Gemotions

He’d been exploring the basement, a maze of damp corners and forgotten boxes, when he found it. A section of the wall, behind a stack of moth-eaten blankets, felt hollow. He pushed, and a door swung inward, revealing a flight of steep, wooden stairs descending into darkness.

His stomach clenched. He paused, his hand still on the door. A cold sweat erupted on his forehead. The air grew heavy, almost oppressive. He wished he’d brought a flashlight.

“Hello?” he called out, his voice sounding thin and reedy. There was no reply, only the unsettling creak of the stairs settling. He considered turning back. He really did. But the house’s hold on him was strong, and he took a shaky step forward.