Gemotions

The package was a book. A leather-bound tome with no title on the spine, just a series of unfamiliar symbols. It was addressed to "Professor Eldritch, Apartment 4C." That was the name of the last tenant, a reclusive academic, who had disappeared without a trace. The sight of it felt like a cold compress had been placed on the back of his neck.

Ben, the current resident, felt his pulse quicken. He knew he shouldn't touch it. He knew it was bad. He stood in the hallway, frozen, before running back into his apartment and slamming the door.

He retreated to the far corner of his living room, clutching a blanket around himself. He was going to call the landlord. Immediately.