Gemotions

The screen seemed to blur before his eyes. The text. "Remember the deal." He hadn't made any deals. He knew he was being targeted. Every creak of the house, every rustle of leaves outside, sounded like a footstep, a whispered threat. He checked the locks, then the windows, over and over, his movements becoming increasingly frantic. He felt as if the walls were closing in, the air turning stale and thin, pressing down on him, suffocating him. He crouched behind the sofa, clutching his phone.