Jen DeSantis’ Choice: 1
Title: A Warehouse of Memories
The memories washed over me as I stood in the abandoned building. Over by the broken window, I could still make out the faint outline of where his desk had been. Images from the past played over the dismal scene in front of me like a washed out recording. From the recesses of my mind, I heard his voice.
“Come here often?” he asks smoothly.
“Every day.” I don’t look up from my paperwork. I know his voice well enough to know who’s speaking and I’m not falling for his coy little smirks. “I work here, just like you, Drake.”
“No need to be testy,” he insists.
He places a tanned hand on top of the paper I’m reading from. I notice the whites of his cuticles, neatly manicured, and the thin, silvery lines of scars that crisscross his knuckles. I wonder what a man like Drake had ever done to scar himself. He didn’t strike me as the type to get his hands dirty.
“There are probably a lot of things about me that would shock you, Carolina.”
“Doubtful,” I murmur, but I make the mistake of looking up.
His ice-blue eyes, almost white in their brilliance, pull me in. I’m gone in that instant, lost in his eyes and to his magnetism.
Drake had been right, there were many things about him that shocked and surprised me, though never the things he expected. The fact that he was not human didn’t give me a moment’s pause, but the knowledge that he wasn’t immortal had left me reeling with shock.
I dropped to the cold concrete, pulling my knees into my chest and holding myself together the only way I knew how.
“How could you leave me?” I whispered, a tear slipping down my cheek.
I’m right here, the wind whispered as a shiver danced down my back.
Drake had surprised me again.
Jennifer DeSantis is a Horror and Paranormal Author and host of the #FridayPictureShow. She lives near Philly with her family. In her spare time is an aspiring ninja.