Thomas Holm doesn’t just illustrate album covers; he builds the cage you're about to be locked in. Co-founding Studio Dzyan in Sweden, Holm became the aesthetic architect for King Diamond’s most claustrophobic years. When you look at the oil-painted dread of Melissa (1983) or the sulfurous glow of Don’t Break the Oath (1984), you aren't looking at 'marketing'—you're looking at a specific brand of Malmö gothic that feels wet to the touch. Between 1986 and 1990, his work on Fatal Portrait through The Eye gave the King a visual consistency that most bands trade for cheap airbrushing. There’s a density to his colors—those bruised purples and sickly jaundiced yellows—that suggests a level of patience most metal artists don't possess. Even his later pivots to Wolf or Nifelheim carry that same meticulous, old-world grime. It’s the kind of artwork that makes you handle the sleeve by the edges, half-convinced the paint might still be drying or, worse, that something inside is actually breathing. It’s a grim, beautiful standard that most modern digital renders can’t even touch.