Elphaba got to her feet and surveyed her new surroundings. The twister had swept her up mere seconds before she managed to squash that little brat Dorothy with her perky breasts and howling little mutt. How unfortunate! How ill-timed and unfair!
The witch felt the old rage. When had things ever been fair for her? From the first moment she had been born cursed. Her mother and father had been horrified by the wretched color of their infant daughter's skin. Her mother had tried at first to fix Elphaba's affliction. There had been pills and creams and far more painful remedies. When her skin refused to respond to all treatments, her mother withdrew from her and turned her all her affections on her fair-skinned daughter. Under the cone of her parents' obvious disdain she had grown up isolated with only the volumes of books in her family's library for company. Elphaba had read and re-read all the epic stories about heroes and villains. Alone in the dark, she had wondered which she was.
In the early days, the school boys had been fascinated by Elphaba. She was smarter, faster and more skilled than any of them. Later, her emerald skin and thick dark hair set her apart from all the other girls, giving her an exotic appeal for those growing male appetites. Overtime however, the cruelty of youth took over and the fascination soured into revulsion. Then there was that incident at boarding school. Elphaba had only been defending herself but in the end, none of that had mattered. Oz, in all its wonder, was an oddly unforgiving place. No matter. She was who she was. Green...and wicked.
Truth be told, Elphaba she knew wasn’t half bad looking under all that black and green. Her skin was still tight and firm and her figure was lush. Most importantly she was brilliant, far more so than that sparkly, vapid Glinda! All the same, these days there weren't too many suitors ready to woo her emerald-colored visage no matter how pretty her dark eyes or how ruby red her lips.
How did they not expect her to go mad with the constant rejection? Sitting all alone in her tower with nothing to keep her company other than a legion of chattering, filthy flying monkeys? Elphaba was angry. She was lonely. She had just been about to take all that anger out on that loathsome little teenager when the black twister tore loose from the skies and sucked the witch into its whirling, keening vortex.
Elphaba looked around. The twister had deposited her in a park of sorts. There was a pond and a wide expense of open ground fenced by trees. Beyond the tree line was a village of modest little dwellings. The doors to those dwellings all seemed to open at the same time spilling out a number of strange beasts and beings who joined up in loud, little groups at the edge of the park. The witch ducked behind a large bush. This wasn’t Oz, one couldn’t be too careful!
Too late! She had been spotted by a grotesque little demon. It rushed over to her with stunted, ugly feet. It called out to her and she was startled to find she understood it.
“Hey lady! Hot costume!,” the little monster flashed some unremarkable teeth in her direction before sauntering off into the night.
“Hot?” Elphaba wasn’t even warm. In fact, the climate here was refreshing and almost chilly.
She took a few steps closer to the tree line, feeling emboldened by a stiff breeze that lifted her full shirts a few inches, tickling her bare knees. She crossed a wide, flat black river that felt as hard as rock under her heels. The witch approached the closest of the dwellings. A fat, glowing pumpkin sat grinning at her from the stoop. There was a thumping sound coming from inside the house and she could make out shadows moving around inside behind panes of glass.
The witch drew back, preparing to flee into the night when a door to her left flew open.
“Hi there. Great Costume! Come on in.” A large man dressed in red and yellow rubber ushered her inside by her elbow. The sudden contact sent shivers radiating down her spine.
Inside the place was dimly lit and smelled unfamiliar but not unpleasant. She flicked her tongue, tasting something sweet in the air about her. There were creatures in here too, bigger ones. Elphaba gazed into a sea of moving bodies swaying against each other. She suddenly felt very warm indeed.
“That really is an amazing costume,” the man in red rubber was speaking to her.
The witch turned to look at him. He was broad and dark, bare-chested under his bizarre suit. He shifted uncomfortably under her stark gaze. Ephaba leaned forward and sniffed. He smelled slightly rotten, like fermented fruit. He swayed a bit, unsteady on his feet.
“Fireman, " he said, somewhat embarrassed.
"I know....not much of a stretch.” He shrugged.
Elphaba continued to stare. Suddenly the man reached out and touched her face.
“How long did that take? All that green? It’s really amazing.”
The man's eyes sparkled with that old, familiar fascination Elphaba remembered from long ago. The witch realized two things simultaneously; first, the man thought her skin was amazing and second, this man, this large and very fit man, had touched her.
Elphaba was suddenly, almost painfully aware of a burning need to be touched more. She stepped closer, ran her nails down his smooth flesh. She parted her full red lips and smiled. It was all the invitation the Fireman needed. He pulled the witch down the hall and whisked her inside a small dark room, closing the door behind them.
He wasted no time working his hands under her robes, parting the cloth to expose more of her green flesh. He moaned when she wantonly grabbed onto him, pressing herself against him. Elphaba bit back a raucous cackle. The fireman's hands entwined in her long tresses. He pulled her hair back and kissed her neck, her earlobe and at long last, her mouth.
Elphaba was overcome with a new sensation, a hot white heat exploded inside her and at last she did cackle, wildly and with great pleasure. The fireman collapsed against her briefly before falling to the floor in a heap. The witch smiled down at him, warmly and with a rare gratitude. She smiled as the green began to creep into his features and flow across his skin, staining it. His look of bliss abruptly changed to one of alarm as he too began to notice the change.
"What's happening..." his voice trailed off as his pupils turned into ebony pools, then dimmed.
The witch leaned down and kissed his emerald-colored lips. Sadly, she thought, he did not look as attractive as he had moments ago.
“Perhaps green just isn’t everyone’s color....” she thought, and started off into the night.