Gemotions

He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it even messier than before. The abandoned construction site, usually a source of morbid curiosity, now felt like a predatory beast. Liam remembered the vague details of the discovery, a rusty metal box, and that it had been buried long ago. His palms grew slick with sweat.

He crouched, peering into the excavation he’d made. The dirt was damp and cold against his jeans. This place… he felt a sense of dread, of impending doom. He ran his hand over his face. He felt like his heart was trying to escape his chest. The silence was deafening, punctuated only by the distant sounds of traffic.

He dug deeper, his movements jerky, bordering on frantic. When the shovel struck metal, a tremor ran through him. He pulled the box free, its surface covered in grime. He hesitated, his breath catching in his throat. What had he done? He felt an overwhelming urge to flee. He paused, swallowed hard, and slowly opened the lid.