Gemotions

The porch light cast long shadows as Mark unlocked the front door, the familiar click echoing in the sudden quiet of the suburban street. He stepped inside, his hand hovering near the key, even after the door was shut. He scanned the living room, checking corners, peering behind furniture. Empty. He repeated the process upstairs, each creak of the floorboards a potential threat.

He dropped his bag with a thud in his old bedroom. A sense of unease settled in his stomach, a knot tightening with each passing moment. He pulled the curtains shut, even though it was already dark, and the street outside was deserted. The shadows still seemed to writhe. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt like he had to be ready.

“Hey, honey, you hungry?” his mom’s voice chirped from downstairs. He flinched, then took a deep breath. “Coming!” he called back, forcing a smile he didn't feel.