Jumpscare | Momo

The phone went black. The room was still silent.

A notification buzzed. Unknown number.

Not a scream. Not a whisper.

But the closet door was now open exactly three inches wider than you left it. momo jumpscare

She was closer than she should have been. Her skin was the color of raw chicken, stretched tight over a skull that was too small. But it was the eyes—bulging, fish-like, swimming in their sockets—that locked onto yours. The grin was a deep, wet crack in her face, cutting from ear to ear. The phone went black

The image snapped into focus.