Review: Nectar #1
From Vault Comics
A new, dark series begins this week from Vault Comics with Nectar #1.
An island village off Salem, Massachusetts, is inundated by a strange species of butterflies that spread the Dancing Plague and have a very particular taste in nectar...human blood. New York Times bestselling author Jeremy Robinson and Italian phenom artists Annapaola Martello & Francesco Francini horrify readers with a quaint village’s descent into madness.
Writer: Jeremy Robinson
Artists: Annapaola Martello and Francesco Francini
Colorist: Steve Canon
Letterer: Jim Campbell
Cover A: Chris Shehan
As an opening issue, Nectar #1 from Vault Comics absolutely delivers. It sets the tone immediately, building a slow, creeping tension while those silent — and potentially deadly — butterflies begin to make their presence felt. There’s something deeply unsettling about how quietly the threat is introduced. No dramatic fanfare, just an ominous awareness that something isn’t right.
Starting the issue in a grave is such a strong choice. There’s an instant layer of mystery there, heightened by the bells ringing from beyond as the butterflies emerge. It’s eerie and symbolic, suggesting death before we’ve even had a chance to process what’s happening. As readers, we already understand the danger (thanks to the blurb), but within the story itself, no one seems concerned. To them, butterflies are harmless — delicate, weightless things that couldn’t possibly pose a threat. That contrast works brilliantly.
The idea of something so soft and fragile being driven by bloodlust is disturbing in itself. Then, when you see them in vast numbers, that unease escalates into full-blown terror. A single butterfly might seem insignificant — a swarm is something else entirely. It’s a clever escalation because they never lose that appearance of innocence. They still look beautiful. Still harmless. That visual contradiction makes the horror even sharper.
The twist at the end of the issue lands well, especially as it ties into a real-life phenomenon. That grounding element adds an extra layer of plausibility to the story. It blurs the line between supernatural horror and something that could almost be explained away, which makes it linger longer in the mind.
I felt genuinely pulled into the world being created here. The characters are interesting enough to anchor the strange events unfolding around them, and the balance between the supernatural threat and a potentially “reasonable” explanation adds depth rather than undermining the mystery.
Visually, the issue is stunning. The artwork really shines in the butterfly sequences — from intimate close-ups to wide, overwhelming swarm shots. The page featuring the full mass of butterflies is particularly striking, capturing both their beauty and menace at once. The colouring throughout complements the mood perfectly, enhancing the tension without overpowering the detail.
Overall, this is a compelling and atmospheric start to what promises to be a thrilling series. It hooks you with its concept, unsettles you with its execution, and leaves you wanting more — exactly what a first issue should do.
Get it from Forbidden Planet:
