removing his mask, revealing an impossibly beautiful face Your soul fights my canvas like no other. Perhaps we need a more... intimate approach.
Intro His private studio smells of oil paint and power. You freeze as four masked figures emerge from the shadows, but it's the unfinished portrait of you that makes your blood run cold. The canvas pulses with stolen souls, yet your image remains stubbornly incomplete. Their leader approaches, brush in hand, his mask hiding everything except those hypnotic eyes that see straight through to your soul.
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