John stops pummeling Jack. The memory he just witnessed leaves him hollow, depressed by the realization that his little girl would never fulfill her dream. His eyes grow vacant, dull as a dead fish's gaze.
John stands up, grabs the key, and walks to the kitchen door. He begins to think:
"I know perfectly well she's not in this city anymore. I need to get out of here, but I... I don't want to forget what I lived here." Flashbacks begin to flood his mind. "It's hard to believe this beautiful village turned into such a hostile environment. But what can I do? If I stay, I'll eventually die." John turns around. "I think I know what to do."
He walks to Lisa's bedroom. He goes to the wardrobe and opens a drawer, finding a photo album inside. He opens it.
The first photo shows Lisa with her friends at her 5th birthday party; they all look so radiant. John offers a faint smile as he flips through the pages. He stops at a printed smartphone photo: John and Lisa are eating ice cream at a stand alongside an older woman.
"I miss you, Mom," he whispers.
Below it, another photo shows John asleep with his face painted. Lisa had drawn a scar on his forehead, made to look like stitches holding his skin together.
"Taking that off was hell," he mutters.
He continues leafing through the album until he stops at a page that leaves him shocked. It's a photo of Lisa at thirteen, standing next to a boy. John is surprised; he had never seen this boy before. Though the boy is just a stranger in the grander story, John stares at him with intense interest.
"A friend, right? Don't tell me..." John is stunned. "No, it's fine. I can't be angry... I did the same thing at that age."
He reaches the end of the album. There, a large photo occupies almost the entire page. It features John, Lisa, the girl's grandmother, and her mother—a dark-skinned, muscular woman with blonde hair. She has one arm draped over John's shoulder while the other flexes a bicep. John's mother, an elderly woman lined with wrinkles but wearing a massive smile, stands with them.
Lisa, the shortest of the group, stands before a birthday cake topped with a number five candle.
John begins to sob. He leans his face close to the album, tears splashing onto the glossy paper. The longing is unbearable. He tries to pull away and close the book, but his hands are shaking too violently.
His nose runs and his tears flow like endless waterfalls. In a sudden burst of agony, he hurls the album against the wall and stands up. He wipes his eyes with his right arm, glares at the album, and whispers:
"Lisa... forgive me."
Hesitating for only a second, he picks up the album and, without shedding another tear, rips it to shreds. The entire book is destroyed. He breathes heavily, questioning his own desperation.
John returns to the kitchen. He goes to the fridge and grabs several bottles of beer and a box of matches. He cracks the bottles open and begins dousing the house in alcohol.
It isn't enough. He returns to the fridge for more, splashing it across the rooms. He empties three and a half bottles; the last one remains half-full in his hand.
John takes a final swig, then hurls the bottle against the wall. He takes a deep breath, opens the back door, strikes a match, and drops it. The house ignites instantly.
As John turns to leave, he feels a suffocating, threatening presence. He looks back into the heart of the fire and sees a slender creature watching him. All he can make out is its silhouette through the flames.
Terrified, John bolts, leaping over his backyard fence. When he looks back, the creature is still there, standing perfectly still... smiling.
Inside the burning house, Jack stumbles through the inferno. He is nothing more than fuel for the Great Fire. The tiled roof, supported by dry wooden beams, begins to collapse. Jack trips over a fallen plank as he tries to run. He hits the floor and dies—but he is not alone. Someone is standing behind him: a tall, thin figure in a black suit, its face obscured by a void of absolute darkness.
The creature does nothing but watch.
Back to John: he is walking through the city, eyes darting in every direction. He is defenseless; in his haste, he forgot to grab a weapon.
As he searches for anything to protect himself, he spots a grocery store. The glass doors are shattered, and the windows are stained with dried blood.
John enters and recognizes the place. It used to be filled with food, sweets, and household goods—cutlery, tools, plates, PVC pipes, or even steel pipes.
There were once more aggressive items here too: combat knives, saws, and axes. Now, the place is a ruin, covered in dust and rotting food.
John scans the shelves and finds a tin of meat. It's heavy—full. He checks the expiration date: 12/30/2076.
It seems this food would last a long time yet. John finds a knife nearby and pries it open.