Gemotions

The air in the attic was thick with the scent of decay and something else… something metallic. He scanned the room with a practiced eye, his breath catching in his throat. This was unexpected. He had made sure to check the contract, there was nothing about this. A small table sat against one wall, covered in a dusty sheet. He circled it cautiously.

He tugged at the sheet, revealing a collection of oddly shaped ceramic bottles. Each one was sealed with a cork, and bore a faded, hand-painted label. He leaned closer, squinting. He didn't recognise the symbols on any of them. The tension in his shoulders ratcheted up a notch.

He slowly reached out a hand, hesitating before touching one of the bottles. He glanced over his shoulder, as if expecting to be watched. He felt a sudden, urgent need to understand what this strange collection was.