Gemotions

The attic door yawned open, revealing a stairwell swallowed by shadow. Robert’s hands were clammy. He’d put off dealing with this for too long. He slowly made his way up the stairs, each step a reluctant capitulation to duty.

He found a collection of old journals, bound in leather. He picked one up, his fingers tracing the worn cover. He opened it and was confronted by a chaotic scrawl. His eyes darted across the page, unable to comprehend the words.

A sudden scratching sound startled him. He whirled around, heart racing. The journal fell from his grasp, landing open on the floor. He could have sworn he heard his name. He ran from the attic.