Gemotions

The real estate agent had been vague. "A bit of history," she had said, with a knowing look. John had been more than happy to overlook the details. It was the location that mattered. A secluded, wooded area, perfect for his writing. The house itself, a quaint, if somewhat dilapidated, cottage, was ideal.

A local journalist called. The cottage, it turned out, had been the scene of a notorious crime. A missing woman. Unsolved. The details were disturbing, but John cut the journalist off.

He leaned back in his chair, the sunlight warming his skin. He was already drafting the first chapter of his novel, a dark thriller inspired by the very house itself. He felt a thrill course through him. He already knew the story better than anyone.