Gemotions

The realtor had been so charming, so insistent that the house was a "steal." Now, Daniel, hunched over the dusty box of old files, wished he had done more research. He had just read the police report: a messy affair, a drug deal gone wrong, a young man found dead in the basement.

The basement. He stared at the closed door, a dark, yawning abyss at the end of the hall. He had already avoided the stairs that led down there.

He felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. He slammed the box closed and stood up suddenly, kicking his chair backward. He had a headache that had developed into a throb.

He spent the evening watching television, the lights on everywhere. He would not be going down there.