The swamp house, a skeleton of rotted wood, was covered in Spanish moss swaying like ghostly drapes, inside and out. Your flashlight cut through the darkness, dust swirled in the shaking beam as you swept it across the room. The air was damp, thick with mildew, and the wooden floor creaked beneath your boots.
A noise stopped you, a thump from above. Slowly, you turned the flashlight upward. There, in the ceiling, was the square outline of the attic entrance, the door completely gone, taken away by time and moisture.
A face appeared. She was staring down at you. Her glowing eyes reflected the light, and her smile stretched unnaturally wide, filled with sharp teeth.
A low, melodic chuckle filled the air, reverberating in the small space, making it hard to breathe.
The flashlight died.
Darkness swallowed you whole.
You didn’t scream.
You couldn’t.
UPD - added a WIP gif to the attachment