Delilah Buckle

Delilah Buckle is an illustrator living in Atlanta, Georgia. She graduated from the Art Institute of Atlanta in 2013, holding a Bachelor’s Degree in Illustration.

Currently Delilah Buckle trains to become a full-time illustrator. She is interested in graphic novels, animation, sequential art, conceptual illustration and character design.

Find her on http://lilahday.wix.com/dbillus

Stories illustrated by Delilah Buckle

The Puppeteer and the Gardener

Written by Carla Dow

The bruises will bloom later, like the blue and purple petals of a spring hydrangea. For now his face is marred only by the blushing red and pink blossom of newly damaged flesh, the blood rushing to colour his skin like an army marching on the defense. “That’s enough, let’s go.” I turn and follow her out …


Nin’s Glory

Written by W.A. Fix

The city’s planners and designers wanted to name it Utopia, but soon realized, the project would not be considered if they did. So, it was named Glory and it truly was glorious. Nin was born into this perfect city, with its perfect buildings, perfect people and where virtually everything was simply…perfect. The only problem was, …


Nobody Will Believe Anything Manny Says

Written by Ronald Van Hall

Sagt elected to exist during the low-photon period and within an inexact corner of the adolescent, female’s sleep chamber. It would be many eons before this bipedal species developed NAD-particle devices to understand bundled energy levels and thereby discover the rich multiverse all around them. Sagt occupied this time period to mentally archive yesterday’s assessments while …


Danger Zone

Written by Christina C. Franklin

This time of day was the danger zone for him. He did not know why twilight had this unusual effect on him, but it did, springing forth like a wild kickboxing kangaroo daring anything or anyone to get in its way. Stephen stared out the window, his imagination vivid, his mind’s eye running rampant like a …


And Death Shall Have No Dominion

Written by Rui Cid

“And death shall have no dominion.” I whisper into Elyse’s ear, while my hand reaches for her IV line. The syringe’s needle pierces through the injection port and delivers its payload. A genetically tailored virus crafted by me. Within a few moments the amber fluid trickles down the hollow tube, to infect Elyse’s body. Then there’s nothing left …