Jumpscare - Momo

The phone went black. The room was still silent.

A notification buzzed. Unknown number.

Not a scream. Not a whisper.

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. momo jumpscare

Buffering.

The audio was just static. But you could feel it. The phone went black