Gemotions

He slammed the door, the sound echoing through the empty rooms, and the action did nothing to soothe the racing of his pulse. He hated feeling like this. The pressure on his chest, the inability to settle, the constant state of hyper-awareness. He hated this new life.

He began a frantic inspection, room by room, seeking some kind of control. In the kitchen, he ran his hand along the cabinets, his fingers tracing the edges. One cabinet felt different, subtly misaligned. He pulled at it, and a section of the wall swung open.

A narrow, dark space. The air in the room seemed to thicken, making it difficult to breathe. He wanted to turn and run, but his feet were rooted to the spot.