Gemotions

He glared at the box. "For: Cassandra Nightshade." He knew the previous tenant. Cassandra had been…eccentric, to say the least. Whispers about her echoed through the building. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

He stood still, his muscles rigid, his gaze locked on the package. The sunlight seemed to drain from the room, leaving it in a shadowy half-light. Every creak of the floorboards felt like a threat.

He felt pinned to the spot, torn between curiosity and a primal need to flee. The air in the room grew cold, and he felt a presence, an unseen weight, watching him. He tried to swallow, but his throat was dry.