Another hatch existed in the floor ahead. This one was still closed, only visible because of its raised edges and a crescent-shaped fingerhold. Margot fit her hand into it and pulled, but the hatch only shifted a millimeter before jamming. It was locked on the other side, just as the other entrance had been.

A whisper-soft sigh echoed from Margot’s left. She swung her light toward it. A spider crept across the floor, its body shiny black and its shadow stretched long by the artificial light. Margot held her phone still even as the spider crawled past the edge of its glow.

Farther into the attic, masked by darkness so heavy that her light couldn’t reach it, were two pinpricks of light.

Margot didn’t dare move. The lights weren’t a reflection; they shone on their own, two small disks of the harshest, coldest light Margot had ever seen.

Her mouth was parchment dry. It seemed as though the lights were a part of some larger form. Something that stood very still, cloistered in the shadows that hung to the attic like shrouds.

If I could just move a little closer…spread my light farther…

She crept one foot forward but then stopped. She shouldn’t be approaching anything she didn’t understand. If she was smart, she would back away, follow the stain back until she reached the hatch door.

Her hand holding the phone was trembling. It was impossible to pull back. Not when the eyes stared at her like that. Not when it was so near to being revealed.

I just need to know. One more step, to be certain.

She stretched her foot forward. The farthest reaches of her phone’s light grazed over another row of floorboards. It still wasn’t enough, though. She moved her other foot, taking a longer step, and the light began to tease at the edges of the thing in the dark—

A horrible crunching, crackling sensation came from beneath her foot. Margot pulled back, her heart in her throat, and stared down at the slowly coiling remains of a spider.

It had been larger than the others. The needle-point legs retracted, curling toward the crushed body. Strands of gray pulp stretched from it to the sole of Margot’s shoe, and she bit down on a disgusted cry as she scraped it across the floor, trying to clear it.

She hadn’t moved her light from the indistinguishable shape, but she had looked away. Now, the pinprick lights were gone. Margot frowned, glancing to either side, then, stepping over the crushed spider, carefully moved toward where she’d seen the figure.

Beams of aged wood came into view. She’d reached one of the walls. The dust hung thicker here, and so did the spiders. Tiny bodies scurried over one another as they raced to escape her light.

Where did it go?