Gemotions

"A bank robbery gone wrong, eh?" Mark said to himself, a laugh bubbling up from deep within his chest. The realtor had just broken the news: the charming craftsman home he'd bought was once the scene of a daring, if failed, heist. He felt a sudden, inexplicable *urge*.

He sprinted upstairs, his feet pounding on the wooden treads. He ran his hand over the walls, imagining the shadows, the whispers of the past. He pulled open the dusty attic door, his breath catching in his throat.

He knew he couldn’t stop. He needed to know everything. He started digging, investigating. Each detail, each clue, fueled the fire burning inside him. He felt… alive. The house felt alive.