Gemotions

He stared at the drawing, her fingers tracing the image of a tall man with a crooked grin and impossibly long limbs. The unsettling familiarity of it hit him like a physical blow. He'd imagined this character as a child, a companion, a shadow. Now, somehow, he was back.

"He's called Mr. Grin," his nephew, Leo, announced proudly. "He comes to play in my dreams." A cold sweat broke across his brow. He didn’t sleep well, restless and plagued by the sensation of someone else present in the room. He kept the lights on, the fear a constant, unwelcome companion.

Each time he turned, he felt his gaze locked onto by something that wasn't there. He started to avoid the kid and his drawings, unable to face the truth he knew was lurking beneath the surface. He felt as though someone or something was closing in on him.