reading "London, England. 1986." Considering the main story takes place in 1981, I'm inclined to believe this is a typographical error and the intended date is 1896. Not only would that place the events squarely within the Victorian era, but the artwork shifts to black and white, visually reinforcing the sense that we're witnessing a much earlier period. More importantly, it raises an intriguing question about the Slayer himself. If he helped imprison Dracula in 1896 and remains active in 1981, he's clearly no ordinary mortal. Whether this extraordinary longevity is supernatural in origin or something else entirely remains to be seen, but it's one of the more interesting mysteries introduced in this opening issue.

Spears doesn't attempt to explain everything in this first installment. Instead, he introduces several characters and plot threads, allowing the mystery to build as the reader begins to piece together their connections. It's an ambitious approach, although the constant movement between storylines occasionally makes the issue feel more like an extended prologue than a complete chapter.

The artwork is unquestionably the comic's most distinctive feature. Spears employs a highly rendered digital painting style that gives his monsters an almost three-dimensional appearance. His dramatic lighting, rich colors, and elaborate character designs create images that would look perfectly at home on the packaging of a premium collectible figure or the cover of a vintage monster magazine.

Unfortunately, that visual richness sometimes comes at the expense of sequential storytelling. Reading Mark Spears' Monsters occasionally feels like looking at a comic book through a View-Master. Each panel is a beautifully rendered, almost three-dimensional illustration, but the sense of movement between those panels is sometimes missing. Rather than flowing naturally from one moment to the next, the story can feel like a succession of elaborate still images.

Compounding this problem is the occasional absence of traditional comic book sound effects. A well-placed CRASH!, THUD!, or BLAM! might seem unnecessary in artwork this detailed, but those familiar visual cues serve an important storytelling function. They convey impact, suggest motion, and give action sequences a rhythm that even the most beautifully rendered illustrations can't always achieve on their own.

This becomes particularly noticeable when an action is communicated through a series of otherwise disconnected images. Without the visual punctuation of a sound effect, the reader must sometimes work harder than necessary to understand exactly what has happened. The problem isn't that Spears needs to fill every panel with oversized lettering and explosive onomatopoeia. It's that the absence of those elements occasionally makes an already static sequence more difficult to follow.

Comic books are, after all, a unique marriage of words and pictures. The best artists understand that what happens between the panels can be just as important as what appears inside them. When that visual continuity breaks down, even the most spectacular illustrations can struggle to communicate a relatively simple action.

It's an interesting contradiction. Spears' artwork is so meticulously detailed that individual panels practically demand to be studied, yet that same quality can interrupt the pacing of the story. The images are wonderful to look at, but they don't always work together as effectively as they should.

The writing is similarly a mixed bag. There's plenty of atmosphere and an obvious affection for the material, but the first issue introduces so many mysteries that it leaves relatively little room to develop its characters. The result is a story that's easier to admire for its premise and presentation than to become emotionally invested in—at least so far.

What I find most appealing about Monsters, however, is its willingness to embrace the classic horror tradition without treating it as something that needs to be reinvented beyond recognition. There's a sincerity to the project that I appreciate. Spears clearly understands the enduring appeal of these characters and the generations of monster fans who grew up loving them.

In many ways, the comic feels like a spiritual descendant of the monster magazines, trading cards, and illustrated horror collectibles that filled the shelves of hobby shops and comic stores decades ago. That nostalgic quality may ultimately be its greatest strength.

As a first issue, Mark Spears' Monsters offers more questions than answers, and its elaborate visual presentation sometimes overshadows the storytelling. Nevertheless, there's enough atmosphere, mystery, and affection for classic horror to make me curious about what comes next.

For readers who grew up loving the Universal Monsters, Hammer horror films, and the wonderfully lurid monster art of decades past, this is certainly a comic worth investigating.

The verdict: Mark Spears' Monsters #1 is a visually stunning, nostalgia-soaked introduction to a new monster universe. Spears is unquestionably a talented illustrator, but beautiful illustrations and effective sequential storytelling aren't necessarily the same thing. The story hasn't quite found its footing, and the static artwork occasionally makes the action more difficult to follow than it should. Still, there's enough classic monster magic here to make me want to turn the page—even when the artwork makes me want to stop and stare.