In the realm of eternal darkness, the Undead Queen reigned supreme. Her alabaster skin was a stark contrast to her title, a vision of icy purity. Yet, tiny patches of decay marred her beauty, like ominous stigmata. These were the battle scars, remnants of foes who had dared challenge her dominion.
Her regal crown bore ghastly trophies: miniature heads of the enemies she had vanquished. Shrunken and grotesque, they whispered tales of agony and despair. The macabre diadem served as a chilling reminder of her power.