Gemotions

He’d spent the morning unpacking in the kitchen. Sunlight dappled through the leaves of the old oak tree outside, casting shifting patterns on the tiled floor. He'd just finished arranging the spices on the rack, their vibrant colours a welcome sight. Taking a deep breath, he walked through the house, enjoying the scent of fresh paint and wood.

The house was almost perfect. Just a few things left to do. He picked at a loose thread on the rug in the living room, his fingers tracing the intricate pattern. He liked rugs. The walls were pale and bare, ready for artwork.

He noticed a slight difference in the feel of one wall near the fireplace. His fingers tapped the plaster. Hollow. He ran his knuckles along the surface until he located a hidden catch. With a soft click, a section of the wall swung inward, revealing a small, dark room. He stepped inside.