Everything that passed through here left a mark.
An original main title sequence, sixty-nine seconds. An inventory of traces: what an abandoned house keeps when nobody is looking. Concept, direction, art direction, style frames, animation and finishing — all mine, end to end.
Brazilian folk horror told through what is left behind. The opening promises a series that investigates rather than startles — the audience is handed the proof before it is handed the ghost, and asked to read the house like a case file.
One rule holds the whole sequence: never show the presence, only the surface it damaged. A photograph, glass, tape, plaster, photographic paper, wood, salt, a floor, an emulsion, a door. And the marks escalate — the sequence opens on an intact family portrait and closes on a gash tearing through a door, so the last card lands with the violence the first one only implied.
Eleven frames, each designed as a still before anything moved. The turn happens in the ninth: the photographic emulsion peels away from the family portrait and there is a mark scratched into the plaster underneath — the picture was hiding it the whole time.
Drawn, not set: the title written on the plaster in the same red the last marks bleed. Every frame before it is a smaller version of this gesture.
Built entirely with a generative pipeline and finished by hand. Same craft as the commissioned titles above, with the tools of now — and this time the whole thing, from the first plate to the last drop of the logotype.
The camera never shows the haunting. It shows what the haunting left behind.