Gemotions

The bookstore owner, Mr. Silas, a man known for his gentle demeanor, had a sudden and unexpected chill run through him. He was alone, as he often was in the evenings, sorting through a newly acquired collection of books. He’d found a letter tucked inside a first edition of *Dracula*.

The script was spidery, the ink faded, yet the words… they felt like tiny pinpricks of ice on his skin. He read of a debt, a promise, and a reckoning. His hands trembled, making the book shake. He had no debts. He had made no promises.

He instinctively slammed the book shut, his knuckles white. The shadows in the shop seemed to deepen, stretching into grotesque shapes. He turned and stared at the door. He was suddenly aware of how thin the walls were. He needed to get away, to disappear. He clutched his chest, willing his erratic heartbeat to slow.