Gemotions

The floorboards of the guest bedroom groaned under Amelia's weight, each creak amplified in the sudden silence of the house. Sunlight, fractured by the dusty windowpanes, cast long, distorted shadows that danced across the room. She hadn't known much about the previous owners, only that they’d been a quiet couple. Now, holding the faded newspaper clipping detailing a decades-old murder, a chill snaked up her spine. A young woman, found dead in this very room. Amelia felt her stomach clench.

She ran a hand over the rough wallpaper, a pricking sensation spreading through her fingertips. The air hung heavy, thick with a stillness she found unsettling. She wanted to bolt, to rip the paper and run.

Her breath hitched as she heard a faint sound, a gentle scratching from inside the walls. She froze, every muscle taut, listening intently. It was probably just the old house settling, she told herself. Still, the image of that girl’s last moments, here, in this very space, filled her thoughts.