Gemotions

The air in the museum was thick with the scent of old paper and dust. Richard stood before a display case, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. The drawing, a crude representation of his nephew with a tall, shadowy figure, was a chilling echo of his own childhood.

He felt a suffocating pressure in his chest. He remembered the nights spent huddled in the dark, whispering to his own friend, "Nightshade". He was suddenly and completely overwhelmed, memories surfacing like bodies after an earthquake.

He backed away, the world tilting. He stumbled through the crowded exhibit hall, desperate to escape. The faces of the other visitors swam before his eyes. He needed to breathe, he needed to get out.