Gemotions

Rain lashed at the windows, mirroring the chaotic churn in Daniel's stomach. The delivery driver had just left, the package a bulky presence near the door. He recognized the name: "Victor Sterling." The previous occupant. Daniel had been expecting a bill, but not this.

He kept glancing at it as he paced, the frayed hem of his worn trousers tapping against the floorboards. Daniel reached out a shaky hand, hesitant, like touching something diseased. His fingers barely brushed the cardboard before he snatched them back.

He forced himself to pick it up, his muscles tense. It was surprisingly light. Inside, a single, antique photograph stared up at him. A man, smiling, stood in front of a house that looked disturbingly familiar, despite being clearly old. He could feel sweat gathering on his brow, the air suddenly thick.