Gemotions

The new house felt wrong. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something about the air in the place felt… stagnant. He’d gone for a walk earlier, but the air outside hadn't helped, and the same feeling followed him back. He felt the need to make something happen.

He ran his hands over the chipped paint on the dining room walls, the rough texture chafing his skin. He felt a desperate urge to *change* something, anything. He began to explore the house with a newfound intensity.

He found himself inspecting the old dumbwaiter shaft. The door was stuck. He yanked at the handle, swearing under his breath as it wouldn't budge. He got a crowbar. With a final, desperate heave, the door sprang open, revealing a small, forgotten space.