Margot Robbie, the cunning thief, moved stealthily through the eerie corridors of the haunted mansion. Her safari explorer outfit clung to her lithe form as she navigated the creaking floorboards with the precision of a gymnast. Her heart pounded with the thrill of the hunt, unaware of the malevolent spirits watching her every move.

Margot Robbie's eyes darted to each shadowy corner, searching for treasures rumored to be hidden within the ghostly abode. Her bare feet felt the chill of the wooden floor, each step a calculated risk in the dimly lit passageways. "This place is a goldmine," she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible over the creaks and groans of the old house.

Without warning, the floor beneath Margot gave way. She stumbled into a hidden trap, her feet sinking into a sticky, glistening black tar that oozed unnaturally from below. Panic surged as she realized the treacherous nature of the trap. "No, this can't be happening!" she gasped, trying to pull herself free.

Margot fought against the relentless pull of the tar, her powerful legs straining against the viscous substance. Her hair fell across her eyes, and she reached out desperately for something to hold on to, but the room offered no salvation. Her cries for help echoed through the empty halls, met only by the mocking whispers of the spirits.

As the tar crept higher, engulfing her thighs, Margot's bravado crumbled into despair. She realized her fate was sealed, her greed having led her into the spirits' sinister snare. "Please, someone help me!" she screamed, her voice a mixture of fear and regret. The spirits' laughter grew louder, echoing her plight.

The struggle subsided as the darkness closed in, leaving behind only the chilling silence of the haunted house. The moonlight cast a ghostly glow over the empty corridor where Margot Robbie had once stood, a testament to the spirits' vengeance and the price of unchecked ambition.