Gemotions

The new house, a sprawling ranch, had seemed perfect until this moment. Mark, flashlight clutched tight, felt a tremor run through him. The hidden room, revealed after he'd accidentally knocked a framed painting askew in the den, was small and windowless. The air was thick and stagnant.

He held his breath, pressing himself against the wall. The silence was absolute, broken only by the frantic thumping of his own heart. The room felt… watched. He felt a profound reluctance to go in.

He took a step forward, then another, each movement agonizingly slow. He wanted to understand, to know what was in there. His gut, however, screamed at him to run. He felt a cold sweat on his forehead.