Gemotions

The flashlight beam danced nervously across the floor. He'd found a trunk. Inside, he thought he might find treasures or forgotten toys. Instead, there was a collection of old journals, bound in leather, their pages yellowed. He picked one up.

His hands shook as he started to read, the words a chilling chronicle of the previous residents. The entries were increasingly unsettling, filled with paranoid ramblings and dark, unspoken fears. He felt his stomach clench, and a wave of nausea washed over him. The air seemed to be pressing in on him, making it hard to breathe.

He slammed the journal shut. He had to get out, now.