When it comes to appreciating comic books as a legitimate and unique artistic medium, it is undeniable that the English speaking world has been slow on the uptake. For some perspective, here’s a comparison: the English language text that many consider seminal in advocating for comics as an art form, Scott McCloud’s Understanding Comics, was published in 1993. Junji Ito published his first horror comic in 1987 and created Uzumaki (Spiral) eight years later. Just as the English speaking world was beginning to ask whether comics could be more than superhero stories for kids, Ito — who is widely considered to be one of the best horror manga artists or mangakas ever — published what was arguably his magnum opus. If not for the internet, he may have never even been discovered outside of Japan. His popularity skyrocketed around five years ago, largely due to fans of manga and horror sharing his bizarre work. If one of the most celebrated mangakas working today is still largely overlooked, then you can imagine how little attention other equally innovative and compelling manga series get.

One such series that has recently gained a cult following is Oshimi Shuuzou’s Chi No Wadachi (A Trail Of Blood). Comparing it with Uzumaki quickly shows how versatile horror stories can be when told in comic book form. Uzumaki immediately hits you with the knowledge that a small town, Kurôzu-cho, will be destroyed by spirals. The father of one of the main characters becomes obsessed with collecting spirals, while the mother develops a severe phobia of spirals as a result of her husband’s obsession and both come to grizzly ends. The concept of being terrorized by spirals seems absurd in the abstract, but the scenarios that Ito’s characters face have tangible terror in them. Whether it’s being transformed into a giant snail or having your entire body twisted into impossible infinite spiral shapes, Ito uses body horror to make something as benign as a common geometric pattern not only a symbol but a harbinger of doom.

In contrast, Chi No Wadachi is a slow burn. Our main character, Seiichi, is a perfectly “normal” boy who goes to school, hangs out with his friends and is developing a crush on a classmate. Not much happens for the first few chapters, but it is impossible to shake the sense that something is wrong. Seiichi’s mother, Seiko, is accused by many of being overprotective of her son, his father is conspicuously absent and in some panels, the way in which Seiko looks at her son oozes with creepiness. Without spoiling what happens, the series takes a dark turn after this uneasy set-up, but it takes its time getting there because it aims for psychological horror in contrast to Uzumaki’s immediate shocks. The fear comes from knowing that something is wrong, but not being able to place a finger on it, which is what Seiichi comes to feel as his mother begins manipulating, gaslighting and controlling him.

This isn’t to say that Uzumaki relies purely on cheap scares. In fact, there are a lot of themes and techniques the two series share despite unsettling their readers in different ways. For instance, Chi No Wadachi has its own version of body horror which focuses on the terror a facial expression can inspire. Both comics make use of a technique known as “the page turn,” building up suspense over multiple panels while the big reveal is over the next page. This is different from a jump scare or cliffhanger because it gives the reader agency; rather than the mangaka deciding the pacing of the build-up, the readers ultimately choose when to turn the page and subject themselves to whatever is on the other side.

While Uzumaki’s reveals are often horrific depictions of mangled and warped bodies, Chi No Wadachi’s page turns lead to seeing characters in completely new ways. Their facial expressions fall into the uncanny valley and look as if they were drawn from a moment of transition between two emotions, rather than one solid impression. Both comics are also assisted by their immaculate art in different ways. Ito’s work is more complex, with variations in line thickness and many things happening in every panel. In contrast, Shuuzou’s sparse and simple line work gives moments with more shadows and details in the terrifying faces more weight. While one manga shows the power of complex linework, the other demonstrates the terrifying beauty of simplicity.

It is difficult to talk about these mangas in as much detail as I have other books in this column because to do so would be to spoil them. I think it is best to go into these works with as little prior knowledge as possible. Just know that neither of them are for the faint of heart. Either way, I think having a taste of these works demonstrates that we have not even begun to scratch the surface of the unique potential graphic novels have as forms of storytelling. The page turn uniquely puts the reader in control of the timing through which the story unfolds, which is something that cannot be done with any other medium. In addition, I think that part of the reason Junji Ito was able to develop such a strong cult following is that his work has a distinctive personality. While the same could be said for anybody creating art in any form, it has been pointed out that writing and drawing one’s own comic lends a creative freedom that most other mediums don’t allow.

To be a great mangaka, you have to be skilled at writing, drawing, coloring, lettering and so much more. Because of this ever-present author’s signature, it could be argued that graphic novels provide a window into an artist’s creative process more than almost any other medium. Uzumaki and Chi No Wadachi are examples of great writing in general, not just by comic book standards and they are just two out of infinite examples of amazing work that are waiting to be found if people are willing to look beyond their horizons and be more open to what shapes great art can take.