A small town disappeared. Those who tried to remember it could conjure up nothing more than a faint buzzing at the back of their mind. Those who went to where it once stood saw nothing but a vacant lot. The town's name and the names of its populace disappeared from records. Those who had family in the town forgot them, growing curious as to the strangers in their photos, and tossing them out, finding them unpleasant.
Within that town, a man resisted. The Crimson Lady failed and the world she had created dissolved. It was a disappointment.
But, it did produce a chance. A chance to roam. A chance to take the gift somewhere else.
A being emerged from the shimmer in reality that had once been a town. This shade saw the bleak world around her and felt great loss. Her? Yes, she had been a woman once, long ago. Between then and now she'd been something more. She had tangled with gods, pulled out the true desires of mortals, and came close to the pure ascendance. Now, she would never have that chance. She could feel herself slipping.
Anger. Anger and regret of the world she could have built. Ruined by her lingering humanity. Ruined by the girl who had been called Amanda, a pathetic scrawny thing. But she did not have time to mourn. She had a gift to give. A small vial in her hand, the last of the precious fluid that had so radically changed her life. But she had been the wrong choice. In the end, she'd proved too weak and too reckless. She must make a better choice than her predecessor.
The world and all its people sprawled out before her. She reached out, searching through millions of souls.
She found someone. Someone perfect. The Crimson Lady smiled.
Lucy scattered rose petals on the bed. The house smelled of lavender and rose. And it damn well better, she thought. She'd spent the whole day cleaning, scouring out the insistent dust and grime that pervaded their home. She finished the artful decoration of the bed and went to check herself in the mirror. For the moment, she wore a robe, hiding the surprise underneath. It fit as best it could and David never really noticed her outfits anyway, always more interested in getting them off of her than seeing her in them. Just to be sure, she pulled open the robe and turned from side to side in front of the mirror. The red lace clung to her in all the spots it should. Her breasts looked much bigger in the outfit, but she still frowned at them. Letting the robe drape off her, falling around her wrists, she craned her neck to see her ass. She arched her back, sticking her butt out at an extreme angle to create the illusion of curvature, but that barely helped. Flatter than she always dreamed, but David never seemed to mind.
Pulling her robe back up, she padded softly into the den, checking the roast in the crock pot. The smell fought against the aromatics in the air creating a rather unpleasant mixture. 5:40, David would be home soon. Whatever he thought, Lucy was pleased with herself. They never did anything for Valentine's Day. When they started dating, back in high school, he'd done sweet things like making her cards and getting her candy, but that stopped. It was a mutual decision at first. She found it relieving to not have holiday after holiday where she thought up some gift for him. He felt the same. But over time, Lucy felt that practical arrangement had devolved into a rather lazy relationship. She found herself hoping that David was keeping secret gifts for her, only to be disappointed when nothing came. He was busy after all.
So, she decided to break the cycle. They were far too young to be in ruts, she thought. They'd married right out of high school against her father's wishes. But he'd done the same, marrying her mother at twenty with Lucy herself coming along when her parents were only twenty one. Lucy had no intention of following that path exactly, not wanting children until her thirties if at all, but still it gave her parents no room to judge. It hadn't been a surprise to her or David, but it had shocked their friends and family. The couple had already spent months talking about it. Lucy and David were watching all their friends grow up and move on with their lives. The ones that weren't engaged had gone off to college, leaving the podunk Small Creek behind. Everyone they knew fell into two categories, first those wanting to get the hell out of Small Creek and the South in general at any cost. And then second, those who were putting down roots as fast as they could. David and Lucy didn't want to be part of either group, but found themselves forced to choose. With no options for the former, they chose the latter and got hitched.
The first two years of marriage had been wonderful. David still had the energy of a teenager, coming home each night ready to snap up his wife. Lucy had fallen right into the housewife role, spending her days cleaning, shopping, or cooking. In that first year, she'd cooked everything she knew how and learned a hundred other recipes just to fill out the weeks. David went to work for his father, which was pretty much the only thing that David ever thought he'd do. He didn't mind the work as he'd grown up around it. Lucy didn't exactly know what he did throughout the day. He worked in timber, though she didn't think he'd ever cut down a tree. Management, he would tell her before launching into a long explanation of payroll and health insurance and this and that. None of it interested her, and David never seemed too interested in talking about it, so they both left well enough alone. Maybe that's where things started going wrong.
They lost interest in one another. Lucy's mother told her that it was a common symptom of marrying young. She said that it took time to understand your husband and that interest could drift in and out, especially for the men. That never sounded right to Lucy, but it put a new worry in her head. If she wasn't interesting to her husband, then who was. The decline started about six months ago. David no longer came home with a spry step and eager hands. He came home tired. His brother had started to pile more responsibility on him and it wore at him, Lucy knew. For a while, she worked hard to keep his spirits up, but he drained her spirit instead. She stopped cooking anything from scratch, relying on frozen dinners and take out. The house fell into disarray as well with laundry going unwashed and floors unswept. All the while, the only alarm in Lucy's head told her that it was too soon. Not that it shouldn't happen or that it wouldn't eventually, but that it had happened when they were too young.
She went to the blinds and looked out at the driveway. No sign of David yet. No sign of anything, really. Their closest neighbor was a five minute drive. She'd never appreciated how isolated their little town was until they moved in to their own house. Growing up, she'd always been around someone. Or at least, in the few times that she was totally alone, she was so thankful for the respite that she didn't notice the emptiness around her. Living with David had shown her that emptiness in an ugly light. She listened to too many true crime stories and watched too many scary movies to live in such isolation. It was too easy to imagine masked men loitering in the woods outside of her house.
Wait. What was that? Something at the edge of the yard. Something red.
The quick flutter in her chest made her feel foolish. Only imagination, she reminded herself.
I'm nervous and seeing things, that's all.
The bright flash of headlights interrupted her thoughts. A new flush of nerves flowed through her as David rattled down their long driveway in his beat up truck. Lucy ran to the hallway mirror to check herself one last time, tossing the robe aside in the process. Her short, bob haircut of dirty blonde looked messier than she'd liked, but she couldn't do much for it now. Her petite frame made her screw her lips up in a contemplative, dissatisfied twist. She tried not to look at the small pudge forming above her panty line. She pulled her underwear a little tighter and went to the bedroom.
Pausing for a moment to decide how best to display herself, she crawled onto the bed, reclined on the pillows and let her legs spread out. One thing she knew would get her husband going was the sight of her open and inviting, with the added benefit of downplaying her flat butt and small breasts. Lucy found herself surprisingly excited. Listening carefully for the telltale sounds of the truck door slam and the rattle of the front door, she allowed her hand to slip down her stomach and under the waistband. She'd trimmed herself down to a small tuft of hair above her pussy. David never said he had a preference, but she liked to keep it neat just in case he decided to go down on her. Not that she would need it tonight, apparently. Her fingers found soaking lips and teased at the idea of pushing inside her. Her other hand moved up and squeezed her breast.
Would David like it if I'm in here getting myself off when he comes in?
