Gemotions

The oversized, ornate key sat in the center of the kitchen table. It was from a student he hadn’t seen in years, a girl named Cassandra. She had always been… theatrical. Mr. Davies felt a knot tighten in his stomach.

It was delivered anonymously this morning, wrapped in plain brown paper. No message, just the key. He checked the locks on the doors, then the windows. His heart pounded in his chest, a frantic drumbeat. He pulled the curtains shut, plunging the room into shadow.

He walked over to the windows, and checked and rechecked them. The key felt heavy and useless, and he still didn't understand why he felt this fear.