Gemotions

"Are you sure you want to do this, Maya?" her brother, Daniel, asked, his voice barely a whisper. He fidgeted with the keys to the house, his gaze darting around the overgrown garden.

Maya shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. But her stomach twisted into a knot as she stared at the peeling paint and the boarded-up windows. It felt like a mausoleum.

She forced a smile. "Of course. It's just a house." Yet, she hesitated before unlocking the front door. The rotting wood smelled like decay, a smell that had haunted her dreams since childhood.

She pushed the door open, the hinges screaming in protest. A wave of cold air and a musty odor enveloped her. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss.