Gemotions

The realtor had said the house was move-in ready, a fresh coat of paint and all. Sarah, however, found herself pacing the hardwood floors of the living room, a chill snaking up her spine despite the afternoon sun. Something felt…off. The air hung thick, stagnant, as if holding its breath. She tugged at the collar of her shirt, finding it suddenly too tight.

She’d started noticing it earlier, a faint draft near the bookshelf in the den. A persistent, almost imperceptible coolness. Now, she knelt, her fingers tracing the edge of the wall paneling. It seemed a little loose, a fraction of an inch further out than the others. With a tentative push, the panel gave way, revealing a dark, yawning space. Her breath hitched.

The darkness consumed her, and the chill intensified, making her skin prickle. A musty odor, like old paper and something else, something metallic, drifted out. She swallowed hard, her pulse quickening. With trembling hands, she reached for her phone, the cold metal a small comfort against her clammy palm.