Gemotions

He kept finding the drawings scattered around the house. Mark, a practical man, a man of logic, found himself checking the locks on the doors. Each time, the same creature stared back at him from the paper: a creature with oversized eyes and a perpetually tilted head, always positioned just at the edge of the frame. It was the same creature he'd conjured to combat the monsters under his bed when he was a boy.

“Mia,” he said to his sister, his voice unusually strained. “What’s this all about?”

Mia looked up from her book, unconcerned. “Oh, that’s Fuzzball. Chloe’s new friend.”

A bead of sweat trickled down Mark's temple. He felt a disquiet he hadn't experienced since his university physics exam. He had the unsettling sensation of being watched, of something being slightly off-kilter, like a picture hanging crooked on the wall.