You know a cover’s in trouble when the scariest thing on it is the graphic design.

Terror Beneath the Ashes dares to ask the question: “What if zombies, a volcano, and a hoodie-wearing teen girl all existed in completely different lighting environments and we just… slapped them together anyway?” The result is a visual catastrophe worthy of its own natural disaster classification.

Let’s begin with our central figure—the girl who looks like she just rage-quit track practice and wandered into a survival thriller. Standing dead centre (pun generously intended), she’s lit like she’s auditioning for an Instagram ad, while the world behind her burns like Dante’s fan fiction. There’s no ash on her, no dramatic shadows—just a Photoshop feather effect around her feet that screams “Haunted by Low Resolution.”

Behind her looms the least convincing volcano since third grade science fair week. The lava is stylized with glowing orange squiggles like it’s been pulled from a low-budget Tron reboot, and the ominous smoke plume is doing its best to rise, despite being clearly pasted in from a “volcano PNG” file found on page 12 of Google Images.

Now let’s talk zombies. Yes, those are supposed to be zombies. Or possibly just disappointed hikers. Dark silhouettes dot the ridgeline like forgotten clip art, evenly spaced like they’re in queue for something—maybe their moment to be edited correctly into the composition. They’re flat, lifeless, and somehow manage to float just enough to trigger motion sickness in anyone studying the horizon.

The houses on either side of the girl seem to exist in their own vacation rental brochure—untouched by ash, zombies, or the apocalypse in general. They’re casually chilling while the title hovers awkwardly above the volcano like it’s late to the party and unsure if it should even be here.

Speaking of the title—“Terror Beneath the Ashes”—it’s rendered in a font best described as “Trauma Times New Roman.” It’s trying to be cracked and ominous, but comes across as a last-minute WordArt selection from a PowerPoint titled “Volcanoes and You.”

This isn’t a horror cover. It’s a genre identity crisis wrapped in a cloud of visual confusion. Zombies? Lava? Haunted fog? Lonely teens? None of it connects. It’s a disaster movie without the budget, the thrill, or the understanding of basic scale.

If terror truly lies beneath the ashes, we hope it stays buried—because what’s on the surface is terrifying enough.