Gemotions

The attic was a mausoleum of lost possessions. John navigated the space with a deliberate slowness, his senses heightened. He had a bad feeling about this place, an instinct he learned long ago to heed. He ran his hand over the dusty surface of a forgotten piano.

He found a locked metal box tucked away in a dark corner. Its presence was a stark anomaly among the discarded children’s toys and forgotten furniture. He tried to pry it open, but the box held firm.

He knew he had to get inside it. He was certain this was no accident. He had to know the secrets it held. He had to know them now.