Preternatural

She sat at her vanity, smearing her lips with the color of blood. Soon her hands would be equally imbued as she heard the summoning cry of a lost boy. A single word manifested itself before her. 

“Fame”, it read.

She swayed her hand across the looking glass, plucking each letter like petals off a rose and searing them into a piece of paper. The delicate parchment was folded neatly and consumed, thus sealing the contract.

Time elapsed and the boy grew into a man.

In fleeting moments, she watched him, witnessed his name upon the tongues of thousands. Crowds roared to see him; he was the source of their unyielding adoration. He was beautiful, a priceless treasure, and as the sea, they would part to behold his resplendence.

The world was his stage; she had made it possible.

In closed quarters he was a whisper of a thrill. In front of the world, he was rapture. His riches, measured in love, would leave him exceptionally wealthy. His love, measured in currency, would leave him abundantly cherished.

He had done more than he ever hoped to accomplish in his long and fruitful career. But in his old age, he realized this could not last forever and fell into desperation.

He wanted to be immortalized in the hearts and minds of his fans. He wanted to transcend, as did many others that sought her out. But nothing in this world is permanent and everything comes with a price.

The contract was spent.

Rising from her seat, it was time to collect.  

Gliding through the realms, she knew exactly where the lost boy would be. Her crimson heels echoed upon the hardwood floors of his lavish estate. In his bedroom, she found him sitting in front of his own vanity.

“Has it been that long?” he breathed softly when he saw her.

“An entire lifetime,” she responded.

“You haven’t aged one bit.”  There was a begrudged pause that filled the room. “Hey Miss Murder, can I make beauty stay if I take my life?”

“Your life is not yours to take anymore.”

He would not meet her eyes. His chiseled chin no longer stood firm and pointed proud. His dark hair concealed his face instead of revealing it.  His chest tightened, greedily clinging to every breath. Now his shoulders sank with realization and his eyes filled with grey.  

“It is yours,” he remembered. “ I promised you my heart.”

“And I promised to keep it.”

He closed his eyes in acceptance. With a feather touch, he left the world behind.