TBDOne of the hardest challenges trauma poses concerns friend support. It’s a simple yet terrifying reality that comes with the territory. It’s not about the amount of people you surround yourself with, but the quality of their humanity. It doesn’t matter if it’s one person or two or six. If they’re not capable of real understanding and empathy then the road to healing can lead to emotionally dangerous and contentious encounters. As if trauma wasn’t already hard enough, you also have to be a great judge of character to not add to the pain that’s already chipping away at your soul.
Meredith McClaren’s Meat Eaters is a horror graphic novel that concerns itself with this process. Through the use of fantastical creatures, painful memories, and isolation McClaren, who wrote and illustrated the book, crafts a tale that frames friendship as a kind of hunt for the right kind of monsters to share your pain with. And if it turns out those friends are meant to be werewolves, well, just make sure they’re not there to eat you.
Meat Eaters follows Ashley Moore, a nineteen-year-old that wakes up in the woods covered in blood. Ashley wants out of her small town, out of the constant reminder that there’s nothing there for her. Essentially, leaving has become an existential matter, a do or die kind of scenario. Her current predicament, though, makes that difficult. Turns out, she died and came back in the span of one night, and all she has is the memory of something very bad happening in the lead up to her quick resurrection. It’s the kind of memory that paralyses you whenever it comes up.
Ashley tries hard to avoid it, but the fact she’s not entirely human anymore makes it more difficult. Only bloody meat satiates her hunger now, the kind you rip and tear from a living thing as it struggles to escape your newly formed claws.
Her problems don’t end there. Soon after waking up, she discovers that death has opened her up to a world filled with vampires, witches, pack leaders, and monsters that are terrifying enough to even give nightmares the shivers. In the midst of this, she finds a couple of werewolves that she feels comfortable with. They test their bond, leading to meaningful instances of self-discovery and reflection. And then a hideous creature appears to remind everyone that this post-dead existence has some very hostile forces out there that care nothing about your own personal demons.
McClaren excels at making characters wear their emotions on their sleeves, which is crucial for a story like this one. Ashley is visibly weighed down by the conditions of her new reality, and the memories circulating the night she died are always felt even when not directly addressed. McClaren illustrates her as if she were a raw nerve ending, a confused but relatable dark creature that’s governed by her inner turmoil.
The monstrous parts of Ashley’s character aren’t framed as problems that entertain self-destruction or uncontrollable rage, though. Instead, they point to a frustration with her traumas and a resistance to confront the things that bring out the monster in her. Unlike many other stories that deal with trauma, Meat Eaters doesn’t try to turn the main character into the worst person ever only to then rush through a quick redemption arc to close things out on a more hopeful note. Ashley stays relatable throughout, allowing the narrative to flow more freely into other aspects of its world. McClaren doesn’t force certain behaviors on her to manipulate readers into feeling certain emotions or to create conflict for the sake of moving things forward. The goal is to offer an honest look at trauma and how it affects our capacity to function on a social level.
McClaren squeezes a fair amount out of this concept thanks to her facial expression work and the overall design of the other creatures that populate the supernatural side of things. Manga-infused visual cues make certain exchanges more playful, making personalities bigger and louder when they need to be. Blushing cheeks, big eyes, and exaggerated face movements all help communicate a lot about each character. It makes for a faster read in parts, but it also tells readers when to slow down for more personal moments.
Monsters get the same treatment and also invite careful study. They contain a multitude of features that reward those who dig into each panel for all the gory details. It’s a showcase of monster creation. Some are clever interpretations of the classics while others are more experimental in nature. What’s true, though, is that they’re all terrifying. Their very presence builds upon the world of Meat Eaters and the things that lurk in the woods. They look like they belong in folks tales of old, the kinds that were used as warnings for kids not to stray too far from home.
Meat Eaters is a great example of how powerful horror can be as a vehicle for heavy and painful topics. Its characters approach monstrosity as both a manifestation of the anxieties trauma induces and as a representation of the mental anguish trauma can cause if not confronted. McClaren is not afraid to open wounds to tell bloody stories with. That said, she makes sure readers know that the really scary stuff doesn’t have to be faced alone. In fact, sometimes, there’s strength in monsters.
Meat Eaters lands in stores on July 8th, 2025. It is published by Oni Press.
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