When I was nothing but a little ‘un, the kind souls at the government and ITV conspired to fill the adverts during Number 73 with instructional films full of death, horror and tragedy. This is how a generation was brought up on a Saturday morning. Who will ever forget Donald Pleasance’s sonorous tones warning us about the dangers of lonely pools of water – right there between the cartoons was a miniature version of Don’t Look Now. And that’s not even counting the man who hurts his back when he bends over, but he’s really a robot. Oh, or the kids run over by ice cream vans. Or the Frisbee in the power station…Jimmmmmmmyyyyy!

Anyway, if you’re familiar with those kind of adverts you’ll feel that uneasy feeling of anxiety sweep over you again as you read Cyriak Harris’ Farm of Fear. The plot is simplicity itself and bookends the comic:

“Boys and girls who play on the farm… you will die one by one… horribly.”

With this neat encapsulation of the plot Harris launches into the story, killing the cast of five children in quick succession in farmyard accidents. On its own this would be interesting enough, but the final death, in which the last remaining child is lured into danger by the ghosts of his compatriots, pushes the comic away from being simply a fun little gross-out comic into something a little deeper. This is driven home by the final page, which as well as adding a final sick twist to proceedings, also features some truly poignant panels of empty coat hooks and broken swings. This serves to remind the reader that despite the cheap laughs they have enjoyed as these cartoon kids met their cartoon deaths, somewhere their cartoon mothers must be shedding cartoon tears.

This is all executed with a breezy, bright art style that reminds me a little of South Park and a little of Pigeon Street, of all things. Harris’ layouts are bold and direct, letting the dreadful progression of the story unfold at its own pace without resorting to any attention grabbing for the gorier scenes. It’s this unfussy presentation that makes the comic so attractive, I think. At first glance it seems a confection, but there are layers waiting here for the attentive reader to uncover.

This is twelve pages of full colour A5 comics for £3.80, which includes UK postage. You can order it direct from Cyriak at his on-line shop, and have a look at what it looks like here. Now off you go, and don’t play near lonely pools of water.