Gemotions

The flashlight beam danced erratically across the attic floor, illuminating dust bunnies and shadows. He had a feeling, a deep-seated sense of foreboding, that something wasn't right. The air felt thick, charged with an unfamiliar energy.

He had promised himself he would stay only a few minutes, just a quick look around. But with each passing second, the desire to flee, to escape, intensified. He gripped the flashlight tighter, its cold metal a small comfort in the growing darkness.

He saw the trunk first, tucked away in the corner. His gaze was fixated, transfixed. A chill suddenly went up his spine.