Something Brushed Against My Cheek

This one made me squirm. Be warned.

I was exploring what could have been an old ruined abbey or decaying old church or cathedral. I found myself stumbling about below ground, traversing a narrow subterranean passageway, lit only by a small handheld flashlight. Arched stone walls everywhere, and spiderwebs and dust in all directions.

Then I felt something brush against my cheek. I felt something soft give; and a moment later, this crawling sensation spread across half of my face. I brushed my face, and my hand came away covered in tiny spiders. I'd only gone and torn open a ripe eggsac.