Tanny of the Flame

January 1923

Tanwen, called ‘Tanny’ by her parents, known around town as the little match girl, was eleven years old. Her hair was the embodiment of darkness, seeming to suck all of the light from around her head into the tangle of curls. Her skin was as white as the snow that was dusted across the deteriorated quilt she huddled under. Her slumber was restless, and she tossed and turned on the straw beneath her.

The glaring sun peeked from behind a dark puff of clouds, alighting upon Tanwen’s cold, reddened cheek, and her eyes blinked open, her coal black eyes scanning the tiny hovel.

Tanwen’s father glanced over, saw that she was awake, and strode across the small room in two quick strides. He glared down at her, shaking with anger.

“You will not come back here before you have sold all of the matchsticks today. If you do, I will lock you in the coop, with no food, no water, no blanket. Do you understand?”

Anger flared inside of Tanwen’s chest. She felt the palms of her hands begin to burn. She glanced down at them hidden under the quilt and saw that they were glowing like coals. A tiny gasp escaped her mouth at what she saw. She composed herself quickly and stared up at her father.

“Are you deaf? Answer my question now, you stupid girl. Sell every last matchstick or don’t come back. Do you understand me?” he bellowed.

Tanwen gaped up at him, still half asleep, and nodded her head, jet black curls bobbing around her head. “Yes, sir. I understand.”

“Good,” her father replied, grinning with teeth blackened with rot. “Off with you now! There is nothing to eat this morn. And that is because you did not sell your matchsticks yesterday!”

Tanwen’s father grabbed her by the collar of her threadbare coat (she never removed her clothing this time of year, not even to sleep, lest she freeze to death) and threw her from the little straw bed. She stumbled, sucking in a sharp breath through her teeth as her feet touched the ice cold of the frosty dirt-covered floor.

She dashed to the rickety chair in the corner of the room before her father could swat at her and began stuffing her numb feet into her boots and lacing them tight. Her father glared at her with menace, and when she finally stumbled out of the door into the snow, he yelled at the top of his lungs, voice cracking with strain. “Every last matchstick! Or a freezing death in the coop for you, girl!”

*

Tanwen scurried around the legs of distinguished gentlemen and ladies that were hurrying along the street on their way home after a long day. The sun was beginning to set, and her teeth began to chatter and her knees to shake. She still had more than twenty matches to sell before she could return home and seek shelter from the cold. If she went home with any matchsticks left, her father would beat her and lock her in the coop with the chickens. At least the chickens were warm she thought. But no, she could stand the cold a bit longer and sell her remaining matchsticks. Then she would get a straw bed by the fire and a bowl of warm broth. Yes, she could hold out a bit longer.

A man in brown tweed trousers, and a heavy woolen coat bumped into her as he rushed by, and Tanwen fell into a puddle full of dirty slush. Her back side went numb from cold and she heaved herself up slowly, tears stinging her eyes.

A short, squat man made eye contact with her and quickly looked away, breaking into an awkward trot, slipping and sliding on the cobblestones. Tanwen ran after the man, she thought she could catch him. The wind blowing against her cheeks made them sting and ache, but she only ran faster. She caught up to the man, grabbed the lapels of his coat, and tugged.

“Excuse me mister? Wouldn’t you love to have a nice cigar after a long day? I have matches here… a penny each,” Tanwen said, smiling as much as she could bear. Her face was now quite numb, and she wasn’t sure if she was even smiling. She could imagine that it probably looked more like a grimace. She reached a small hand upward toward the man, clutching a matchstick in blackened, frostbit fingers.

“You fool of a child!” the man said jerking his hand back with a look of disgust on his face. “The weather is atrocious! Why would I want to smoke a cigar in this freezing hell!”

The man turned sharply on his heel, pulling his fur lined collar up around his ears, and stomped off down the street, shooting one last look of revulsion at Tanwen.

Tears flowed down Tanwen’s cheeks, stinging her chapped skin. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself as she ambled into a dark alley. She found a spot of light on the ground, spilling out from an immense window. Tanwen slumped against the freezing stone wall and slid to the ground. She hugged her knees to her chest, teeth chattering, the tears now frozen slivers on her cheeks, and stared into the window filled with light.

A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting glittering flashes of rainbow over an oak dining table that was surrounded by well-dressed people. All of them smiling and laughing. A large golden turkey lay on a silver platter in the middle of the table, juice glistening as it ran down the breasts and pooled. Huge bowls piled with fluffy mashed potatoes coated with bright yellow butter. Peas, gravy, corn, green beans, big juicy tomatoes, and pies. All kinds of pies. Tanwen imagined the different types of pies. Apple, Cherry, Blueberry, Rhubarb, Sweet Potato, Pumpkin, Lemon. Her mouth watered and her stomach growled. A gnawing feeling started in her stomach, and she retched. She was so hungry.

And she was cold. So cold. She had about twenty matches left, maybe she could keep herself warm enough through the night. She couldn’t go home. Father would beat her and lock her in the coop. She didn’t think she had the energy to even make it home if she tried. She was so hungry, and tired, and cold.

Tanwen lit the first match on her striking strip, the flame flaring bright and then settling into a tiny bud. She cupped her hands around the little flame. As the little flame burned down the stick, feeling returned to her fingers and they began to ache. She gasped when the flame burned down to her thumb and forefinger and went out.

Tanwen pulled out another match and struck it, holding the little flame close to her icy nose. The sun was gone now, and complete darkness had set in. She couldn’t have believed it possible, but it had gotten colder. Considerably colder. She continued lighting her little matchsticks and praying for daylight.

After she lit the last matchstick, Tanwen began to shake. She had no control over her body and the shivers were so violent that she knocked the back of her head against the wall behind her. She clutched her knees tight to her chest, gritted her teeth, in an attempt to stop the shaking, and rolled onto her side in a heap of snow.

She had a perfect view of the people through the window, and she watched with greed lacing her eyes. It wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t she be in there? They had so much food and heat. She only needed a little. She saw a man walk into the room, and a woman in a gold flowing dress stood and hugged him. He removed his hat and headed toward the table. It was the short man that had yelled at her and called her a fool. The sight of him made her angry.

The shaking in her body stopped and her breathing came in shallow little puffs, her heart stuttering and flipping in her chest. She couldn’t move, but still she felt that anger inside of her burning. The palms of her hands began to burn and when she looked, they were glowing like they had that morning.

Her heart stopped for a few seconds, then stuttered back and the embers below her skin died. She stared at the crystal chandelier through the giant window. Her heart gave one last glorious pound as the vision of the chandelier blurred and became one large ball of white light. Tanwen felt herself leaving her cold body. Felt herself as she floated toward the window and then through it and she wrapped her essence into the warm luminescence of the chandelier.

Tanwen glanced out of the window, this time on the inside looking at her lifeless, crumpled body lying in the snow. Her dark eyes were open and staring right at the chandelier, right where her soul now presided.

Tanwen touched the chandelier, and her hand went through the crystals. She felt the anger brewing up inside of her. She reached out again, and her hand looked almost solid now. She touched the hanging crystal and it moved, swung outward.

The short man glanced up at the chandelier for a moment and then shook his head, picking up his fork and continuing to eat.

Tanwen smiled a delicious, menacing smile and moved in an invisible, slithering dance toward the mean little man.

She cooled the embers that she had ignited with ease, and slipped through the top of the table to where she was positioned underneath the table in front of the man.

“Rupert, you must tell us… how do you always know the right stocks to invest in?” a man at the other side of the table asked.

The man (Rupert she now knew) shuffled his feet under the table, sitting up straighter and tittered. “I cannot be giving up my secrets, Oliver. Or I would no longer be the richest man in town.” He bellowed, slapping his knee under the table.

Before Rupert could bring his hand back up, Tanwen called on that rage inside of her, and her hands turned a deep red. She reached out and grabbed the man’s hand, digging her nails in. He yelped, and tried to yank his hand back, to no avail. He stood up, knocking the table with his thighs, causing the dishes to rattle and clink.

The other guests screamed in surprise and confusion, jumping up to get away from Rupert as he wailed and thrashed. Tanwen inched forward and crawled out from under the table on her stomach, movements like smoke, still clutching Rupert’s hand. Screams reverberated around the room, now blood-curdling, panicked. She turned her head and looked behind her, made eye contact with the other people in the room. Every person’s eyes that she met, flinched, a new fear exploding on their faces. They could see her, she thought. A low laugh rose from her throat and she turned back to Rupert. She could hear frantic footsteps and shrieks as the three other diners, a woman and two men, tried to run from the house.

Tanwen turned and a shriek of rage erupted from her mouth, shattering the crystal chandelier in its loudness. The woman in her sparkly golden dress fell to the floor, clutching her head in her hands. Tanwen screamed louder and the two men fell to their knees beside the woman.

Tanwen watched as the woman’s skin began to glow. Sparks flew out on her breath as she opened her mouth and screeched. Her skin split, and steaming liquid burst from the cracks. Tanwen saw blood spray outward as the woman exploded from the inside, but it evaporated in the heat before it had a chance to splatter.

Tanwen rose from the ground like liquid, flowing and graceful, and grabbed Rupert’s other hand. He was no longer trying to get away, but his whole body shook. Shook like she had out there in the snow.

Tanwen heard two other loud pops and then sizzling and knew that the men were now gone like the sparkling woman.

“Do you remember me?” Tanwen asked, pulling him down to her level, he fell to his knees. She was strong. Another wicked smile crossed her face.

“N-no. I’m sorry, but I d-don’t b-believe I do,” Rupert stammered. His eyeballs protruded in horror, and he bit his bottom lip, until the blood ran down his chin.

Tanwen’s eyes were now entirely black, the white disappeared. Her whole body glowed a red so dark, it seemed almost black. Spots of orange flickered in waves down her arms.

She hissed in anger, “You saw me just a few hours ago. You don’t remember me?”

Rupert said nothing, didn’t move, but for the fear quivering over his body.

Tanwen let go of his hands and put her hands on either side of Rupert’s face. He screamed and tried to back away. She forced his head to the right, so that he could see out of the window.

“I am there.” She pointed to the heap of snow outside.

“I d-don’t see anything.”

“Go closer,” Tanwen said letting go of Rupert’s head.

Rupert stayed on his knees in the floor, staring out of the window.

“Now,” Tanwen growled.

Rupert attempted to get up but crumpled back to the floor. Tanwen stared at him, saying nothing.

He tried again, this time succeeding, but barely, and lurched over to the window, almost falling before grabbing the windowsill. He cupped his hands against the glass and peered out into the night. Tanwen knew when he saw her body because he jerked backward and stumbled away from the window.

Tanwen glided toward him, until she was at his back. When he felt the warmth radiating against him, Rupert turned and screamed as she extended one small hand, no longer black with frostbite, but red with fire. She grabbed his forearm and flame hurried up his arm, his neck, his face, then moved downward to his chest.

Tanwen focused on the flame burning Rupert’s chest and it burned white, hotter. A hole opened, straight through the sternum. The meat inside was black and charred, smoking. His heart was still burning, soft yellow fire licking the glistening flesh, flickering in the reflective ribs. Tanwen saw it all in slow-motion, in vivid color. She reached her hand inside of Rupert’s chest and plucked his heart out, like an apple from a tree. The arteries connected to the heart cracked and splintered like the limbs of a tree, crumbling to ash as she pulled. Rupert’s body fell to the floor like a discarded wooden puppet.

Tanwen held Rupert’s heart in her hand. It was warm, and smelled delicious and she was so hungry. She brought the heart to her lips and bit with her teeth, ripping into the meat. She chewed and swallowed, but her stomach still felt hollow. She continued to take great hulking bites, chewing maniacally and gulping the meat down her throat until she had eaten his entire heart. She licked her fingers, relishing the taste.

Her stomach still grumbled. The pain almost unbearable. She was so hungry. She needed more.

Tanwen strode through the house, lit with all of the beautiful lights, candles placed on all of the tables, looking for the front door. She moved around a corner into the foyer. The floor was a deep mahogany, velvet maroon curtains cloaked the tall windows. The front door was black with a golden pattern twisting like vines to the molding.

Tanwen cooled her embers and glided toward the door. She was halfway through the door, thicker than most it seemed, when she seemed to hit a brick wall. She was still ravenous, but now all she could think of was the cold. She was freezing. It hurt, and she bit back a scream. She scrambled backward and fell back into the foyer.

Why couldn’t she go outside? She had come through the window with no issues.

She hurried back to the window where she had first entered the apartment. The pool of light from the dining room shone upon her dead body in the snow outside. She stepped through the window and followed the stream of light to her body. Strange, she thought.

At least now she was outside, no longer trapped. She started walking out of the alley, leaving her body behind. She raised her foot to step out of the ring of light spilling from the window and again felt something solid preventing her from moving forward. Coldness once again overtaking her body.

It was the light, she realized. She needed the light.

There was no light to be seen. Darkness shrouded the street in front of her.

She would have to wait until daylight.

She was going to go home and eat her parent’s hearts too. For all that they did to her, they deserved it.

*

Tanwen heard the birdsong and snapped out of her trance. Daylight was coming, and she could finally go home. To give her parents what they deserved.

She saw the sun beginning to poke over the mountaintop and her heart leapt with excitement. Almost time.

As the sun crested the top of the snow-covered mountain, Tanwen began to feel very tired. Her eyes drooped and she noticed the ground was moving. She was being drug back to her dead body by some invisible force.

No! she screamed in her head. She grasped at the cobblestones, but her hands were only mist, and she couldn’t get a grip on anything. She tried to call forth her embers, but they wouldn’t come.

She cried out in frustration as she neared her doll-like body. When she touched the very spot on the ground in the snow where she died, she remembered no more of the daylight. All was oblivion, until the sun set again.

*

Tanwen woke to full darkness. The lights in the large house in front of her were out now. Tanwen couldn’t move. She was stuck, no matter how hard she tried she could move nothing but her eyes. She glanced to where her body had lain in the snow and saw only a small indent there and a smattering of used matchsticks littering the ground.

The authorities had come, she thought. They had taken her body and the bodies inside of the apartment. What was left of them anyway. Then they had closed the entire street to the public. The grisly murders had shaken the community and fear abounded.

All that Tanwen felt as she sat there trapped was excruciating hunger and unbearable, biting cold. Her eyes darted around, searching for any sign of light.

She heard a scratching sound, the striking of a match, just outside of the alley entrance, and her eyes flicked to the right. She saw a man in a police hat huddled against the wind, trying to light a cigar. Tanwen registered the flicker of the small flame for a split second before the wind blew it out.

“Damn,” the policeman muttered and pulled another match from his pocket. He waited for a lull in the icy wind and then struck the match.

Tanwen leapt from the ground, and in no time at all she was in front of the man, reaching a hand toward the little flame on the matchstick.

When her skin made contact with the flame, the embers inside of her glowed. The match snuffed out as Tanwen materialized slowly in front of the unsuspecting man.

When he saw Tanwen standing there, with dead eyes, burning from the inside, he dropped the match and took a panic-stricken step back, slipping on the ice as he did. Surprise mixed with the terror on his face and his body flew backward, his head cracking on the street. His body twitched and blood leaked from the back of his head as he scooted backward, trying to get away from Tanwen. His mouth moved as if he were trying to speak, but no sound came out.

Tanwen lowered herself to the ground and began to crawl toward him. Her hands slipped in the blood from the man’s head, and it was warm. Still so warm, lying upon the freezing cobblestone. Steam rose from the blood, and Tanwen’s stomach roiled with need at the intoxicating smell.

So hungry.

She struck with her flaming hand, grabbing the man’s ankle and the man’s body was engulfed in white flame.

Tanwen crawled up the man’s body as he screamed, merging with the fire, feeling so cozy and warm. She clawed her way into the man’s chest carefully, making sure not to damage the heart. She reached inside and closed her hand around the still pulsing organ. Her mouth watered and the man’s eyes darted around in his head like a rabbit cornered by a hungry wolf. Full panic now overtaking him, his heart beat wildly in Tanwen’s hand.

Tanwen grinned, in anticipation of savoring the heart meat. She yanked, extracting the heart from the man’s chest. He made an oomph sound and slumped to the ground, body still burning.

She devoured the heart in seconds, licking her fingers and experiencing a moment of contentment. Then the cold came, and she felt an invisible hook at her navel, pulling her back, back to the alley. She spun around searching for light, any light. There was nothing. The fire beneath her skin began to cool, and her form was turning misty again.

Tanwen let out an anguished shriek as her body was pulled backward, and then she was once again huddled in the spot where she died, unable to move.

She would wait. Someone else would come.

December 2023

Izzy stumbled into a puddle, falling forward on her hands and knees.

“Dammit!” she hissed. “I can’t see shit, Em. Turn the fucking light on already. This is so stupid!”

Emma giggled behind her, snorting behind her hand. “I can’t. Tanny will come, and I’m not ready yet. I am so getting this shit on camera. Think of all the followers this could get us!”

Izzy stood, wiping her wet, scraped up hands on her jeans. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea. Like why haven’t they fixed this place up? This is crazy. Like, at least tear it down or something. It’s like everyone is seriously scared to come here. And those people in that podunk gas station down there were super fucking weird, Em. I don’t like this place.”

Emma laughed, and pointed at Izzy, accusing. “Ha! You’re scared! I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts!”

“Yeah, I don’t.” Izzy rolled her eyes. “But I totally have this creepy feeling. I don’t like it.”

“Just come on! I can’t believe we even found this place! Like, no one else knows about it at all. We got lucky,” Emma said, sidling up to Izzy’s side, and whispering in her ear. “Think of all the followers and subscribes we’ll get, Iz.”

Izzy threw her hands in the air. “Fuck it. Fine, let’s go.”

Izzy and Emma walked through the darkness, arms outstretched, hands feeling along the wet brick walls of the dilapidated old buildings.

“It should be the next alley,” Emma whispered to Izzy behind her.

They inched along, and finally Emma came to a break in the wall.

“It’s here,” she said with excitement in her voice.

Emma grabbed Izzy’s hand and walked into the dark alley. Their feet sank in snow up to their shins. Izzy stopped walking and Emma yanked on her hand.

“Come on!” She pulled and Izzy stumbled forward with a whimper.

“Okay, get your phone ready to record. I’ll do the match,” Emma instructed.

Izzy fumbled her phone from her back pocket, fingers shaking as she accessed the camera, the faint glow of the phone illuminating the sparkling snow in the alley.

Emma heard a scuffling noise behind her and whipped her head behind her, looking for the source of the sound. She saw nothing and turned back to look at Izzy, an uncomfortable giggle escaping her lips.

“Ready?” she mouthed to Izzy.

Izzy nodded and pressed record.

Emma took a match from the box in her hand, and struck it, holding it up in front of her face. She looked into the camera as she recited in a shaky voice:

“Tanny, Tanny come out and play.

We’re here to chase the cold away.

I light the flame to lead the way.

So, you can make them all pay.”

Emma snickered, and lifted her eyebrows to the camera, eyes widening, a smirk at the corner of her mouth.

Izzy’s mouth was open wide in horror as she stared behind Emma, where a glowing figure was emerging from the deep snow.

Emma continued smiling, as the flame of the match puffed out. She was still smiling when a hand of fire, poked through her chest, blood splattering all over Izzy.

Emma’s mouth made a perfect o, and her body fell to the ground, submerged in the snow.

Izzy screamed and backed out of the alley; her phone still pointed at the creature before her. A little girl, but not a little girl. She was made of fire and her eyes were solid black coal.

The monstrosity lifted Emma’s heart to her mouth and bit into it. Izzy turned and ran still clutching her phone in her hand. She had just left the alley when she felt a stinging at her back, and then something was on top of her, and she fell to the ground. She felt hot breath on her neck and then she felt as if she had been torn open. A quick pressure in her chest and then nothing.

Tanwen stood from Izzy’s body, clutching the girl’s heart in her hands.

Tanwen expected to be pulled once again to her dark crypt when she was done consuming the heart. But that didn’t happen this time.

Izzy’s phone lay by her body, still recording, light still illuminating the ground. Tanwen stooped to pick it up, turning it over and over in her hand in wonder. It was smooth, and it reflected the world around her like a mirror.

She held it in her hand and began to walk.

After walking for what seemed like hours to her, in her solid body, the cobblestone of the street ended and turned into a smooth blackness. Strange, Tanwen thought.

She squinted and saw strange tiny lights zipping along that smooth blackness. There were so many of them, and they flitted like fireflies. She looked beyond that, and saw great tall buildings so lit up, it seemed like daytime.

Tanwen grinned and hurried to the lights.