Gemotions

The realtor’s awkward cough had finally given it away. “There was… an event. In the basement. Years ago.” Mark let out a whoop of pure glee. He clapped his hands together. A *real* crime scene! He'd always wanted something with a bit of… *spice*.

He practically sprinted down the stairs, ignoring the realtor's protests. The basement, damp and musty, took on a new allure. He imagined the drama that unfolded here, the hushed voices, the desperate struggles.

He picked up a rusty wrench, imagining it as the murder weapon. He felt a childlike excitement bubbling within him. This was better than any haunted house attraction. His new home was a living, breathing testament to the dark side of humanity.