The Specialist had several galleries of his various creations. Some of them were for visitors; monuments to his success. Threats to his enemies.
Others were just for him. Visitors were seldom. Permanently sealed captives hummed in stasis, awakened whenever he needed to terrify a pup with the threat of a rubber-encased tomb. Victims of his excesses or failure were held as laminated trophies.
He loved them. Beautiful, pristine, immortal objets d'art for his own perusal. Most of this gallery was new. He contemplated taking the best pieces down, to use them or reshape them. But he had plenty of time to think about it. The Specialist and his staff hadn't grown tired of them yet, and he felt the gallery would remain entertaining for countless years to come.
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A quick commission drawing a scene from a Specialist story. Character belongs to Dead-Jackal. Stories and more details below.