Élise
I walked side by side with Damien, but the silence between us was heavy, like a burden we carried without speaking. We passed deserted streets, where the cobblestones seemed to recognize our steps without ever judging us. We were not alone, but the city around us seemed to belong to another world, frozen in a twilight light. I felt something invisible watching us, but I couldn't determine if it was the city itself or Damien's past that was stalking us.
Soon, we arrived in front of an old wooden door, grey and worn by the years. A simple awning barely sheltered it, hardly able to protect the walls from the pouring rain. Damien placed a hand on the handle, hesitating for a moment, then slowly turned it. He looked at me, his gaze darker than ever.
"This is not a place for the curious, Élise," he said in a low, grave voice. "You don't have to come, you know. You're not ready."
I stopped for a moment, my heart beating louder than usual. There was something in his voice, a note of caution, but also an invitation to cross a line I wasn't sure I wanted to cross. A shiver ran through me, but an irrepressible urge pushed me forward. This voice, warning me, was not that of a man trying to protect me. It was that of a man testing me.
"I'm ready," I replied firmly, though my mind was filled with doubts. "I want to see."
Damien nodded, a barely perceptible smile on his lips. He pushed open the door and led us into a dark, almost austere room. The interior smelled of dampness, and the air was heavy with dust and ancient secrets. Wooden shelves held various objects and books with worn covers, while a table at the center seemed to be the heart of the place. Around us, paintings were hung on the walls—portraits, scenes frozen in time, but strangely animated by a force that felt almost supernatural.
I approached a particular painting. It was a dark, almost disturbing work. A woman, her eyes hollow, was drawn in deep black, her face barely lit by a cold light. She seemed to have been captured in a moment of pain. My face froze as I observed the details—the shadows on her face, the frozen expression that almost seemed to accuse me. It was as if this painting had called to me, drawn me into its cold embrace, ready to reveal secrets long buried.
"Who is she?" I asked, my voice trembling despite myself.
Damien approached, gently placing a hand on my shoulder. "She's part of my past, Élise. A part I left behind. But she's not as dead as I wish she were."
I looked at him, both intrigued and terrified. "Why show me this?"
He stared at me, his gaze filled with contained pain, before answering in a low voice: "Because you need to understand. You want to know what's in my world, but you have no idea what that entails. This painting... it's what I was. It's what I lost."
I turned away from the painting, my throat tight with the intensity of his words. It felt as though every word he spoke hit me with raw force. Damien, this mysterious man, always so distant, was now becoming more real, more human. I saw him for who he really was, with his flaws and wounds, and it made me want to understand. But at what cost?
"And now?" I asked, my eyes searching his in the near-total darkness. "What do you want from me?"
Damien approached slowly, his gaze growing more piercing. He took a deep breath, as if preparing to reveal a truth he wasn't sure he wanted to share. "I want you to understand why I do what I do. Why I brought you here, why I let you step into my world. Because, deep down, Élise, there's no turning back. Once you've seen what I have to show you, there's no room for ignorance. What I've done, what I continue to do, it's more than choices. It's a necessity."
I shivered at his words. "You want to bind me to you, don't you? Make me complicit in what's hidden in the shadows of your life?"
Damien stared at me intensely, without answering immediately. "It's not about complicity. It's about survival. If you want to live, Élise, if you want to get out of your past, you have to accept looking at what you fear the most. You have the eyes to see what's hidden, but are you ready to face the truth, even if it's devastating?"
He stepped back, as if the weight of his words was too heavy to bear at that moment. "I brought you here for a reason. If you choose to continue, there's no turning back."
I stood there, frozen, caught between fear and curiosity, between the will to move forward and the fear of what I would discover. I felt like I was on the edge of a cliff, and every decision I made from now on would send me tumbling into the unknown. But I had no intention of turning back. Not this time.
"I want to know, Damien," I said in a calm but determined voice. "I'm ready."
In the silence that followed, he gave me a faint smile, almost imperceptible. Then, with a slow gesture, he turned a key hidden in a drawer of the desk. A muffled sound echoed, like a door opening in the darkness.
"Then, come," he said. "The journey is just beginning."
And I, my heart pounding, crossed a new threshold into this dark and mysterious world. A world where love and pain intertwine.