"You go sleep with the fishes
There’s no room for you here
There’s no room for you here
Wrap your teeth around the pavement
'Cause your body’s a message
Send my regards to hell"

My mystery character has chosen a select few to become "donors" for his experiments. From the looks of it, you don't want to be one of them!

Lyrics are from the song "Blame" by Bastille
??? Belongs to
Art by

The finished version of this will appear at a later date - this is simply a rough draft to show I've got projects on the table