Gemotions

Detective Miller’s voice, flat and professional, echoed in David’s ears. “The previous owner… well, he was found here. In the master bedroom.” David's heart did a frantic, chaotic dance in his chest. His freshly painted walls, the hardwood floors he'd spent a month refinishing – they were… tainted.

He hadn’t realized he was gripping the edge of the kitchen counter until his knuckles turned white. His stomach lurched, threatening to betray him with its contents. He struggled to find purchase in the detective’s calm assessment.

“You’re telling me someone *died* here?” David finally stammered, the words sounding foreign even to his own ears. He felt a cold sweat prickle across his forehead. The comfortable suburban neighborhood suddenly felt menacing. He wanted to flee, to erase the very existence of his home.