[Current Punishment: Fourth Matchstick Flame]
Asher opened his eyes, finding himself lying on the snowy ground. Powdered winter tickled his skin, chilling it until his skin turned red.
He glanced around him in amazement; he had never seen snow before.
[Objective: Follow the markers.]
He looked up as a pillar of light appeared in the distance. It seemed like that was the 'marker', so he made his way toward it.
People from all walks of life crowded the roads. A rich man and his wife meandered down the street, entering different shops as they pleased.
A poor beggar sat on a nearby bench, wrapped in multiple layers of blankets as numerous bystanders passed him.
Oddly enough, no one seemed to notice him at all. They all stared straight through him as if he wasn't there.
Soon he arrived at the beacon of light. It was attached to a little girl, even younger than he was. Her face was hidden in the folds of her white hood, and her tattered, dirty clothes invoked pity to anyone who bothered to look.
The girl stood outside the door, holding a bundle of matchsticks.
"Daddy? S-So I can come back home if I sell these matches?" Asher noticed she wasn't even wearing shoes; the girl shivered violently in the snow.
"Get the hell out!"
"Okay..." She walked away, shuffling along the frozen streets. The marker followed behind her.
"Hey, what's your name?" Asher walked along with the girl, wanting to help her.
But she kept her head low, not even sparing him a glance. Just like all the other people he saw on the street, she did not react to him at all.
He finally realized that it wasn't that they were ignoring him, it was that they couldn't even perceive him. The mission really was that simple: to follow the girl.
"Hey, mister! Buy a match, only one penny! It'll keep you warm!" She held out her bundle of matches to a nearby man. He took one look at her tattered clothes, scoffed, and walked away.
Asher watched for hours as the girl pitifully approached person after person, greeting them, only to be plainly rejected. Voices of unempathetic sympathy pushed her away. Their words were filled with disgust, hidden by a thin veneer of pity.
He watched in horror as her feet slowly turned blue and crimson, yet the girl didn't seem to notice.
Or care.
Soon, she could no longer feel her feet, let alone move them with any precision. She staggered drunkenly onto a bench where the blanketed beggar Asher saw earlier had sat. The man was gone now. He had run off to find a warmer place to sleep.
The girl held out her matches again, having not sold a single one. Her hands were covered in blood as the splinters from the roughly carved matchsticks dug into her skin.
"One match, only one penny!" Again, the people wandering the streets kept a wide berth from her.
More hours passed. The girl's body turned numb. Her toes were now more black that blue. She dragged herself to the alley, trying to find the warmth that eluded her.
"Daddy said I can't go home, but it's so cold outside..."
Filled with hesitation, she finally took out a match from the bundle.
Clumsily striking the match on the ground, the girl stared at the flame that burst out.
"Woah!" The girl recoiled backward as something strange occurred in her vision.
As the light fell upon the walls, they became transparent, like a thin veil. Peering through the invisible wall, she saw a room.
Asher could see it as well. The room had a glowing fireplace and a lavish dinner table adorned with expensive trinkets and candles.
On the table spread a snow-white cloth, and on top of it stood a magnificent feast. A roast goose steamed with delicate aroma, stuffed with fruits and vegetables.
"Looks delicious..." The girl could not help but salivate.
A door appeared in her vision, swinging open by itself. Was it inviting her inside?
But just as she was about to drag herself through the door, her vision turned dark, and the room vanished.
The match had burnt out.
The girl's discolored lips trembled. What a wonderful vision that was!
Asher didn't know how, but he also saw the hallucination that the girl experienced. Was it really an illusion if both of them could see it?
The girl's fingers trembled as she took out her second match, striking it on the wall.
As the warmth of the flame hit her again, she found herself lying on the floor of the room she saw last time. The aroma of roasted meat and the warmth of the fireplace next to her caused her to relax for the first time since...
She spread out on the ground, sighing in relief.
Asher stepped up to the table in the center of the room, attempting to touch the goose on the platter. But his hand phased through completely. The warmth and aroma of the room was real, though.
Or was it?
He couldn't tell anymore.
The match once again went out, shrouding the alley in darkness.
The girl glanced at her arms. They were becoming stiff. She could hardly move her limbs.
"Just... a few... more..." She took out another match, feebly scratching it on the floor.
*Skkk* Her weak attempt produced no sparks.
*Skkk* A small spark sputtered fragilely, then faded away.
"P-Please..."
Finally, the spark caught hold, bursting once again into warm flames. The girl held it close to her, reveling in its almost painful warmth. She looked up again.
"Mm!" Her breath escaped her. Words lost all meaning.
The girl found herself on a chair in front of the golden roast goose. Even Asher's mouth watered at the smell of the thing, and he didn't even like meat!
The goose carved itself, its meat falling off in neatly sliced chunks. A clear glass appeared by her plate, filled with sweet smelling cider. The girl drooled at the seductive sight.
"A-All for me??" She clasped her hand in a prayer. Wasn't this the work of God?
She opened her eyes.
This was Heaven.
With a frenzied twitch, she stabbed the goose in the chest, ignoring the neat slices to take out a chunk of flesh from the main body.
But as her fork neared her mouth, she found herself on the ground again.
Why?
She began to cry, her tears freezing on her cheeks.
Her body was curled up subconsciously, to hold any warmth it could find. The girl tried to stand up, but her legs wouldn't move anymore.
"Aaahh..." She tried to speak, but only a ragged breath escaped her mouth.
She hurriedly struck the fourth match on the floor, wishing to escape from the dreary reality and back into the warm room she was in.
A newfound determination flowed through her, causing the match to burst into flames.
She stared at the wall, but she couldn't see the room anymore. The girl sat there, dumbfounded, as she still sat on the cold ground.
How could the room disappear just like that? Impossible, it couldn't be!
She looked at the bundle of matches in her hand. A spark of desire flashed in her eyes.
If she lit all of them, how warm would the flames be? How spectacular of a feast would greet her?
Clumsily using the match to light the bundle, she watched in awe as all the other matches enthusiastically burst into flames.
But it was hot, so hot!
The ravenous flames singed her hand.
Her grip opened, causing the matches to fall onto her ragged dress.
Immediately, the flames caught on her clothes, licking the fabric with distorted desire.
She wanted light. She wanted to be warm.
Isn't this what she wanted?
"AAAHH!!" The matches burned into her flesh. She writhed in pain, trying to save herself, but the matches dug into her flesh too firmly.
'Room! There's no room!' She desperately jerked her head. Where was the heaven she was promised? The feast? The goose? The fireplace?
The... warmth?
Hundreds of flaring brands dug into her stomach. This was not the warmth she wished for.
The world played its cruel joke, destroying the last hope she had as the stars twinkled above.
Right, today was a holiday, a feast for the Birth. And their entertainment was this.
A bonfire that lit the sky.
"%!!$%!!!!"
The girl's mind was in a haze of pain.
She couldn't think straight.
All her mind knew was how cruel, how terrible the world was.
Asher stared in shock. He tried to take out the matches in the girl's body, but his hands phased straight through them, and the matches burned even more ferociously.
The girl's tortured screams echoed into the street, but no one came to help her. No one wanted to take on the trouble of saving her on a holiday when they could be celebrating.
Except for Asher. But what could he do to help her?
Soon, the surrounding snow had melted away; the girl became wreathed in flames. Her lungs gasped for air, but she only could only taste the coarse smoke from her own charred flash. Rasping voices screeched incoherently, weeping in agony.
The girl slowly stopped struggling, only muttering pitiful cries.
"S-Sor... ry... Mommy..."
Over the course of a few dozen minutes, the flame slowly smoldered away.
The girl was dead.
Her charred body laid despondently on the ground.
Asher closed his eyes, unwilling to further witness such a terrible sight, and awaited his return to the real world.
However, when he opened his eyes again, he didn't find himself back in the Backstreets.
The burnt girl's body shivered, and her body became smeared with unnaturally black, tar-like ash.
He felt numerous emotions from the corpse.
Pain, resentment, acceptance, and sadness all combined above her body in a medley of emotions.
Asher gaped in shock as tears of blood flowed from the girl's fluttering eyes.
Then, he was suddenly interrupted by the System.
[Analyzing completion...]
[Acceptable]
[Completion: S grade]
His vision dissolved into motes of light before he could see what happened next.