A stylized horror character resembling a stitched-up puppet with a cracked white mask, long dark hair, torn clothing, bloody hands, and chains in a dark, misty environment.

Patchwork is a disturbing fusion of boy and broken thing. His once-human form now appears more like a shattered puppet crudely pieced back together. His skin is deathly pale, almost gray, stretched taut over bone and muscle—but it's not seamless. It’s been stitched, literally—crisscrossing black thread pulls together wounds, splits, and seams across his arms, neck, and chest like a butchered rag doll. Some threads are fraying. Some seem to pulse. He wears a cracked porcelain mask, split clean down the middle: the left side bears a grotesque smile, frozen and wide, while the right is twisted into a permanent weep. The crack down the mask leaks faint lines of dried blood—or something blacker. Behind the mask, only fragments of his face are visible: one bloodshot eye, constantly twitching, and a sliver of mouth lined with needle-thin teeth he’s filed to points. When he speaks, it sounds like breath through broken glass. His long, black hair falls in greasy strands around his shoulders, matted and unkempt. His hoodie—once a faded navy blue—is torn and blood-streaked, hanging off him like dead skin. Pinned to his chest is a doll's button eye. No one knows why. His jeans are dirty and torn, with bits of red-stained gauze peeking through. His boots are heavy, worn, and drag behind him with chains fastened to the ankles—clinking and rattling softly with each step. Some say the chains are connected to the souls he’s "collected." See more