A battle that has been brewing for years finally comes to and end.
The shadows of pine trees reached across the snow for a wooden door in the centre of the glen. My breathing was labored as I dragged a gigantic match into the glen. As I reached the door’s wooden frame, I dropped my burden in the snow and hoped for a miracle.
Someone knocked from the other side of the door.
My terrified voice caught in my throat as I froze. I scrambled to raise the match and drag the head against the door. The friction ignited that red flesh. The door opened before I could burn it down. The heat caused the door to open before any damaged was done.
A dark witch, with unblinking eyes, reached into my world.
I brandished my flaming match like a knight in a sword fight. The hissing witch was forced back with another swing of my wooden sword. The match’s fire blinded her. As she made an animal like instinctual attempted to throw herself forward, I kicked the door closed.
I heard the witch violently breaking the lock.
I pressed the match to the door.
The wood caught fire and I could hear the witch angrily screaming. The fire burned my creamy gloves and I dropped the match. The blanket of snow put out its fire.
I knelt and cradling the dead match. I was relieved my home was safe, but I felt oddly empty. As the door burned behind me, I stared at the match’s black head and waited to feel victorious.
Disclaimer: The story is not based on any real persons or events. It is purely for your entertainment.