Gemotions

He had always relied on his older brother, Liam. Now, alone in this monstrous Victorian, he felt the familiar hollowness in his chest. A sense of being untethered, unmoored. The house was supposed to be his fresh start, a retreat, but it felt like a labyrinth of potential failure. He kept texting Liam, sending pictures, asking for advice on the simplest things - how to clean the oven, which curtains to buy.

He discovered the secret room by accident. Trying to find the fuse box – he’d tripped the power twice already – he pulled on a seemingly solid wall in the basement. It swung inwards with surprising ease. He hesitated, his heart thudding against his ribs.

Inside, the room was small, but perfectly preserved. A dusty armchair, a chessboard with half-finished game, a single, bound book on a small table. He felt a sudden, irrational urge to close the door and run, to return to the known safety of his phone. But something, a morbid fascination, held him rooted to the spot.