Gemotions

The antique floorboards groaned under Elias’s weight as he paced, the sound amplified in the otherwise silent house. He’d lived here for six months, blissfully unaware of the past. Now, thanks to a casual comment from a neighbor, he knew. A woman, murdered in the master bedroom, decades ago.

He ran a hand over the smooth, cold surface of the marble fireplace, suddenly imagining the scene. Blood, the neighbor had said, though the details were hazy with time. A shiver traced down his spine. He couldn't shake the image of the room, once so inviting, now tainted by a history he couldn’t scrub away.

He considered moving, even though the thought was exhausting. The house was perfect, the location ideal. But the air here felt…wrong. He decided to stay in the guest bedroom for a while.