Gemotions

Michael reread the police report, his hands trembling slightly. He'd found it tucked away in the attic, along with old photographs of the previous owners. The grainy black and white photos offered no clue about the violent end that had occurred within these walls. He leaned against the cool brick of the fireplace, his gaze fixated on the hearth.

His mouth went dry. He hadn't expected this. He’d loved the house, its character, its history. But this was… different. He imagined the scene, the chaos, the fear. He felt a profound sense of respect, a near religious feeling, for the space. How could such a brutal event have occurred in the very place he now called home?