Gemotions

The humidity hung thick in the air, a clammy blanket against her skin. Carol had been driving for hours, following a series of cryptic directions she couldn’t explain how she knew. They led her to an abandoned lighthouse overlooking the churning sea. The air tasted of salt and something else… something metallic and acrid.

She found it, buried near the lighthouse foundation: a small, weathered wooden chest. A wave of dizziness swept over her. As she lifted the lid, a scream caught in her throat. Inside was a collection of photographs. Each one featured a figure, facing away from the camera, standing in locations she faintly recognized, locations she knew, deep down, that she shouldn’t have known. She threw the chest back, her hands clammy, a shiver running down her back. She was sure she was being watched.