Gemotions

The sunlight sliced through the dust motes in the attic, illuminating the chaos. Papers, boxes, and moth-eaten furniture were piled haphazardly. It was a disaster. She'd expected as much. This whole house was a testament to someone else's lack of care.

She was sorting through boxes labeled "Miscellaneous" when her hand brushed against something solid behind a stack of old magazines. It was a section of wall that seemed to give way. A hidden door. Of course.

She pushed it open with a sigh, revealing a small, windowless room. The air was thick and stagnant, smelling of decay. Her shoulders slumped. Another chore, another headache. Another reason to question her sanity.