A woman in a black dress standing in a room

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In the heart of a moonless 1600s night, a bedroom lay cloaked in darkness, untouched by the feeble light of the flickering candle at its center. The air within was frigid and laden with an unnatural fog that crept through the timeworn walls. The room's only occupants were dusty memories and an ancient four-poster bed, its canopy veiled in tattered curtains swaying eerily in a chilling breeze that had no earthly origin. Amidst the oppressive silence, the bedroom became a portal to a nightmarish realm, as if the very fabric of reality had torn asunder. Tombstones, their stone surfaces marred by the merciless passage of time, loomed just beyond the window. They stood like mournful sentinels in the cemetery that stretched into the abyss beyond the room. And then, as if conjured by some malevolent sorcery, she materialized. Her presence was the embodiment of fear itself. An emaciated figure, skeletal and wretched, hovered above the ground with an unholy grace. She wore a tattered black dress, a relic from a long-forgotten era, its fabric in tatters and its hem dragging along the cold floor. Her long, straight hair, jet black and matted with filth, hung like a curtain of dread, partially obscuring her blood-red eyes. Those eyes, windows to a realm of unspeakable horror, emitted an evil, otherworldly glow. They pierced the very soul of anyone who dared to lay eyes upon them, an abyss of malevolence that threatened to consume all reason and sanity. They held the ancient secrets of torment and suffering, a knowledge that transcended mortal understanding. As she hovered there, her twisted form radiated a palpable sense of terror and dread. The very air around her seemed to wither and decay, as though her presence was an affront to the natural world. A stench of rot and decay wafted through the room, a sickly aroma that clung to the senses like a curse. Anyone who beheld her, whether by chance or folly, was instantly overwhelmed by a primal, gut-wrenching fear. It's night time

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In the heart of a moonless 1600s night , a bedroom lay cloaked in darkness , untouched by the feeble light of the flickering candle at its center . The air within was frigid and laden with an unnatural fog that crept through the timeworn walls . The room's only occupants were dusty memories and an ancient four-poster bed , its canopy veiled in tattered curtains swaying eerily in a chilling breeze that had no earthly origin . Amidst the oppressive silence , the bedroom became a portal to a nightmarish realm , as if the very fabric of reality had torn asunder . Tombstones , their stone surfaces marred by the merciless passage of time , loomed just beyond the window . They stood like mournful sentinels in the cemetery that stretched into the abyss beyond the room . And then , as if conjured by some malevolent sorcery , she materialized . Her presence was the embodiment of fear itself . An emaciated figure , skeletal and wretched , hovered above the ground with an unholy grace . She wore a tattered black dress , a relic from a long-forgotten era , its fabric in tatters and its hem dragging along the cold floor . Her long , straight hair , jet black and matted with filth , hung like a curtain of dread , partially obscuring her blood-red eyes . Those eyes , windows to a realm of unspeakable horror , emitted an evil , otherworldly glow . They pierced the very soul of anyone who dared to lay eyes upon them , an abyss of malevolence that threatened to consume all reason and sanity . They held the ancient secrets of torment and suffering , a knowledge that transcended mortal understanding . As she hovered there , her twisted form radiated a palpable sense of terror and dread . The very air around her seemed to wither and decay , as though her presence was an affront to the natural world . A stench of rot and decay wafted through the room , a sickly aroma that clung to the senses like a curse . Anyone who beheld her , whether by chance or folly , was instantly overwhelmed by a primal , gut-wrenching fear . It's night time

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Prompts

In the heart of a moonless 1600s night, a bedroom lay cloaked in darkness, untouched by the feeble light of the flickering candle at its center. The air within was frigid and laden with an unnatural fog that crept through the timeworn walls. The room's only occupants were dusty memories and an ancient four-poster bed, its canopy veiled in tattered curtains swaying eerily in a chilling breeze that had no earthly origin. Amidst the oppressive silence, the bedroom became a portal to a nightmarish realm, as if the very fabric of reality had torn asunder. Tombstones, their stone surfaces marred by the merciless passage of time, loomed just beyond the window. They stood like mournful sentinels in the cemetery that stretched into the abyss beyond the room. And then, as if conjured by some malevolent sorcery, she materialized. Her presence was the embodiment of fear itself. An emaciated figure, skeletal and wretched, hovered above the ground with an unholy grace. She wore a tattered black dress, a relic from a long-forgotten era, its fabric in tatters and its hem dragging along the cold floor. Her long, straight hair, jet black and matted with filth, hung like a curtain of dread, partially obscuring her blood-red eyes. Those eyes, windows to a realm of unspeakable horror, emitted an evil, otherworldly glow. They pierced the very soul of anyone who dared to lay eyes upon them, an abyss of malevolence that threatened to consume all reason and sanity. They held the ancient secrets of torment and suffering, a knowledge that transcended mortal understanding. As she hovered there, her twisted form radiated a palpable sense of terror and dread. The very air around her seemed to wither and decay, as though her presence was an affront to the natural world. A stench of rot and decay wafted through the room, a sickly aroma that clung to the senses like a curse. Anyone who beheld her, whether by chance or folly, was instantly overwhelmed by a primal, gut-wrenching fear. It's night time

Negative Prompts

verybadimagenegative_v1.3, ng_deepnegative_v1_75t, (ugly face:0.8),cross-eyed,sketches, (worst quality:2), (low quality:2), (normal quality:2), lowres, normal quality, ((monochrome)), ((grayscale)), skin spots, acnes, skin blemishes, bad anatomy, DeepNegative, facing away, tilted head, {Multiple people}, lowres, bad anatomy, bad hands, text, error, missing fingers, extra digit, fewer digits, cropped, worstquality, low quality, normal quality, jpegartifacts, signature, watermark, username, blurry, bad feet, cropped, poorly drawn hands, poorly drawn face, mutation, deformed, worst quality, low quality, normal quality, jpeg artifacts, signature, watermark, extra fingers, fewer digits, extra limbs, extra arms,extra legs, malformed limbs, fused fingers, too many fingers, long neck, cross-eyed,mutated hands, polar lowres, bad body, bad proportions, gross proportions, text, error, missing fingers, missing arms, missing legs, extra digit, extra arms, extra leg, extra foot, ((repeating hair))

CFG Scale

7

Steps

20

Sampler

Euler a

Seed

256132651

Clip Skip

1

Image Size

1149 X 2048

Denoising Strength

0.2

Model

ReV Animated

Generate

Size

848X1536

Date

Sep 9, 2023

Mode

Default

Type

upscale

Checkpoint & LoRA

Checkpoint

ReV Animated

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