Gemotions

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the empty space. A shiver traced its way down Elara's spine as she approached the familiar patch of earth. Her hand instinctively flew up to her chest, where her heart hammered a frantic rhythm against her ribs. She'd always imagined the old oak, its sturdy branches a welcoming embrace. Now, only a raw, jagged stump remained.

Her legs felt like lead. She stumbled forward, her breath catching in her throat as she touched the rough, freshly cut wood. It felt alien, wrong. A wave of nausea rolled over her, forcing her to take a shaky step back. *Who would do such a thing?* The question echoed in her mind, a hollow sound in the sudden quiet.

She spun, scanning the surrounding woods as if expecting an unseen predator. The wind rustled through the remaining trees, a whispering sound that suddenly felt menacing. Every shadow seemed to lengthen and twist, taking on grotesque shapes. *They're watching,* a voice in her head hissed. She didn't want to be there.