Momo Jumpscare -

The room was silent except for the hum of the phone charger. It was 2:17 AM. You shouldn’t be awake, but you were scrolling anyway, thumb moving on autopilot through a dead timeline.

Not a scream. Not a whisper.

Buffering.

The phone went black. The room was still silent. 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 room was silent except for the hum of the phone charger