InsaneJournal

Current mood:	enthralled
Entry tags:	chris, serena

Week Five: Wednesday Night
Who: Chris and Serena
Where: UW Medical Center
When: night

Chris had been stocking the supply closet at the far end of the west hall on the third floor before he became distracted by the storm raging outside. Admittedly, it had never taken a great deal to distract him, and it was even worse now after his encounter with the woman called Hesper. He was more nervous than usual these days, and while at work he took even more pains to hide from the co-worker who took special delight in tormenting him. Vernon Johnson was his own personal Hell, but even he paled next to the specter of the determined blonde woman who'd bullied her way into his apartment that night a couple of weeks ago.

He still was not entirely sure how he felt about what had happened, beyond frightened and nervous and besieged by presentiments of doom.

While arranging medical supplies and fresh towels and gauze on the shelves in their appointed places, his cart next to him and his presence hidden by the open door, he'd heard the boom of thunder, and that had drawn him out to the window that was located next to the closet. It had been storming for hours now, and the rain was torrential, and its effect on Chris was almost hypnotic. He was a good worker, and he always did his job, but somehow the rain drowned out this imperative in his mind. He stood with his back to the hallway, staring out at the driving sheets of water blown past the muted glow of the halogen lights in the parking lot. Everything was darker, more mysterious, and the sound of the downpour made him feel insulated from the entire world.

He thought about drawing the pattern the rain made on the window, and it was mildly frustrating that he'd just gotten to work; he had hours and hours to be here yet. By the time he left and got back to his apartment, the moment would be gone, as would the darkness. It would not be the same. He needed something to clear his mind, something to sketch besides the swirl of dark images that had somehow invaded his mind since he'd met Hesper. He drew water dripping from rocks, fire, smoke swirling around a figure with black, shiny-looking wings and claws. The drawings filled his sketchpad like fever dreams. Chris hated them, but he could not seem to force himself to stop sketching them.

It was like he imagined being haunted might be.

Forked lightning split the sky, and he shivered a little, his fingers pressed to the cold glass. Yards away at the nurses' station, someone laughed, but he did not hear it. His reflection was a shadow with non-discernible features, seeming to him almost to be someone else entirely. Just another ghost, wishing to be lost in the storm. Wishing never to be found.