JUDAS'KISS

ONE

Samuel Spoter was walking through the city, his mind light, humming an old song he liked. That morning, the radio was broadcasting the news, but Samuel only paid half an ear to it. The day's news blended with his cheerful mood, creating a kind of strange melody in his head. He hummed in time with the journalist, a smile on his lips, enjoying the familiar routine of his commute.

The song abruptly cut off when, without warning, a young woman appeared in front of his car. The screeching of tires on the asphalt pierced the air, drowning out the music and the city's noise. Samuel, his heart pounding, came to a sudden stop, his hands gripping the steering wheel. He remained frozen, breathless, just inches away from the frail figure that had almost thrown herself under his wheels.

He hurried out of the car, his body still shaking with adrenaline. "Miss, are you okay?" he called out, his voice trembling with concern. But the young woman, like a shadow, did not respond. She seemed completely detached from reality, her empty eyes fixed on some invisible point ahead. Her lips barely moved, articulating inaudible words, like a prayer or a lost chant.

Samuel watched her walk away, his body numb with shock. He couldn't move, his feet felt rooted to the pavement. For a moment, he felt sucked into an oppressive void, a dull anxiety that thickened the air around him. The world kept turning, cars passed by, people walked, but he remained there, frozen, unable to take his eyes off the strange apparition fading into the distance.

He was so absorbed in the moment that he lost track of how long he had been standing there. Finally, as if waking from a nightmare, he shook his head, tried to gather his thoughts, and forced himself to get back into his car. The drive to the office was silent, the light atmosphere of the morning having evaporated, replaced by an inexplicable weight on his chest.

When he arrived at work, Samuel got out of the car without a word. He walked through the lobby without greeting the security guards as he usually did, nor did he flash the teasing smile he often reserved for Enora-Lucette, the receptionist, whom he liked to brighten up her mornings with a few jokes. Today, all of that seemed distant, almost trivial. The scene he had just experienced still haunted him, and he couldn't shake the image of that woman from his mind.

He climbed the stairs, his head down, and headed straight for Haddon's office. The latter, engrossed in his files, barely looked up when Samuel entered.

"Haddon," Samuel began, sitting down in front of him without ceremony, "I almost ran over a woman this morning."

Haddon raised an eyebrow but didn't divert his attention from his papers. "Did you hit her?"

"No," Samuel replied, shaking his head.

"Is she dead?"

"No," Samuel insisted, his face marked with worry.

"She's fine... well, physically, yes, but she didn't seem okay at all. She was completely out of it, murmuring strange things, as if she didn't even realize I almost ran her over."

Haddon sighed, visibly annoyed. "Samuel, you didn't hurt her, she's not dead, so there's no need to be alarmed. I don't understand why you're so worried. Life must go on, that's all." Samuel hadn't yet had time to pull himself together when his name echoed through the office hallways, cutting off his troubled thoughts.

"Samuel!" Mr. Gouze Spoter shouted from his office.

His father's authoritative voice thundered like a bolt, shaking Samuel from his stupor. Despite the inner turmoil still gnawing at him, he forced himself to stand and head towards his father's office, his steps heavy and his expression grim. Entering the room, he found Mr. Gouze sitting behind his large desk, his severe gaze fixed on him. Mr. Gouze's office was an intimidating place, cluttered with papers, newspapers, and books, yet each item seemed to have its precise place, reflecting the rigid order that reigned in the mind of the Spoter family patriarch.