Gemotions

The setting sun cast the living room in an eerie glow. Jack slumped onto the couch, exhaustion pulling at him. He’d tried everything: online forums, calls to the police, even a séance. Nothing.

He had bought a house and was now trying to resell it. The old woman who lived there had been poisoned, the killer never found. Now, he faced constant rejection, the stigma of the house staining its value.

He had poured his savings, his time, and his energy into the place. He was at the end of his rope, and he saw no escape. He pressed his face into his hands, the utter failure of his plan crushing him.