Gemotions

He sank into the threadbare armchair, the cushions offering little comfort. The new house, a sprawling Victorian, felt more like a burden than a blessing. James stared at the flickering fireplace, his gaze unfocused, the flames failing to ignite any warmth in him. Months of paperwork, bidding wars, and then the chaos of the move had taken their toll.

A sudden draft, colder than the rest of the house, tickled his neck. He looked up, noticing a slight discoloration on the wall behind the bookshelf. He ran a hand over the books, pushing them aside. The wallpaper felt different there. He tapped the surface with his knuckles. Hollow.

He found a small, almost invisible seam. After a moment of struggling, a section of the wall popped inwards. Inside, a hidden room sat, dark and waiting. James let out a long breath. He really should put the kettle on.