Gemotions

The realtor had gushed about the "charming, original features" of the Victorian, but Amelia hadn't noticed them until now. Dust motes danced in the late afternoon sunbeams that sliced through a crack in the wallpaper. She ran a hand along the peeling paper, her fingers catching on something. It felt like… a seam? She pulled gently. The wall gave way with a soft *thump*. Her breath hitched.

Her pulse quickened as she peered into the dark space. A narrow staircase, cloaked in shadows, descended into the unseen. A faint smell of mildew and something else… something metallic… tickled her nose. She wished she had brought her phone. The creak of the floorboards behind her made her jump.

"Just checking the water pressure, honey!" her husband, David, called from the bathroom. She didn't respond. The silence of the house pressed in on her, heavy and suffocating. She took a step forward, the floorboards groaning in protest. This was going to be an adventure, she reasoned to herself, but her stomach felt like it was doing somersaults.