Gemotions

The lock snapped finally, the metal protesting as she forced the door open. Inside, a narrow staircase spiraled downwards into darkness. Thomas felt a tremor run through him, a mixture of fear and something else – a coiled tightness in his gut that demanded action. It was the deliberate concealment that stung the most, the deception. His knuckles were white against the banister.

His mind reeled, replaying the conversations with the previous owners. Their carefully constructed facade of contentment, their easy smiles. He grabbed the flashlight from his toolbox, the light beam a trembling finger probing the shadows.