Studio Ghibli Dark Fairytale, extreme close-up of a faceless woman in deep shadow. Her head is an empty void—no eyes, no mouth, only smooth, pitch-black nothingness where a face should be. A tattered hood, heavy and ancient, cloaks most of her head in darkness, stitched with threadbare silver runes that flicker faintly like dying embers. She holds a mask inches before the void—pale, porcelain-smooth, grotesquely minimalist, with a stretched, unnatural grin. The smile is frozen, far too wide, eerily cheerful, like something worn at a funeral by mistake. Its eyeholes are deep and lifeless, reflecting no light, staring into nothing. Cracks run along its cheek like dried riverbeds. Her hands, gloved in velvet worn to the threads, tremble slightly as if resisting the urge to put the mask on. Every detail is drenched in shadow—only sharp slivers of sickly blue light outline the mask’s edge and the hollow where her face should be. No background—only black. The atmosphere is claustrophobic, suffocating, drenched in silence. The mask's empty laugh seems to echo where no sound is made. Nothing moves. Nothing breathes. Only the mask smiles. neon-mist