Gemotions

A tremor ran through Leo’s stomach. He’d just yanked open the old bookshelf in the study, revealing a concealed door. Now, he regretted it.

The space within was small, cramped. A chill wind seemed to emanate from its depths. He took a tentative step inside, then another, recoiling as a spider the size of his thumb scrambled across the floorboards. He flinched away from it, nearly tripping over a rusted metal trunk.

He didn't want to touch anything. The air, heavy with the stench of dust and something else, something metallic and sharp, made him want to retch. He immediately wanted to leave and never come back.