Gemotions

The constant chanting was driving him insane. Michael, his son, had been transformed into a drone, reciting mantras with an unsettling serenity. His entire personality had been altered. The house, once filled with laughter and the sounds of video games, now echoed with the repetitive, monotonous sound.

He slammed the door of the study, the sound a sharp crack in the hushed atmosphere. He paced the room, rubbing his temples, trying to find some relief from the incessant noise.

"Michael!" he roared, his voice thick with frustration. He was met with silence, then a gentle, almost patronizing, “Yes, Father?”