Élise woke up in the darkness of her flat. The sound of the wind rushing through the broken windows, a cold wind that makes her arms tingle. All around her is silent. No more church bells, no more traffic noise. The old world is gone, swept away in the torments of an epidemic that has swept across the nations. The streets, once full of life, are now urban deserts, overgrown with vegetation. Tall grass is growing through the concrete, and trees have begun to take root where cars once drove.
The memory of his old life, of stressful days at the office, of going out with friends, of the carefree days before the apocalypse, briefly invades him. But these memories are already distant, almost unreal. The world has changed. Humanity, once proud and arrogant, has been reduced to a handful of survivors, wandering among the ruins.
Élise sighed, glancing at her reflection in a broken mirror. Her features are tired, marked by suffering and the time that seems to have stretched on since the end of everything. She has learnt to fight for every morsel of food, every drop of water, every breath of fresh air.
She struggled to her feet, her joints creaking from the effort. She takes one last look inside her devastated flat. It had been her refuge for several months, but she knew it was no longer safe. Every day, new dangers appear. Gangs are fighting over resources, and it's getting harder and harder to trust anyone.
She grabs her rucksack, stuffing in a few essentials: an old canteen of water, some hard bread, a dull knife. She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes for a moment, then wanders out into the street. The town seemed dead, frozen in time. All around her, ruined buildings bear witness to past battles, graffiti of survival mark the walls.
She heads for the black market, a place where the exchange of goods is often done under tension. The survivors, exhausted and distrustful, gather there every day to negotiate. Rare items of value are exchanged, but the priority remains food and medicine. Élise knows this market like the back of her hand. It's a place where you can't trust anyone, but sometimes it's the only way to get what you need to survive.
In the crowd, faces are closed, eyes full of pain, sadness and fear. Vital elements in a world where everything has disappeared. The market is a place of negotiation, but also of danger, and Élise moves forward cautiously, looking for reliable sellers.
At the corner of a stand, she saw him: a man who stood out from the rest. Julien. Élise has met him several times before, but he was a ghost before. A soldier, cold and distant. In this devastated world, soldiers are spectres from the past, a class of people who have disappeared, but Julien remains. His piercing eyes and visible scars speak volumes about the hardships he has endured.
He stands there, leaning against an old brick wall, arms folded, watching the crowd with palpable suspicion. When their eyes meet, Élise shivers. There's something intense in his gaze, like a hidden storm ready to erupt. But what strikes Élise most is the pain emanating from him. He's not just a soldier, he's a broken man, scarred by war and loss.
He notices her too, a flash of recognition in his eyes. A fleeting memory crosses his mind. They know each other, but from where? Memories of before the apocalypse have faded for Élise, but something about him seems familiar. A brief encounter, an evening before the end of the world? She doesn't know any more.
"You're still alive," says Julien in a husky, almost surprised voice.
Élise nodded, her gaze darting. "For the moment," she replied, her voice betraying a hint of sarcasm. But her heart is racing. She feels a strange thrill of closeness. They know each other, but not in this world. It's not the same time, not the same reality.
They exchange a few words, but the conversation remains superficial, just a mutual recognition. Julien offers to help her, to give her information about a safe place, a wasteland where survivors are gathering. Surprisingly, she hesitates. The man doesn't seem dangerous, but in this world, appearances are often deceiving.
As Élise prepared to leave, Julien stopped her with one hand, as if he wanted to say something more. A moment suspended in the air. She turns to him, feeling his gaze on her.
"You know, we could work together. Maybe we can protect each other."
She frowns, wary. But at the same time, she feels a strange feeling, something she hasn't experienced in months: trust. Maybe it's instinct talking, or maybe she's just tired of carrying everything alone. She answers him, a little softer than she'd like.
"Maybe."
Their gazes lock for a moment longer than expected. A connection, fragile, but real. Élise feels vulnerable, but in a way she hasn't in a long time. It's as if, in this broken world, there's a possibility of rebuilding something, even a little.
Just as Élise is about to leave, a thud is heard at the entrance to the market. Armed men appear, threatening, drawing the attention of all the survivors around them. Julien instinctively stands in front of Élise, protecting her without thinking. She looked at him, her heart beating faster. She has a moment of doubt. Was her decision to trust him the right one?
The scene ends with an explosion of noise, Julien's eyes fixed on her. "Be careful," he whispers before they are enveloped by the chaos.