The genius of these works is that they take the anxieties we already have—noise complaints, property values, passive-aggression—and externalize them as literal magic. The curse isn't the monster. The curse is the feeling that you are never truly alone on your property.

Because the funniest, scariest truth of the is this: by the time you see the hex, it has already been working for three weeks. Do you have a recommended neighbors curse comic? Have you cast a hex over a parking dispute? Contact the author at eldritch.press@substack.com.

However, there is a satirical streak here. Many modern titles are actually dark comedies. Consider the viral webcomic HOA Necromancy , where a home-owners association president raises the dead to enforce lawn-height regulations. Or Cul-de-Sac of the Damned , where a curse intended to cause impotence accidentally gives the entire block the ability to speak Latin.

The neighbor leaves an ambiguous object. A dead bird with a note? A jar of murky liquid? Your protagonist must investigate this object panel by panel. Use macro-lenses (zoom in on the fluid, the feathers, the handwritten label).

There is a unique, visceral horror in realizing that the person living on the other side of the wall hates you. Not a passive-aggressive note about recycling bins, but a deep, spiritual malignancy. This is the fertile, uncomfortable ground tilled by a rising subgenre in independent comics: the .