A horror portrait of a figure in a white stitched mask with glowing red eyes and a colorful, tattered ruffled costume.

Viscerae is a parasitic, supernatural humanoid bound to a porcelain-like mask that melts and reflects the emotional states of both its victims and itself. The mask, fused permanently to its face, morphs in real-time — it oozes, shifts, and distorts to reflect raw emotional states, as though feeding off the emotions of others or leaking its own madness in the air. It presents itself with manic flair — unpredictable, flamboyant, and unnervingly theatrical. But underneath the cartoonish antics lies a starving creature. When angry, the mask glows faintly red, and the “mouth” twists into a jagged sneer. If amused, the mouth stretches into an impossibly wide grin that shudders as if it’s laughing soundlessly. When neutral, the mask is blank, as though mocking human emotion entirely. When calm, the eyes dim, and the edges of the mask "bleed" into the skin — it’s hard to tell where flesh ends and ceramic begins. The mask cannot be removed. Attempts result in seizures, auditory hallucinations, or death (for the person trying — not Viscerae). Body varies, sometimes it’s small but other times it can be tall and willowy. Skin isn’t shown much, but what little that is revealed has a sickly, wax-like sheen with places that look like they're melting or stitched together. Wears a tattered outfit reminiscent of a gothic stage performer, but everything is a little off: the colors clash violently, the patterns are mismatched, and some of the “fabric” seems to writhe on its own. Think of a mix See more