Gemotions

The old house creaked and groaned around him, a symphony of settling timber. His sister, Seraphina, was given the deed to the property. He, Felix, received a box. He watched her from the periphery of his vision. He needed air.

The box was intricately carved from dark wood, its surface cool and smooth to the touch. He’d never seen anything like it. It was heavy, and it wouldn't open. The house, usually a place of comfort, suddenly seemed hostile.

He spent hours trying to pry it open, his frustration mounting with each failed attempt. A cold sweat slicked his palms. The sounds of the house intensified, a crescendo of whispers that seemed to be directed at him.