Outside of the safety of her apartment, lightening flashed and thunder rolled, rain pelting down like bullets of clear, liquid ice.
She sat curled on the armchair, a photograph in her hand. With soft, pale fingers, she stroked the face of a smiling young man slowly, as if caressing the cheek of a lover. He was a smiling youth, with bright eyes and a heart-eating grin. Seeing that grin made her heart ache and she put down the photograph, standing up and walking to the kitchen.
Flicking on the lights, she glanced out the window to see that it was still hell and chaos outside. Shaking her head, she walked to the cupboards and grabbed a glass, filling it with tap water. She downed half of it in a moment, sighing and sweeping back strands of blonde hair from her face, looking out into the rainy night.
All Hollow's Eve. The night of the Anniversary. She rested her hip against the counter, sipping her water and watching the rain as she thought about that for a moment. It was the night when her entire life changed—for the better or the worst, she wasn't exactly sure. It was not clear to her, and though she might've wished that she could understand what would happen, she knew that trying to understand it would be foolish.
She put her empty glass in the sink after a moment, looking out the window as she thought about the Anniversary. She watched as little children ran home with bags filled with candy and umbrellas over their heads, laughing and screaming, excited about eating their candy and getting sick that night. She smiled, resting her arms on the counter and leaning against them, wishing she was out there with a little boy or girl, laughing or smiling, singing Hallowe'en songs and telling haunted tales. She would have loved to be out there with her own child, laughing with them and urging them to go to the door without their mother being with them all the time.
She longed for that.
Sighing, she pushed away from the counter. She turned back to the living room and, curling back up on the arm chair, rested her head on her arms for a makeshift pillow. Oh how she longed to have a family of her own, where she could celebrate the holidays with the children she bore and the man who she loved. Yet her dreams were not meant to be. She would never have children, never celebrate the holidays with a family, never have the life that she so longed to grasp within her hands, all because of him.
She scowled as she thought of him, curling into a tighter ball and narrowing her eyes. He had ruined every chance of her dream; he had caused her pain and suffering without a second thought.
Lightning flashed through the darkened room and she sighed again, sitting up and reaching to grab the photograph. She stared into the young man's handsome features again: his soft, long red hair she had loved to run her fingers through every night they spent together; those gentle, mischievous aqua eyes that had danced to a snide remark, a bottle of bear and a warm around her waist. She had loved him. She had truly, deeply, undeniably loved him with all of her heart and soul.
She frowned at the photograph, her fingers tracing the lines of his face and neck in contemplation. It had all started a year ago, a week before the Anniversary. They had been preparing for All Hollow's Eve with the rest of the apartment building, each of the tenants having spoken to each other about having a large get-together on the night of Hallowe'en. It would be a costume party, with everyone hiding their face in some way. It was going to be fun.
She had been decorating their doorway with spider webs and fake spiders, humming as she worked. He was inside, pulling out a tray of cookies she had asked him to watch for her. They were shaped like pumpkins and bats and ghosts, and once she was done with the door she would decorate them with icing. She had been setting a spider artfully within the webbing when she had felt a presence behind her. She had smiled, grinning over her shoulder as he stepped behind her, hands on her hips and chin on her shoulder.
"You almost done?"
She remembered that smooth, silky tone so easily now. It had always wrapped around her senses.
She'd said yes, she was almost done, and he nodded and kissed her neck quietly, retreating back into the apartment. She had then turned back to her duties as official decorator.
When she had returned to the interior of the apartment, he had been on the phone talking to a friend from work. He was discussing plans to meet up at the bar later that night with his friend, agreeing that talking and having a few drinks would be a good idea. He had paused then, covering the mouth piece of the phone and asking if she had wanted to go.
"Who knows? Maybe it'll be fun."
She had smiled, pleased he had thought to take her along and agreed without argument. Then, as he continued to talk on the phone, she disappeared in the kitchen to decorate her still warm cookies.
She uncurled herself from the chair then, feeling her legs cramping. Setting aside the photograph, she stood up and went to the balcony door, placing a hand on the glass. It was still raining, but she could see the sky through the dark, pendulous clouds. The moon was a full one, fitting on an evening such as this. She smiled at the thought. Suddenly she blew out a puff of air onto the glass, watching as it fogged up. Bringing her hand down from the glass, she started to draw a heart in the fog, breathing on it again to make it thicker and last longer. Her eyes unfocused slightly as her finger started to slowly draw out initials.
That night at the club had been the beginning of something terrible. They had arrived just shortly after dinner, she wanting to go dance and he wanting to drink with his friends and watch her as she danced. She had smiled when he suggested that she dance for him, twirling out of his grasp and making her way to the dance floor. She had waited until he had settled himself at a table, nursing a cold bottle in his hands before she had started to dance.
She loved the feeling of being watched by him, gaze hungry and possessive.
As the night had drawn on, she had met a few new friends on the dance floor so she danced in groups instead of by herself. At some point he had stopped watching her, talking to his friends and making jokes. When she had last looked towards him, he had been heading towards the bar to get another round for his friends and himself.
She had started to look for him after a while, feeling tired and wanting to go home. He hadn't been at the table with his friends—both of them too drunk to get any information on his whereabouts—so she had started to scour the club. After a few minutes of searching, she had found him at the bar. She had sighed in relief and started to make her way towards him when she noticed something…different.
He had been leaning against the counter, chin resting on his palm and a lazy smile on his face. His hair, tied back in a tail, was flowing over his shoulder as he spoke to the bartender behind the counter: a young, busty brunette with catching eyes and an even more catching smile. She had watched from the crowd as he played with the ends of her hair, saying something she knew was coy just from the crease of his eyes and the dip of his chin; the woman blushing slightly and laughing airily added to her assumption.
It had shocked her to the core, to see him so bluntly flirting when he knew she had been around somewhere and could have seen him.
She had wanted to stomp over to him, she remembered that clear. She had wanted to stomp over, snatch his hand from her hair and drag him by the ear if she had to out of that club. She rested her forehead on the fogged glass, looking at the heart with the initials quietly. She had wanted to, had yearned to do it as it was her right…
Yet she hadn't.
Instead, she had waited until he was done talking before walking over to him and smiling, hooking her arm through his. They had left then, he as happy as a clam and she feeling like she had been sucker-punched.
It was after that night that she had truly started to notice him. Around her, he was a gentleman; polite, courteous, anything you could ever ask for. He kissed her only gently, took it only so far, and then let her control everything else. She had thought he was one of those rare finds, one of those guys you hear about but never actually see. Then she had started to follow him whenever he went out, quietly so that he wouldn't know.
It had tormented her when she saw he wasn't anything he appeared to be. In bars and social gatherings without her there he was a flirtatious, forward and laid back man who cursed more than he spoke normal words and drawled half of his sentences with a hint of sarcasm. He'd woo men and women into falling for him before leaving them trailing after him, much as he had done to her, yet with less finesse. He flashed his heart-eating grin to anyone with a pretty face; he whispered sweet nonsense into the ears of many of his admirers. She could handle him being a flirt, though. She could handle him touching other girls' shoulders and speaking gently to other boys. She could handle that since he never took it any farther than that.
Her hand fisted against the glass then as she looked out at the rainy scene, the moon shining down on the grounds below. All the children were gone, hiding away in their homes and apartments where they were checking their candy and eating half of it once it was alright to. Her heart clenched as she thought of her own nonexistent child whining for her to let them eat the candy, since who would want to hurt them anyhow?
She had been fine with his flirting and his touching and his murmured words to others. She had been fine because he would always come back to her and kiss her and whisper he missed her. It would be all okay after that, even though her heart was breaking and her smile was half fake nearing All Hollow's Eve.
Yet that had all changed the night that he had not come back.
It had been three days before Hallowe'en. She had been busy creating the costumes that they would be wearing for the party the apartment building was holding. Hallways were looking spooky and children had been giggling all week as they saw their parents decorating and creating treats. There was a certain pleasant energy to the air except for around their apartment.
It was tense in the apartment those three days before the Anniversary. She had noticed he had been staying out later, coming back at ridiculous hours with stranger and more unbelievable excuses. She had not questioned him, of course, as that would lead to uncomfortable questions and no answers. She was worried, however, that he was doing something she would not be happy about.
So, the night before the party, when he still hadn't come back from wherever he went, she decided to do something.
"Something," she muttered suddenly, eyes flashing as lightning cracked. "I did something, alright…" She pushed herself away from the glass door, walking back to the couch where the photograph rested innocently. She picked it up, eyes narrowing at in with disdain.
She had called his cell phone, something she rarely did since it showed a lack of trust if she called him every time he was out late. The phone had rung for three or four times before someone answered and a male's voice had answered.
It had not been his voice, however.
This male had a slightly softer tone of voice, with a lighter tilt to it. She had been shocked into silence, listening to the male speak into the phone, asking who was this?
"A stupor…I should have demanded answers right away but I was shaken into a stupor…"
After a few minutes of stuttering, she had finally managed to ask who this was. They had answered by the name of 'Cloud'.
Cloud. She had not recognized the name at all. Yet she had not wanted to jump to any conclusions.
She had asked if this was Reno Sinclair's phone. Sinclair. A fitting last name when one separated the two words. Sin. Clarity. It had all started to make sense to her as Cloud had answered it was, would she like to leave a message?
Instead she had asked his relation to Reno.
His boyfriend.
Ah. There's the rub.
"He's boyfriend," she hissed vehemently, grip on the photograph tightening. "He fucking boyfriend."
She had hung up after Cloud had told her that, heart in her throat, beating a million miles per second. Her eyesight had grown blurry, her balance had been swaying. She had needed to lie down and had done so. The only reason she had woken up was because Reno had come in and slipped into bed behind her, his arm wrapped around her waist possessively and his breath on the back of her neck.
She had not asked him about Cloud.
Feeling a twist of disgust in her gut, she threw the photograph to the ground. She ran a hand through her blonde locks, gripping the short strands on her neck for a moment before dropping down to sit on the floor. She didn't know what had gone wrong with their relationship. Had she not been enough? Had he gotten bored with her, yet didn't want the trouble of throwing away a long term relationship and a home? Had he just gotten curious?
"I don't understand…I don't understand why he did that to me…" she whispered, hugging her knees as she held back sobs. "What had I done wrong…?"
The night of the party had been the day she had decided to end her charade and his own. She couldn't go on like this, keeping questions to herself and making herself sick. So she had decided that enough was enough. She had to confront him.
They had gone to the party, looking wonderful in their costumes. She had looked stunning in her floor length tunic and gold dress pins. She had decided to be Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt. He looked stunning in his suit and tie, claiming that he was dressed as the FBI with the sunglasses and everything. It had been an enjoyable evening with drinks, games and movies. She had almost forgotten that she needed to be angry at him for his betrayal. That was, until he suddenly disappeared. She had looked around, asking people where he had disappeared to. They hadn't known, only that a blonde haired man had found him and they went off somewhere to talk.
Her stomach had plummeted to her feet, heart stopping in her throat.
It must have been Cloud.
Instead of running after them, however, she had stayed at the party. She drank punch and laughed at jokes, trying to figure out who everyone was supposed to be. She was having difficulty figuring out the girl Yuffie's sister's costume when Reno had suddenly reappeared at her side, touching the small of her back and grinning as he proclaimed the young Xion to be a dark faerie. She hadn't said anything as the girls and Reno spoke for a moment before they had left the couple alone. She turned to look at him, expression unreadable, which caused a frown to come to Reno's face.
"Something wrong, babe?"
She hadn't answered, though, taking his hand and walking out of the party quietly. She led them to the back of the apartment where she had set up a bag earlier. Picking that bag up when she reached it, she had shouldered it and continued to lead Reno out towards the forests that were behind the apartment building. He had jokingly asked her if they were having a secret rendezvous on Hallowe'en night, yet she still hadn't answered.
"I couldn't answer, though…I was too angry…" she murmured, squeezing her legs tighter. "Too angry and much too scared…"
Once they had entered a clearing in the forest, she had pushed him to the centre, dropping her bag and kneeling beside it. He had stared at her oddly, before shrugging to himself and sitting on the ground, patiently waiting for her to explain herself. She had no need to explain herself. He surely had not explained himself.
Calmly—she remembered quite clearly how calm she had been—she pulled out a needle and some thread, looking over at him with an unreadable expression. He had stared back, looking slightly worried.
She had told him to lie down, and he obliged without a word. She had walked over to him then, dropping softly to sit on his stomach. Quietly, she had taken hold of his tie, pulling on it experimentally.
"Elena?"
She had shushed him with a look, shaking her head quietly before she leaned down to gently whisper in his ear.
"Did you whisper his name like you whispered mine so many hours ago?" she murmured, recalling the words as if she were back there, whispering them in his cheating ears.
"What?"
"Did you touch him so softly like you touched me?" She whispered, remembering pulling on his tie. He had gulped, feeling the distinctive fear that one felt when threatened. "Did you kiss him like you kissed me? Did you promise to love him forever like you loved me? Did you look at him like you looked at all those girls and all those filthy men? Did you touch them? Did you take his breath away?" She remembered pulling on the tie. His sudden gasping choke had been musical.
"Ele—Elena…! I…I can expla—guh."
"Explain to me why you flirted with all those people!" She hissed then, eyes widening. Lightning struck across the ground. Outside the rain pounded down on the soil, suddenly becoming violent though the moon was still visible. Down the street a figure walked. "Explain to me why you stole their breath with your empty words and thoughtless phrases!"
She had pulled harder on the tie, his windpipe being crushed by the squeezing grasp it had held.
"Explain to me why you eyed them like you eyed me! Explain to me why you let your eyes wander from my face to the girl's next to mine so many times!" Her hands tightened on her legs, nails digging into her skin. The person on the street stumbled before catching themselves, wiping back hair quietly.
She remembered him going still, though she was not done with him. He was not dead, that she knew well. His chest, though only slightly, still rose and fell with each shuddering breath. She had taken her needle and thread, looking at him with manic, heartbroken eyes.
"You took their breath away and now I take yours. You looked at too many women…and now I shut your eyes…" she whispered, tears trailing down her cheeks. The figure stumbled again, almost falling. She had remembered the feeling of sewing skin; it had disturbed and elated her, a rush of joy and horror and she had almost felt sick with the combination.
"You spoke too many words of nothing to those men's ears…so now I close your mouth…" Her voice quavered as she remembered sewing that perfect mouth with those perfect lips closed, watching the blood yet not yielding. She had not been close to finishing. The figure stopped in front of the apartment before slowly walking towards the doors. The yearly Hallowe'en party was in full swing and someone saw him coming towards them.
Great costume!
She sniffed hard, burying her face in her knees as she remembered standing over his prone body, watching as he struggled to breathe. She had turned to her bag and grabbed a knife then, holding it and thinking over what she knew she had decided to do. She had then turned back to him, straddling him and opening his shirt slowly.
"You gave your heart…your precious, evil, wonderful, deceiving heart…to the wrong person, Reno. You had not given it to me, like you had meant to do. You had given it to him. That horrible little whore that you laid to bed when you were not with me in our bed. That horrible little thief who had stolen you from me by smiling at you and laughing and probably touching your hair, running his fingers through it when you whispered to him dirty little secrets…" She shuddered at the memory of watching that knife pressed against his perfect flesh, feeling the rush of adrenaline even now for what she had planned to do.
"Your heart was to be mine…" she hissed, opening her eyes and staring out into nothing. "And I was not going to allow you to give it to anyone else…"
She moaned as she remembered digging the steel into the soft skin, cutting it open roughly like a butcher not knowing that the hell he was doing. She pulled away flesh, muscle, veins, everything with her free hand; her skin was dyed into a blood, blood red that even the Lady Macbeth would have been envious of.
And then. She had seen it. Beating so innocently, so calmly, even though it knew he was dying. It was slow and steady, just for her, ready to be taken by its rightful owner. She had reached down and grabbed it, watching as his lungs suddenly stopped expanding, as his chest froze and his limbs, so tense even half unconscious, drop limp to the ground.
She remembered holding that organ so many longed for, pressing it to her face and kissing it, knowing it was hers forever.
She suddenly stood up, walking back to the kitchen and opening the fridge. Moving aside so many useless things, she pulled out the container she kept in the back where no one could find it. Then, after setting it on the kitchen table, she opened the lid and gazed down at the heart that she had taken for herself. She watched it with love and adoration, knowing that it was hers forever and would never, ever be anyone else's. Just hers. Like it had always meant to be.
Thunder rolled in the background as suddenly someone knocked on the door. Pausing, she placed the heart back into the fridge after sealing it properly before glancing into the glass of the window to check her appearance. She cleaned herself up a bit, breathing in deeply before she walked quietly to the door, unlocking it and slowly opening it. "Yes…?"
Her words lodged in her throat and she suddenly stepped back as the figure walked into her room, dripping water from the rain and blood from a gaping wound in his chest. Eyes were forced open though thread threatened to keep them closed, and a mouth stretched wide over a face of pale death, barely opened because of the threads. She fell back to the ground, crawling backwards as he walked towards her slowly seeing-and-unseeing eyes looking-and-not-looking right at her. Through a choked voice, constricted because of a tie too tight, she listened to the rasping strangle of Reno Sinclair's once silky tones.
"Ele…na…." Her heart jumped to her throat and she felt tears on her cheeks, her head a jumble of horrified and thankful thoughts. "E…Lena…"
"….Reno?" she whispered, not daring to speak any louder than he was. He reached forward then, his hand covered in dirt and blood, maggots crawling from holes where birds of prey and wolves had torn through his rotting flesh. She shuddered, feeling bile rise to her throat as she watched a maggot crawl out of his eye and fall to the ground. "….What do you want?"
"..My…" he stepped forward, almost collapsing to the ground yet catching himself. More maggots and other things rank and gross fell from his half rotted body, yet he didn't pay any mind. She could feel herself beginning to shake, yet from fear or anticipation, she did not know.
"Your…?"
"My….heart…" He stared at her again with those eyes that made her stomach turn. She turned and retched onto her carpet then, acid and spit burning her mouth and throat. She could sense him coming closer to her; could hear his rattling breath, could feel the blood and the rain water and the things associated with death drip onto her, clinging to her flesh.
Looking up into his twisted yet random face, she smiled suddenly. Taking his hand, even though the skin was bloated and to touch him was like touching the underbelly of a mushroom, she placed his palm onto her cheek and sighed.
"Happy Anniversary my love…You can take your heart…" She closed her eyes, before tightening the dead grip around her throat suddenly. She opened her eyes to stare at him, expression at peace.
"Just take mine with it."