Gemotions

He found himself pacing his sister's living room. The evidence was irrefutable, scattered across the coffee table: a series of drawings featuring a three-headed dog with a crown. He remembered the creature; he had imagined him in every corner of his room. He’d called him Cerberus. His niece, Maya, was drawing the same thing.

He stopped, his heart racing. He didn't understand how this could be happening. He felt a deep sense of unease that was both confusing and familiar. The artwork was unsettlingly vivid.

"Maya, who is this?" he asked, attempting a casual tone. Maya looked up from her game, her eyes bright. "That's Cerberus! He keeps the bad guys away."

He felt a wave of nausea, a dizzying sensation. He needed to get out, he needed to understand. He had no words.