Info
In memory of our happy days.
Until memory do us part.
Author: CamaradeAlbabar
Translator: scutoid studios
Left, right right, left, at the very end of the tunnel there is the exit…
It's your fault he's dead, don't forget it.
Ambre? Ambre? Wake up dude, I got something to tell you, you're not gonna believe it.
The sensation of a touch woke him up suddenly from that recurring nightmare. It'd been a few months since he defied death by surviving that underground hell. In many ways, he never really got over it, having caught a disgusting sickness that just wouldn't leave him. As it were, he was for all intents and purposes tied to his bed, trapped in the medical wing of the M.E.G. base on Level 1.
Being in this state broke him to his innermost core. He felt useless, a weight on others who, at the very least, could make something of their bodies. They could travel and discover new worlds. But no, stuck in place, he was obliged to watch the same daily convoy of bureaucrats crossing the base without ever daring to leave it, staff of the wing who would come to watch over him and offer their looks of pity and friends who would pay the occasional visit, until they forgot… or ended up never coming back.
The guy who'd come to see him was one of the last trusted friends he had, though strangely enough, he'd never caught his name. A travel companion from back when Ambre was nothing more than a guard of the base. He had stayed all this time, never once leaving. Even if Ambre found him too scared of the outside world, he wondered if he himself had been mistaken to have gone so far, accepting to venture out on expeditions. Otherwise, maybe he wouldn't have wound up trapped in bed, immobilised by the weakness of his limbs, by his respiratory issues, by his ceaseless spitting.
He hadn't noticed right away, but the man in front of him held a cardboard box in his hands.
Sorry to have woken you, but we found something that seems like it was sent for you, a kind of package. The odd thing is that nobody was seen leaving it in the base's storage. The package's just addressed to your name, no address. So, I'm sorry, but we had to rummage through it. It was suspicious, you understand… But hey, someone clearly wanted to leave you a message.
He takes a VHS tape out of the box. It reminds him of the one the explorers of Nouvelle-Flandre saw in the old woman's house. Why was this sent to him?
Ever the silent type, I see. Well, we only played it for a few seconds to make sure it worked and… we're not all that sure what it means. We'd prefer to leave it to you to watch it, but there's something about it that gives me pause. Watch it, and you'll see.
He hands him the VHS tape. There's something written on it: "ONLY FOR AMBRE HUART". This makes Ambre's blood run cold, given he'd never told anyone his last name. Whoever was behind this tape, it was within their power to learn things that nobody normally could. That was enough to pique Ambre's curiosity — he wanted to know just what this tape might contain.
Give me the cassette so I can play it for you, I know that you're still too weak to walk. I'll leave you alone with it, I can't stay too long, you understand. Good luck, man.
He let it happen, but the patronizing way he was treated tended to annoy him. He would like to be able to walk, if only he were given the chance… and the will to do so. So, slightly disgruntled by the parting comment of his friend, Ambre readies himself to watch the VHS that was sent to him.
[BEGINNING OF THE RECORDING]
[00:05]
(00:00: The VHS is inserted into the player. The video begins after a while. Seconds later, a minimalist title card appears.)
(00:05: The title card stays for about 10 seconds, fixed, in a complete silence. No other text appears.)
(00:15: The title card disappears, leaving a black screen. Birds sing, the wind blows. The sounds of nature suddenly give way to footsteps on creaky floorboards. An close-up shot appears, in which we can see Ambre wandering in a room of an unknown building. The room resembles a sitting room of a house in ruin. The building is no doubt old, probably several hundred years. We see a bookshelf in the background, partially full of books. The rest of the room seems empty.)
Ambre: I've always wondered what happened to her, since I fell into this sort of hellish parallel dimension. Does she remember me? Has she wondered what's happened to me? It's weird, you know, but I almost want to hope that she's come to terms with it, that she's rationalised it by telling herself that I must have abandoned her like a coward. I wish so much that she's moved on, that she's made a new life for herself, far away from everything I left behind.
The alternative would be much worse. When I look at myself, I really hope that this hasn't destroyed her.
Not a day goes by where I don't think of her. We'd been together for many years. We had just started to build our little nest, starting with this old house. Alright, as you see it here, its charm isn't evident, but I can promise you that… back in my day — if you'll pardon the expression (Ambre smiles wryly, though his eyes maintain a blank expression), it had a real soul. I felt comfortable there, safe.
[04:58]
We had planned our future together. We had just finished our studies, where the two of us met. I was more into the social sciences, and she was doing mathematics. In any case, we were going to end up as secondary school teachers. We both had the art of sinking into interminable monologues about our passions and of tirelessly debating our favourite films, our music tastes… Well, especially of making fun of mine which were very dubious, I admit. In one sense, we were very different, and at the same time so similar. I loved her calm side, she was my stability, my life traft when I let myself be overwhelmed by my emotions. When I panicked at the mountain of work for my thesis, she gave me all the reasons everything was alright, and all the solutions to reach the end. She really gave her all, she was a beautiful and altruistic soul. Here, where I'm now trapped, I feel a sort of absence within people. I don't know how to explain it, but nobody can think of anything but their own survival, you know? Course, people help each other out when it comes to being able to live another day, but we've all lived through terrible things, we've all got got memories buried inside us, ready to explode. We're shadows of ourselves, the human fibre is erased in worlds where everything is life or death.
Sorry, I don't want to bother you with all this. You're here so I can tell you all about what was my home on the other side, right? Let's go.
(Ambre clears his throat. His gestures are robotic; he looks around, and looks straight into the camera. His stare seems empty, as if he were present in body, but not in mind.)
In here's where we spent the majority of our time, the library. We were two bookworms, which let us spend some time in peace, away from everything. It's funny, we didn't speak too much in those moments, but it was really nice. It was calming for us both, sharing a cherished moment together. Sometimes, we would exchange a few looks and talk about what we'd read. We both had a pretty hard time coping with the daily grind of life, and the incessant noise of the city, so these moments where a small yet necessary ritual for us.
You know what I loved even more? Stealing a glance at her pensive gaze as she read. You'd see her frown, her emerald eyes concentrating on the words of her page. Then, after a little while, she couldn't help but let out a little noise. I built up a sort of decoder in my head for what those sounds meant. For example, when she let out a sigh, she thought the story was too clichéd, and when she let out a soft little giggle, that meant that she'd been caught off guard by a plot twist in what she was reading. I loved observing these micro-expressions so much, it was adorable.
I… I guess we'll be heading through the rooms of the house?
(A long silence ensues. Ambre seems to be listening to something, or someone. He nods after a few seconds and leaves the frame.)
His heart sank. He instantly recognized his house, back where he was certain he'd never return. Time seemed to have taken its toll on this house that had once been full of life. Everything seemed so bleached, so gloomy. He also noticed that all the books in the library that weren't his own had been removed. This sight was enough to make him uncomfortable, but what terrified him most was that he didn't have any memory of what he was before his eyes. He could swear that he'd never uttered these words, that he'd never been able to return home.
(5:00: The shot changes, Ambre enters by the door visible in the frame, and heads to the corner of the room. He looks towards the mounted deer head, then looks directly above the camera. He seems surprised.)
[5:00]
Ambre: That wasn't there before? Well, I know that her step-grandfather was a hunter, but that's no reason for a deer head to be in our bedroom… or what's left of it.
The bedroom, it reminds me of the long conversations he'd have at night. They'd come upon us randomly, like that. You're supposed to wake up at 8:00 a.m., yet here you are spilling school gossip, admitting your deepest fears, sharing your wildest dreams, discussing your plans together. It let us clear our heads.
Just there, (Ambre points his finger to the left) we had our marital bed, a big bed for two, very comfortable. When we had the time, we'd stay in bed and I'd lose myself in her eyes. They were so beautiful. That's what I remember best about her, after all these years.
I also remember the smell of her perfume. She took great care of herself and always left a soft scent of vanilla behind her as she left in the morning. I miss it, here
it always stinks of damp, rot and mustiness. How do you want me to feel? It's not human, it's not normal! My home isn't in these god-forsaken "Backrooms", it's here! It's fucking here. Let me live here. Don't make go back there, have mercy. Please.
(A long silence ensues. Ambre's gaze is defeated.)
I admit seeing this room completely empty unsettles me a bit. I'd like to head on to the next one.
[6:54]
(6:54: This time, footsteps on a creaky floor can be heard. Ambre eventually appears from behind in the frame, which shows the house's kitchen. The room is somewhat dilapidated.)
Ambre: Just what the hell happened here…? God, I hope you're playing some kind of sick game with me and that this isn't really my house. She would never have left it like this. This house was our dream, I refuse to consider it — we'd imagined so many things here!
(Ambre opens the curtains of the window behind the sink. He stares outside, before violently trying to open the window, pulling with all his might. He doesn't manage it and finally gives up.)
Ambre: Why are you doing this to me? Seriously, tell me. It's fucking torture, it's a prison. I wanted to see her, not that the life I was supposed to live has fallen to pieces.
(An androgynous voice is heard from offscreen.)
???: Because you have to remember. Now, tell us how the kitchen makes you feel.
Ambre: Tell me after this, you'll let me go.
???: We're not here to hurt you, only to help you remember. Speak, and everything will be alright.
Ambre: (He clears his throat.) Alright… The evening of our first date, we were supposed to eat at a fancy Italian restaurant, the kind you'd give a 5-star review. And I tell ya, I was ready to spend a hefty amount of cash to make her bat an eyelash. Something to impress her, you know? All that went down the toilet real quick, because that same day there it started bucketing down, making it impossible to leave her house. All of a sudden, to make up for it, I had to play the role of a little chef with the means at hand… In the end, I only managed to make a simple pasta with cheese, I wasn't too great in the kitchen. But then and there, we managed to communicate in an authentic way that would have been impossible over in that restaurant. This kind of dating was a bit been-there-done-that, but in these circumstances, she had the chance to see the real me, and I the real her. It's there that we understood that this wouldn't be a simple "rendezvous", but something that had to last a long time.
When we finally bought our house, the first thing I made her was that same pasta. This kitchen was the first place where we realized we'd done it, that we'd finally realized our dream of starting the life we'd always wanted. We'd were going to start something beautiful, something magnificent, something truly happy… But it was stolen away from me. Unfairly.
Now, let me go back home.
(One last shot appears, showing wide-open door. The static shot lasts 5 seconds, during which the sounds of nature can be heard. The screen suddenly cuts to black.)
[9:00]
[END OF THE RECORDING]
The screen gives way to static. Ambre painfully lifts himself from his bed, walks a few steps before nearly falling in front of the TV. Prostrate in front of the sreen, he replays the VHS tape. Again. And again.
And again.
