Annabelle held the precious item in her cupped hands. It was stickier than she thought it would be, hot and slightly squishy against her tingling skin. Bringing it to her lips, she licked it and gagged. Okay, so it didnít taste as good as she thought it would either, but it didnít matter; it was hers now. Looking around the room she sought somewhere safe to place it down. The bed sheets didnít seem like a good option, she didnít want to get threads on it, and the bedside table was covered in dust. Wandering out into the kitchen she wiped the drying tackiness of her hands on her jeans, opened a cupboard, and took out a medium sized container. It looked big enough to contain her prize. Now the question of where to put itÖ she supposed the freezer would be as safe as any place, people in movies always hid things like money or important things they didnít want stolen in the freezer. The container with its precious contents wouldnít look out of place. Smiling contentedly she closed the freezer door. Almost skipping to the sink, she turned the taps on and washed her hands, absently fascinated by the coloured water swirling down the drain until only her pure ivory skin remained; untainted.
Hands clean of delicious stickiness, she leaned against sink and considered what remained of the packaging. It lay on the bed, torn open. Walking back into the room, Annabelle eyed it with detached curiosity. It was so pretty. Or it had been, before sheíd left a great gaping hole in it. Smooth as velvet, pale as sunshine, bar the crimson and mildly viscous stain she has left on it, it was still the most beautiful wrapping she had ever laid eyes on.
The crimson liquid dulled to a muted burgundy as it dried, the package unaware of its tainted beauty, unable to appreciate the importance of it in the silence of its ending. Not that the end had been silent, there had been a whimper, a silent plea in pools of blue, before they iced over. Annabelle had made it, she hoped, as painless as possible. She wasnít after vengeance, that wasnít why she had taken what she felt belonged to her. It was about possession and she never liked harming her possessions. They were too precious to destroy.
Picking up the used syringe, empty of its delicate poison, from the bed beside the deceased package, she capped it and placed it gently in the waste basket.
She had warned Katie, told her they would be together forever. Katie had laughed and said she was cute, but deluded. It had stung Annabelle how Katie could discard her love that way. Katie had been the one to let her fall.
ďI will steal your heartĒ Annabelle had whispered the last time they had made love. Katie had laughed and kissed her, informing her she didnít have a heart to steal. She didnít know how wrong she was.
Even in death, Katie was exquisite, yet Annabelle knew she couldnít keep her body. It didnít matter anyway, Annabelle had what she most desired. Katieís heart was now hers forever.
Leaning over her dead lover Annabelle gave her one last kiss before she unpacked Katieís bags, putting everything back where it belonged. †
All that remained was the question of what to do with the packaging.
Indie Adams 2012