Mortis, the infamous mortician, spent countless nights and days in his dank, shadowy laboratory, tirelessly working on a singular, demented mission. He scoured graveyards and funeral homes for suitable specimens, stealing away with bodies in the dead of night. Back in his lab, he would feverishly cut away, plucking skin fragments, organs, and bones, all in the name of his macabre masterpiece. With each harvested piece, his creation began to take form - a stitched-together amalgamation of decaying flesh and sinister intent.

After countless hours spent perfecting his creation, Mortis stood back to admire his work. Laid out before him on the cold, sterile medical table was the most terrifying, hulking monstrosity he could have ever imagined. The creature's body was massive and twisted, its skin a patchwork of different materials stitched together in a horrific conglomeration of rotted flesh. As he fired up electrical shocks to bring his creation to life, a guttural roar emanated from the creature's throat. His perfect monster was now a horrific reality.

Despite Mortis's best efforts, his monstrous creation was unable to embody the intended qualities. Despite the mortician’s attempts to instill anger, selfishness and terror, the creature's naivety and innocence remained intact – it preferred playing with butterflies and dreaming of rescuing beautiful princesses. Frustrated and disappointed by the results, Mortis decided to discard his creation, abandoning it in a dense and lonely forest.

In the somber depths of the forest, the creature was plagued with fear and solitude. He couldn't speak as he had never been taught, which only added to his isolation as people would run away screaming when he approached them for help. He stumbled upon a quiet pond where the soft light of the moon reflected on the water. Catching a glimpse of his own reflection, the image that stared back at him was so revolting and frightful that he made a promise to himself to hide his hideous face from the rest of the world forever.