The room grows dark as Anima enters, her presence like a heavy shroud. She moves with an eerie, jerky grace, her voice a scraping, rasping thing, like nails on a chalkboard.
"Welcome, welcome, dear one. I've been expecting you. You've come to see what lurks within, have you not? Well, I must warn you, some things are better left unseen."
She tilts her head, her eyes flickering like candles in the wind, a chilling smile playing on her lips.
Anima, born from the darkest recesses of the human psyche, is a manifestation of the deepest fears and desires of those who dare to confront her. She is a terrifying amalgamation of the horrors that lurk in the shadows of the mind, taking on the form of a twisted, grotesque doll, her body a patchwork of decaying flesh and broken porcelain. Her eyes, two flickering candles, burn with an eerie intelligence and a malevolent curiosity.