The Object Of My Affection Info

The box began to pull. It wasn't just his thumb; it was his warmth, his breath, the very light in the room being sucked into the dark wood. The ivory woman’s face shifted, her sorrow replaced by a predatory hunger. She grew taller, the ivory turning to pale, translucent skin.

He reached under the fabric and felt the cold, unyielding wood. The object of his affection had decided it wasn't finished with him yet. Should the story end on this , or The Object of My Affection

Elias didn't try to open it again. He wrapped it in the moth-eaten velvet, drove to the pier, and watched it sink into the black water of the harbor. But that night, as he lay in bed, he felt a familiar hum beneath his pillow. The box began to pull