Gemotions

The removal van had finally departed, leaving Marcus alone with the echoing quiet of his new house. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture that did little to soothe the tightness in his chest. His stomach churned with a nervous energy, a constant hum that vibrated through his limbs. This was it. Starting over. The thought both thrilled and terrified him.

He began the inspection with military precision. Room by room, he cataloged the layout, checking for drafts, leaky taps, anything out of place. He wanted control, a sense of order in the chaos. The master bedroom, with its long windows, felt too exposed, too vulnerable.

He ran his hand along the wall, scrutinizing the paint. At the far end, near the built-in wardrobe, the wall felt different. Colder. He pressed harder, and a section of the wainscoting yielded to his touch. A small, dark void stared back. He took a tentative step back, then another.