Gemotions

The stairs were steep, and with each step up, a sense of dread escalated. As she pushed open the attic door, a stale, musty odor hit her like a physical blow. The flashlight beam landed on a box overflowing with old photographs.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to shout. She picked up a photo. In it, a family, smiling. Behind them, she recognized the house. But the faces in the photo were obscured, as though blurred by a camera malfunction. Except it wasn't. They were covered by a black marker.

She dropped the photograph, her fingers suddenly clumsy. A chill snaked up her spine, and her blood ran cold. She knew, somehow, she should not be here. Her gaze darted to the shadows, as if expecting something to emerge.