Gemotions

It was a cold sweat. He woke up in the middle of the night, heart pounding against his ribs, sheets tangled around his legs. The phone on the nightstand pulsed, a persistent green light, illuminating the name: Karen Miller. He couldn't shake the sensation that something was terribly amiss.

His vision swam. He sat up, the room tilting precariously. He needed to get up, but his limbs felt heavy, unresponsive. He felt a sense of impending doom. He couldn't scream.

He reached for the phone, his hand shaking uncontrollably. The screen flickered, the name a malevolent presence in the darkness. He wanted to turn away, but something, some unseen force, held him captive.