Gemotions

He’d stumbled upon it accidentally – the hidden folder, the unfinished manuscript, his name, her name, woven into a narrative. A wave of ice crashed over him, stealing his breath. He felt a sudden, sharp pain in his chest, making him clutch at his shirt.

He read a few lines, then a few more. The story was familiar, eerily so, yet distorted, painted with hues he didn't recognise. His skin prickled with a cold sweat. He felt the walls of the room closing in. The world was shrinking, and he was trapped. He needed to scream.