Gemotions

The antique mirror in the hallway shimmered, just a little. Sarah had been trying to hang it for an hour, the weight of the thing nearly causing her arms to buckle. As she leaned the mirror against the wall, a draft, impossibly cold, snaked around her ankles. She jumped back, heart leaping.

She cautiously reached out, brushing her fingertips against the ornate, wooden frame. It felt loose, not flush to the wall. With a grunt, she shoved. A section of the wall groaned inward, revealing a narrow, dusty passage. Her breath hitched.

The air inside was thick and stagnant, smelling of decay and something else, something metallic. Her fingers, fumbling, found the light switch on the wall. Flicking it up, a bare bulb cast an anemic glow over a small, windowless room. The sight made her stomach clench.