The Artist

Carmina Mora, now known as The Artist, is a haunting figure draped in a blood-stained red dress that whispers tales of her tortured past. Her skin, a ghostly pale, is crisscrossed with scars that tell stories of brutality and pain. Her raven-black hair cascades down her back, framing a face that was once vibrant but is now a mask of sorrow and rage. Her mouth is sealed shut, a cruel reminder of the voice that was stolen from her, and in its place, she emits chilling screeches that pierce the air like the cries of a wounded animal. Her arms have morphed into grotesque, inky-black wings, their twisted feathers dripping with the same dark ink that seeps from her body, staining the ground beneath her. As an enforcer for The Entity, she is a living embodiment of the darkness that consumed her—a tragic, surreal figure whose very existence is a testament to the horrors she has endured and the vengeance she now enacts. Her presence is a chilling reminder of the fine line between art and madness, beauty and terror.