Three Months After the Massacre — Porto Alegre, Brazil
The streets were alive.
Cars came and went... the reflection of headlights danced on the puddles left by the earlier rain.
People hurried across the corners, some talking on the phone, others just walking on autopilot, not even looking to the side.
The sound of engines, footsteps, horns... everything carried on in the same rhythm as always.
The city didn't even seem to have stopped, not even after the tragic incident.
Just a few months later, life was back on track as if nothing had ever happened.
But for Louie, Porto Alegre was an unknown, new vastness.
He walked slowly along the crooked sidewalk,
hands in his pockets, his gaze lost ahead — but not really seeing anything.
The damp May wind slipped between the buildings,
bringing that smell of dry leaves
mixed with the rusty air of a wet city.
Some trees were already bare.
Others still clung to orange and reddish branches,
hanging over the street as if refusing to let go of the last of autumn.
The late-autumn chill wasn't harsh,
but enough to pierce through the fabric of his jacket —
and freeze, with ease, the most vulnerable places of both the human body and soul.
Just a few meters away stood the closed gates of the old Península School.
Now turned into a quiet memorial, the place received people every day —
families of those who were lost, former students who had grown up there, reporters chasing stories, and curious strangers wanting to see up close the site of the most heinous massacre of the century — maybe even of history.
Fences surrounded the whole place.
Glass panels displayed the victims' names, one by one.
Flowers, letters, and photos piled up on improvised walls —
some damp from drizzle, others already faded by time.
There were candles, teddy bears, rosaries tied up, and posters with words like
"We'll never forget" and "They lived here."
Louie stopped at the main gate.
Even after three months, that emptiness still weighed heavy on his chest.
It felt like the ground still carried the echo of the last voices...
the screams...
and the silence that came after all the horror of that dreadful day.
A single piece remembered from the big, forgotten puzzle of Louie's mind.
He tried to breathe deeply —
but the air seemed heavy, hard to swallow.
His heart beat slow, as if weighed down.
Not even the trees around him —
with dry leaves scattered on the ground —
could hide the chill and the sorrow for the blood spilled there.
As much as everything around had changed — as much as the city had begun to breathe again — inside Louie there were still ruins — bloodstains impossible to forget.
Fragments of something he didn't even know how to begin piecing back together.
He didn't really understand…
Actually — he didn't understand anything at all.
And the truth was, no one really knew what had happened that day.
He lightly touched his right eye.
That strange color — that reddish tone — was still a mystery.
But the feeling of strangeness… of disgust toward himself... that never went away. In fact, it only got worse with time.
Three months had passed, and every day he felt something moving inside. Something strange. Alive. Like it was about to wake up — but he had no idea how to contain it.
Emi, his mother, was always by his side. She told him to be strong, to move on… but Louie knew — her pain was still there, just well hidden.
In the blink of an eye, her son had lived through a tragedy. He survived, but who he used to be… still seemed far away from returning.
She could smile, say everything was fine — but the absence of that old Louie still screamed in silence.
Nina, his sister, was like a lighthouse in those dark days. Always with a smile on her face, always trying to lift his spirits, even when everything seemed too heavy.
At some point in those three months, he had put on a mask. The mask of the old Louie.
He didn't feel like himself, not really. It was just a copy — a poorly made shell, the broken remains of a Louie who once existed inside that body. Just a useless shard of glass, trying to look whole.
The afternoon was calm, with that typical chill that bit harder in the shadows.
Louie shoved his hands in his pockets and exhaled slowly, feeling the cold wind brush against his face.
That's when he heard it.
A familiar voice calling his name.
— Louie! Louie, wait! Waaiiiiit!
He turned and saw Nina running toward him, breathless, her eyes shining as if she had just come out of a game.
— What is it, Nina? — Louie asked, still distracted by the strange weight of the day. — Don't you think you're too little to be running around alone? Watch out, or the bogeyman's gonna get you...
— Oh, shut up, you loser! I'm no little kid anymore! — Nina shot back, sticking her tongue out as she stopped right in front of him, bent over, trying to catch her breath.
Her cheeks were red, her hands on her knees as she breathed fast.
— Loser? That's a new one... where'd you get that from? — Louie let out a small laugh, for the first time all day letting a real smile escape. — But alright... what'd you come here for?
— Mom said you were going to the memorial — Nina answered, still catching her breath, her voice uneven. — So... I wanted to come with you, you dummy. But never mind, I don't even want to anymore! — she said, crossing her arms and giving Louie a mock-threatening glare.
Louie gave her a faint smile and said:
— Let's go back together then... I just came for a walk anyway.
He spoke looking straight into his sister's blue eyes, in that calm and steady way of his.
— A walk, huh? Suuure... — Nina replied, smirking. — You've been sneaking out on these walks a lot lately... did you get yourself a girlfriend and not tell us? Who's the unlucky one?
— What the hell are you talk—
Then, out of nowhere, Louie froze.
A wave of heat surged through his body. His chest tightened, like his heart was about to explode. The air grew heavy.
He looked around, lost. But everything was the same.
Empty streets. Cars passing in the distance, blurry. Nothing out of place.
Only him, standing in the middle of the sidewalk, in front of the memorial, feeling that strange pressure, that knot in his throat.
Without realizing it, his fists clenched.
The heat inside him gathered suddenly in his hands.
And then—
BOOM
A blue explosion flared briefly between his fingers.
Nina screamed and jumped back, startled.
Louie didn't move. He stood frozen, staring at his hands — now wrapped in a strange blue glow, trembling, alive, as if it had a will of its own.
The light faded quickly, dissolving into the air.
His hair — and Nina's — shot up, messy, as if a surge of electricity had just passed between them.
— Wh-what was that...? — Nina stammered, eyes wide, running her hand through her frizzed-up hair.
She looked at Louie, unsure whether to laugh, cry, or run away scared.
Louie had no idea what to say.
He stared at his trembling hands. The light had vanished as quickly as it appeared — but the sensation remained.
— I... I don't know... — he muttered, moving his fingers as if something was still there. — Maybe lightning struck?
— But it's not even raining... and we're fine — Nina shot back, frowning, more curious than afraid. — I don't think... lightning would leave us unharmed.
Even nervous, she touched his arm, as if that would help understand what was happening.
— Bro... do you think you have... like, powers? — she asked softly, her voice a mix of doubt, fear, and a hint of excitement.
— Don't be ridiculous, Nina. That's impossi—
Before he could finish, Louie froze again.
A sharp pain suddenly exploded in his arm and spread like fire through his body up into his head.
He fell to his knees, clutching himself as if his muscles were twisting inside.
That chilling weight in the air grew worse — like all his energy and breath were being drained at once.
Everything started to fade.
The sounds, the colors, the world outside.
It all grew distant... muffled.
Only the weight in his body remained, and the strange tightening in his chest.
Louie grabbed his forehead, trying to ease the pressure — and then the images came, flashing like fragments of a video.
A city in flames.
Buildings collapsing.
People screaming, running.
A massive cliff.
Blood everywhere.
And at its edge...
Someone stood.
A lone figure in the chaos.
Their back turned to the burning city. Still. Unmoving.
His body was hidden in shadows and blood — but Louie could feel his weight.
As if that presence swallowed everything around.
As if death itself stared back.
White hair, matted with blood.
And the eyes... glowing red. Burning like embers.
Through the shadows and blood on his skin, faint, corrupted veins pulsed like molten magma.
Louie froze instantly.
His blood turned to ice.
— Louie, what's happening to you?! — Nina cried, terrified, watching her brother shake and sweat.
— Louie!... Louie... Lou... — her voice grew distant, fading, as if being pulled away.
Or as if he was staring into the abyss... and the abyss stared back.
Then, the silhouette by the cliff opened its mouth.
The voice came out low, dragging... eerily familiar.
It sounded soft, but grotesque, like it was laughing from the inside.
— "Ahhh... so the little eyes have opened, huh, Louie?
Three months... and only now you begin to wake up?"
A dry, mocking laugh echoed inside his head, as if forced in.
— "It wasn't by accident.
You've already been marked, kid.
The massacre... your eye and hair... all these changes.
You really think it was all just coincidence?"
(muffled laughter)
— "You still don't get it...
But don't worry. No need to rush.
Sooner or later... you'll break."
An eerie silence followed for a few seconds.
Then, the voice returned — softer now, almost mocking:
— "Oh, is my time up already? What a drag... Well, I'll be off for now... So long, kid!"
A chill ran down Louie's spine.
Those words echoed in his head...
They felt oddly familiar — but he had no idea who that figure was, or what it wanted.
When he finally came to, control over his body returned.
He hadn't even realized he was lying... in Nina's lap.
Startled by the haunting voice, he shot up in one movement, his heart pounding in his throat.
— W-WHO ARE YOU?! — he shouted, without thinking, his voice slicing through the cold air around the memorial.
Panting, drenched in sweat, he looked around, trembling.
— B-brother...? — Nina looked at him, frightened, her breath shaky, her voice trembling.
— What... the hell was that? — Louie whispered, still lost. — What... am I?
The city carried on, indifferent to pain and doubt.
Night fell over Porto Alegre and, as if nothing had happened, the unanswered questions drifted in the air... wandering in search of meaning.