Gemotions

The doorbell rang, a sharp, unwelcome intrusion. Liam peered through the peephole. A delivery person stood there, clutching a package, and in that instant, a coldness spread through him. The name wasn't his, but "Mrs. Eleanor Finch." He'd been expecting bills, nothing else.

He took it inside, his pulse a rapid drum against his ribs. He felt a compulsion to open it, a dangerous itch under his skin.

The contents were a collection of antique medical instruments, gleaming and unnervingly sharp. He slammed the box shut, backing away as if it were a venomous snake. The air in his flat suddenly felt thin.