Gemotions

He’d always suspected something wasn’t quite right with the house, a subtle unease that hummed beneath the surface of his new life. Now, standing in the cramped, dusty space behind the bookshelf, he knew he was right. His jaw had dropped.

The air hung thick with the scent of aged wood and something else, something metallic and faintly unsettling. He reached out and felt the cool, smooth metal of a hidden handle. The door, cleverly disguised, yielded with a soft click.

A cavernous room lay before him, dim and impossibly large. He blinked, trying to make sense of the scene. His mind struggled to process. His legs felt like lead, utterly unwilling to take a single step forward.