That morning, around 10:10 a.m., the atmosphere at the market was tense. Everyone was gathering, trying to get what they could together before leaving. Silence reigned, but it wasn't a peaceful silence—it was a heavy, suffocating silence, filled with uncertainty and fear.
Samira, sitting in a corner, held her arms close as if trying to protect herself from the cold, but the truth was that her body was trembling from something else: pain. After denying it to herself for so long, she finally accepted that her brother was dead. Her gaze lost on the floor, her eyes brimming with tears, her breathing heavy… Now she felt completely alone. There was no one else to protect her the way he did.
João Paulo approached, saying nothing. He knelt beside her and handed her a package of cookies. It wasn't much, but it was all he could offer at that moment.
"Eat something," he said softly, trying to sound comforting.
Samira looked up, hesitated for a moment, and finally took the package without saying a word.
A few meters away, Anael and Arthur stood together. Neither of them spoke, but every now and then they exchanged glances, sharing the same silent hope: that Bruno was still alive and would return to them.
Raziel, on the other hand, seemed increasingly distant. Ever since it all began, he had shut himself off from the world. With each passing day, he grew more withdrawn, more silent. He missed his parents terribly, and now his worry about his cousin only grew. It had been a full day since Bruno had disappeared, and he simply couldn't shake the worst thoughts.
Meanwhile, Reidner, determined to take charge of the situation, began packing groceries into a few bags, moving quickly through the market. His movements were hurried, as if he wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.
Alonso noticed his strange behavior and frowned.
"What are you doing? Are you planning to go somewhere?" he asked, crossing his arms.
Reidner didn't even stop what he was doing to answer.
"It's not safe for us here. We need to get out before something bad happens."
His answer was direct, but no one liked the way he spoke as if he had already decided for everyone.
Suddenly, he stopped, took a deep breath, and looked at the group. Everyone was staring at him now, waiting for him to explain his impulsive behavior better.
"Guys…" he began, looking each of them in the eye. "The market isn't safe anymore. Yesterday was a warning of what could happen if we just stand here waiting. We need to find a place where we're protected, a place that will actually keep us alive."
He paused, then turned his gaze to Samira, Arthur, Anael, and João Paulo. His expression hardened.
"And, let's be honest… staying here waiting, believing that he survived that horde on his own and that he'll come back unharmed… is a waste of time. Bruno must already be dead."
Silence fell like a stone over the group.
Reidner wanted to keep the group safe, but staying there, inside the market warehouse, made him feel like a pig waiting to be slaughtered. Every minute they stood still was a greater risk.
"And who was to blame for that damn horde being brought here, HUH? WHO WAS IT?!" Arthur stood up suddenly, his voice brimming with fury. He was trembling with rage, his fists clenched. To him, if Bruno was dead, the blame lay with whoever had brought that disaster to the market.
"He's right, Arthur," Camille interjected, trying to ease the tension. "The more time we waste here, the riskier it'll be to leave. Ideally, we should find a better shelter before the end of the day."
Arthur let out a heavy sigh, still irritated, but didn't argue.
In the middle of the discussion, Alicia, who had been watching with her arms crossed, snorted.
"In my opinion, this group isn't going to work out."
"I agree," said João Paulo, raising one hand without hesitation.
Alonso, who was observing the general discontent, wasn't surprised. He already knew what the group's real problem was. If they wanted to survive, they needed to stop acting like a disorganized bunch and start functioning as something bigger. Before the tension exploded completely and the group split apart, he decided to take control of the situation.
"Guys, I know we're all stressed, sad, confused, and angry at each other," he began, his voice firm, commanding everyone's attention. "But with everything that's happened, we should be uniting, not splitting apart." We need to address the group's problems and organize ourselves in a way that actually works. If we don't do this, we won't last long.
He paused briefly, scanning the faces around him. Then he continued:
"What we need is to structure ourselves as a solid group… or rather, as a new community, prepared for whatever comes."
João Paulo looked up, meeting Alonso's gaze.
"And what do you suggest?"
Alonso sat up straight, confident in his idea.
"An internal system to balance things out. Leaders selected for specific roles. That way, no one will have to compete to see who's in charge anymore."
He looked directly at Reidner as he said this.
But before anyone could respond, Alicia let out a bitter laugh and shook her head.
"Whatever you decide… without Bruno, we have no one who knows how to handle these things, especially when we're outnumbered."
Pedro stepped forward, pounding his chest.
"Gui and I can fight, if we have to."
Alicia snorted, clearly irritated.
"I don't think you guys get it. Everyone here is weak and cowardly!" Her voice faltered for a second, but she regained her composure. "If it weren't for Samira's brother taking a risk yesterday, everyone here would probably be dead by now. He was the best of us all!" And now you want to act like he's disposable, just because he hasn't come back yet?!
Her eyes flashed with anger and frustration, her breathing rapid. She was on the verge of tears.
Silence fell over the group again.
This time, no one had the courage to respond.
João Paulo didn't hesitate. He stepped forward and, without saying a word, embraced Alicia. She tensed for a moment, but didn't pull away.
Then he lifted his face and looked at everyone around him, his expression serious, without a trace of doubt.
"Listen to me carefully," his voice echoed firmly. "You know that Bruno is my best friend, like a brother to me. But let's be realistic: if he isn't dead by now, then he's definitely turned into a mutant… or an infected. He was bitten at Alicia's house."
The impact of João Paulo's words was immediate. The silence that followed was suffocating. Some widened their eyes, others looked away, unable to face the brutal truth they had just heard.
"I don't care what you think of him," João continued, his voice growing heavier. "But as long as he hasn't turned into one of them, he was a hero to me. And that means it's my responsibility to take care of his family. So, you don't need to wait for him."
He let the words fall like a stone in the middle of the group. There was no room for debate or illusions.
But before anyone could respond, a sudden noise echoed through the market.
Something—or someone—was passing through the wide-open gate that the infected had broken down earlier.
Instantly, everyone froze, hearts racing, breath held. The fear was almost palpable.
Footsteps.
Heavy, slow, moving down the dark aisle of the market.
João Paulo gripped the knife tightly in his hand. The muscles in his arm tensed, ready to react at the slightest sign of danger. If it was an infected, he wouldn't let it get near the others.
The footsteps were getting closer.
Every second felt like an eternity.
And then…
Someone appeared at the warehouse entrance.
Suddenly, a violent crash shook the warehouse.
The door was kicked so hard it flew inward, crashing down on João Paulo. He felt the brutal impact, but with a superhuman effort, he managed to stay on his feet, holding the heavy structure back so he wouldn't be crushed.
Silence filled the room.
Everyone was frozen, shocked, staring at the figure who had just burst in.
A low, macabre laugh echoed through the entrance.
João Paulo flung the door aside, and as he looked up, his heart sank.
Bruno was there.
But something about him wasn't the same.
His body was covered in dried blood, his eyes glowing a hellish red, pulsing like live embers. His gaze… there was no humanity left there. No fury, no pain. Just something strange, cold, and deeply wrong.
Even his voice, when he finally spoke, carried a deeper, almost supernatural tone.
"Bruno!" Daniel shouted, but his voice came out hesitant, laden with disbelief.
The intruder smiled slightly. A crooked smile, full of something perverse.
"My name is not Bruno."
The air seemed to grow heavier.
"Now shut up…" His eyes glinted even more. "The dead don't talk."
That sentence sent a chill down the spines of everyone there.
Samira, Raziel, and Guilherme sensed something different, something inexplicable. The atmosphere became suffocating, as if the very oxygen were being drained away.
"Damn it… WHY CAN'T I MOVE?!" Gabriel shouted, desperation overflowing in his voice. His body was rigid, as if invisible chains were pinning him to the ground.
The answer came cruelly.
Bruno—or whatever he was now—moved silently, like a shadow, appearing in front of Gabriel before anyone could react.
"Because you, my dear… are already dead."
And then, in a single brutal motion, he sank his teeth into Gabriel's neck.
The sound of flesh being torn was horrifying.
Blood gushed like a red fountain, staining the floor, the walls, the faces of those who were too close. Gabriel tried to scream, but only a gurgle came from his mutilated throat.
Bruno didn't just bite him. He fed.
He drank the blood in front of everyone, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
More monstrous than the infected themselves.
Terror gripped the warehouse.
The girls began to scream, their voices echoing like a chorus of pure horror.
Samira, Alicia, Raziel, and Camille couldn't bear the grotesque scene. The shock, the fear, and the suffocating weight of Bruno's presence were too much for their bodies to handle.
They fainted, one by one, collapsing like rag dolls.
And Bruno—or Mohammad, as he now wanted to be called—just smiled.
A predator's smile before its prey.
The men standing there struggled against their own bodies, trying to move, but it was as if they were bound by invisible chains.
Fear paralyzed them.
The warehouse, which had once been a refuge, now looked like an execution chamber.
"W-why did you do this?" João Paulo finally managed to ask, his voice faltering, filled with terror as he stared at his friend.
Or rather, what was left of him.
Bruno—or Mohammad, as he now called himself—tilted his head slightly, as if he found the question amusing.
"Because I want to," he replied, his voice laced with a dry, cruel tone. His red eyes glowed intensely as he took a step forward. "And, before signaling my arrival, I heard all your little chat…"
He raised his hand, tapping his temple with his fingers.
"I have a good ear."
The smile that formed on his lips was unsettling, tinged with something twisted.
"Your luck… is that Bruno is still in here, witnessing the death of each and every one of you."
The silence that followed was absolute.
Then, without warning, Mohammad spun on his heels and lunged at Daniel.
The punch came so fast that no one had time to react.
Daniel barely had a chance to realize what was happening before he felt the brutal impact of the first blow. His body was thrown backward, slamming into one of the shelves. But Mohammad didn't give him time to recover.
He was on top of the boy again, his fists coming down with violence.
Punch.
Another punch.
And yet another.
The sound of cracking bones echoed through the warehouse like the dry sound of wood snapping.
"S-STOP!" someone shouted, but it was like shouting at a storm to stop falling.
The others were in shock, their screams mingling with the desperation of Bruno's cousins, who begged him to stop.
But that…
That wasn't Bruno.
Not by a long shot.
The way he spoke, the way he moved, the way he looked at them… it was as if something inside him had awakened. Something new, cruel, and merciless.
Mohammad finally stopped. He looked at his own blood-stained hands and then at Daniel's swollen, bloodied face, which was sobbing quietly on the floor.
He laughed.
"You know… you guys are really cocky. I was watching everything through Bruno's eyes."
He ran his tongue over his lips, savoring the tension in the air, like a predator toying with its prey before striking.
Then he turned to João Paulo, his eyes burning red like embers.
— And, Jão… I have to thank you.
He approached slowly, savoring every step like a king surveying his kingdom.
— If it weren't for that cut on Bruno with the infected blood, I'd still be trapped inside him. But thanks to that…
He spread his arms wide, as if displaying a work of art.
— Now I'm part of the mutation. I am evolution.
And before anyone could react, Mohammad swung his fist and struck another member of the group with a sharp blow to the stomach, sending him crashing to his knees.
— And now…
He looked around, his smile widening, his eyes sparkling with pure amusement.
"I'm going to beat them one by one… until I'm satisfied."
And then the massacre began.
João Paulo felt his stomach churn as he watched the chaos unfold before him.
Every punch, every scream, every drop of blood splattered on the floor made it even harder to believe what he was seeing.
Bruno…
Or rather, what was left of him.
Fury began to boil inside João Paulo, rising through his chest like an uncontrollable fire. He felt anger. Not just toward Mohammad, but also toward himself.
Because he knew that one day this could happen.
And he knew the exact moment Bruno's words came back to haunt him:
"You know you're the only thing holding me back, in case I lose my humanity and decide to start killing people for no good reason."
The words echoed, cutting through his mind like sharp razors.
He looked at the monster standing before him.
Bruno had always known.
He had always known there was something inside him, something he couldn't hold back on his own.
And now João Paulo understood what that meant.
Because this was the moment.
The moment to fulfill the promise he never wanted to make.
His fists clenched, and fury began to take over his body. Every muscle throbbed, demanding action, begging him to do something.
His best friend was no longer there.
What stood before him was a cruel and sadistic entity, using Bruno's body as a puppet to spread pain and terror.
And João Paulo had a duty to stop him.
But he couldn't move.
The weight was crushing, as if invisible chains were holding him in place.
His muscles were stiff, his bones heavy as lead.
He tried to fight against it, against the suffocating influence that pinned him to the ground. But every time his eyes met Mohammad's, he felt his strength drain away.
Those red eyes seemed to pull him into a bottomless abyss.
Meanwhile, Mohammad pressed on relentlessly.
Every punch, every blow, sent bodies falling one by one around João Paulo.
Until, in the end, only the two of them remained.
The silence in the warehouse was oppressive.
Bodies lay scattered around, blood splattered across the floor, faint breaths and muffled sobs.
Mohammad approached João Paulo slowly, satisfaction etched on his face.
"You know, João…" he said, his voice laced with scorn. "I'm not going to kill you."
He laughed, a low, drawn-out sound, full of twisted pleasure.
"I want you to live… for the plans I have for you."
He tilted his head, looking João Paulo in the eyes, letting those red eyes consume what little control he had left.
"I want them to hunt me down."
His smile widened.
"I want them to try to kill me."
João Paulo felt his heart pounding against his chest, pure hatred bubbling up inside him.
But even so… he couldn't move.
"And if you want to know why…" Mohammad took a step forward, bringing his face close to João Paulo's.
His voice came out like a venomous whisper:
— The more traumatized, frustrated, and uninterested in living poor Bruno becomes…
He broke into a wide grin, his eyes shining like glowing embers.
— The more I make myself present.
Time seemed to stand still.
João Paulo's eyes widened, feeling a chill run down his spine.
Mohammad stepped back slightly, extending one arm.
"And to make sure you don't die so easily…"
Then, without hesitation, he raised his other hand and slit his own wrist.
The blood flowed, hot and thick, dripping onto the floor like crimson ink.
João Paulo tried to scream.
But no sound came out.
Mohammad, with a crooked smile, approached João Paulo, his gaze fixed and piercing. He slit his friend's forehead with the sharp blade in a precise motion; João Paulo's blood began to stream down his face as he struggled to stay conscious.
Calmly, Mohammad dipped his finger into the wound, collecting the blood, and with a satisfied expression, smeared it across his friend's forehead, mixing it with the very essence of his being.
"Now you are my servant," he murmured, his voice deep and filled with cold malice. "By the bond of blood, you will have no choice." Sleep now, João, and when you wake, try to kill me. But I know you will fail.
João Paulo, his eyes heavy and his vision blurred, fought against the impending faint, but Mohammad's command was stronger than his resistance. He fell to the floor, his mind plunged into darkness, with no control over his body, now bound to the enemy of his soul.
Meanwhile, Mohammad turned to Samira, who was still unconscious on the floor. The scene was terrifying, and he seemed to take pleasure in every movement. He forced Samira's mouth open, his eyes gleaming with a cruel light.
"I am Bruno's counterpart…" he said in an almost gentle tone, as if sharing a dark secret. "But you are still my sister, and for that reason… I will give you my eyes, my abilities."
With a satisfied smile, he let the blood from the cut on his wrist drip into Samira's mouth, watching as it slowly slid down her throat, insidiously seeping into her.
"Hmm… this is going to be a fun game with you. Now, all that's left is to alter Bruno's memories so he thinks you're all dead… and soon, there won't be anyone left here but me."
He stepped back, his gaze fixed and calculating, walking toward the Fiorino parked outside.
"Let's see how he reacts…" he muttered to himself as he switched consciousness with Bruno's body.