Terrorist Apocalypse

There is a war between good and evil constantly, but everyday life is so fast-paced that evil often goes unnoticed and when you least expect it, it may have taken over a large part of society and the population.

• Action and Adventure

								
It seemed to be a day with some expected anxiety, after three days of rest,
or rather, almost three days. Tomorrow was my day of duty, but, on the last day,
bored at home, on a Sunday that wasn't to my liking, divorced and away from my
son who lived in another state, in the middle of the Sunday night, the only consolation
would be beer. As I staggered, the weekday newspaper's Sunday night schedule
began, with scenes that caught my attention.
Not on TV,
because I didn't have one, but on my cell phone propped up on a five-core tripod,
bought at the Joana Bezerra metro station, in Recife, when I went to visit my son,
which, by the way, are rare doses of pamine in my life.
Let's say, small monthly drops, when I'm with him.
The reports were strange, the focus was on Rio de Janeiro.
“Wonderful City” for those who walk around, because for those who lived there it
was a real chaos. The report showed the people in panic in upscale neighborhoods,
such as: Leblon, Ipanema, Gávea, Jardin Botânico and Copacabana. It had a
profound impact on me, as I have relatives and friends in the region and it was very
unusual for these areas to be so severely affected.
In the course of the report, it explained that several criminal factions came
together to dominate Brazil, and that the epicenter began there. According to some
criminal leaders, they became tired of hiding and being cunningly pursued by public
security forces. of Covid-19, which affected the frequency of visits to prisons,
sometimes caused by the disease, sometimes due to the isolation decreed by the
government. However, many times in life we don't want freedom, but rather comfort,
perks. 
Businessmen were being co-opted, arguing that taxes would be reduced and their
profits would be increased. Nightclubs and bars could operate 24 hours a day,
meaning there would be no more assaults in these establishments, and drug use
would be allowed for people over the age of fourteen. Prostitution would also
become Brazil's cultural heritage.
Apparently the carnival would be all year long, without end. For many businessmen
it was advantageous for negotiation, because the vagabond generally had a say,
unlike politicians.
I confess that I was perplexed by what they were giving visibility to, but, as
the media didn't have much credibility, I thought it was something isolated and that
probably the press was trying to increase the publicity, covering these matters. In
fact, there was already talk about the social isolation of good-natured people in
some specific points in the city's condominiums. They were already trying to
convince some marginalized people Oh, I wish Better to give in to diluted confrontations and possible deaths of innocent people. That's
right, the Government had already asked for leniency.
The matter started to get more interesting, when unfortunately my phone rang; a call from
a private number.
—Who?—said the voice on the phone.
— I'm the one who should ask. You're calling me from a private number and you
still don't know who it is! — asked Pereira, impatiently.
—Excuse me, but is Mr. Pereira speaking?—the voice on the phone
insisted.
— Yes. Come on, I'm very busy — Pereira responds in a visibly irritated voice.
— Right. Mr. Pereira, I belong to the public security center, called
“The resistance”. We negotiated for you to leave your house and come to the Itaitinga prison complex. 
— Are you going crazy? I only work tomorrow. And I also don't know of any
nucleus called “Resistance”.
—It's not for working, it's for living.—Well, go and relax. One hour like this, going for a jog—Pereira. 
He hung up, pressing hard on the call end button.
—Every guy who shows up! Do you want to know something? I'm going to have
three glasses of YpiócaGuaraná, because I've run out of cans, and then I'm going to sleep. Mixing
it helps me get a good sleep. Today it's a pain. Before going to sleep, I set the alarm for 5am, took a shower because the heat was hellish,
and turned on the fan at the highest speed. because you could even pay in installments and lose
sight of your credit card. Now turning it on daily was a great thing. Soon, I passed out in the room. The house was rented, simple but very spacious in the José
Walther neighborhood, with little furniture, simply necessary. A bed in the corner of one of the
rooms, with a simple wardrobe, in the kitchen a refrigerator and a four-burner stove, with a small
wall table for two people. In the living room, three places to hang the hammock, but with an old
hammock In the covered garage, an economical and efficient 150C motorcycle to take you from
point A to point B. The house had three more bedrooms, but with nothing inside ;it was of no use,
for just one resident.
Around four o'clock in
the morning, a strange noise inside the house. At first I found it strange, I thought it was something
in my head. I threw the sheet over my face and tried to go to sleep. The disturbing noise, with a
kind of dragging of furniture and low conversations, between people, was constant, seeming to be
real. I got up scared. A little hungover, still from the drink I didn't.
It allowed me to have such firmness in my steps, which were slow and fearful, because even when
I was awake they continued. Sometimes I took some psychotropic drugs to sleep, but this time I
had drunk so much that I thought it was better not to mix it with Zolpidem.
I was scared, but also courageous, I was afraid it was some poor soul wandering around my
house. I never joke about these things, I even have a lot of respect, probably out of fear.
Walking slowly, as soon as I passed in front of the first room I was startled, half speechless.
There was a beautiful woman, with straight hair and many indigenous features. She looked at me
with a smile on her face. I, without understanding how she had stopped there, spent a few minutes
thinking about how this had happened.
I ended up waking up a little more and noticed that she was wearing a very common outfit,
which was stored in my memory. It was a white shirt, with orange shorts, like the uniforms worn by
inmates in the prison system. It was getting even more confusing. Until I looked at her ankle and
there was an electronic monitoring ankle bracelet. I walk.
— Hey, bro? All up — the woman greeted. — Do you know where there's a knife or
scissors, I don't think I'll need that anymore — pointing to the oven.
I just looked without responding, I followed in disbelief to the kitchen, kind of in a state of shock
like a zombie version of the expectation of drinking water and The Walking Dead, at waking up from this nightmare. Soon, when I drank water and looked ahead, there were about
three more men and two more women in their room, all in the same uniform.
Several mattresses and sheets were scattered around the living room and in the other
rooms, as well as some newer hammocks hanging. I grabbed a knife from the drawer and walked

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