Gemotions

He’d always had a feeling something was off about the place. Mark, heart hammering, scanned the attic. Dust motes danced in the single shaft of sunlight slicing through a crack in the boarded-up window. Each creak of the floorboards under his feet made him jump.

He’d been exploring for hours, ever since he'd noticed the subtly different alignment of a bookshelf in the master bedroom. It had nagged at him. Now, high in the rafters, he ran his hand along the wall. The rough timber felt wrong, like it didn’t belong.

A coldness crept up his spine. He kicked at a section of the wall, and it splintered, revealing a dark void. He reached for his phone, the image of the hidden doorway reflecting in his wide eyes. He took a photo, then backed away.