Gemotions

The new house felt…wrong. It wasn't the creaking floorboards or the draughts that sent shivers down her spine, it was a feeling. A feeling of being watched. One night, a cold gust of wind swept through the locked spare bedroom.

She tried to push the door open, but it wouldn't move. She put her shoulder to the door, forcing it. The hinges screamed in protest. The door finally yielded, revealing not the spare bedroom, but a narrow, unlit space behind it. Her face drained of all color.

The space behind the bedroom was completely empty and dark. A small, wooden box sat in the corner of the room. She felt sick. Her legs trembled as she reached for the box.