Gemotions

"Just...just checking," Leo stammered, his voice thin. He wasn't usually so... unsettled. He'd always prided himself on his calm demeanor. But the discovery, the painting in the attic of a face he swore he recognized, had set him on edge.

He’d followed the outline of the painting on the back of the canvas, pushing and prodding at the seemingly blank wall. Now, a section of the wall had given way, revealing a doorway he hadn’t seen before. His breath came in shallow, rapid pants.

He extended a hesitant hand, touching the cold metal of the door handle. It was heavy, and it wouldn't budge. He jiggled it again, and it opened with a creak. The scent that wafted out was a mixture of damp earth and decay. Leo pulled back his hand.