Bruno and João started hearing screams coming from the house next door. They instantly recognized those voices — Pedro and Guilherme, Bruno's cousins — lost and desperate, with no idea what to do. Swallowing back his tears, Bruno forced himself to keep it together. He stood up and sprinted toward his cousins' house. It was right next to his, and he jumped over the lower part of the wall separating the two properties.
Inside, Pedro was already struggling with all his strength to hold down his mother, who was now fully infected. But Pedro still thought she was just drunk out of her mind or high — nothing unusual in their family. Guilherme, on the other hand, was convinced she was possessed, completely taken by demons, and in a panic he kept trying to call their aunt Nádia, Bruno's mom. He thought she wasn't home since he'd seen her car parked on 40th Street earlier. What he didn't know was that it had been Bruno's uncle Jackson driving that car — and that Nádia was already dead, lying in the house next door. Meanwhile, Cecília's guttural screams drowned out Bruno's own muffled sobs, pushing the chaos to the edge.
"Mom, come on… cut that shit out! You smoke some crack or what? Help me out here, Gui, for fuck's sake!" Pedro shouted, his arms shaking as he tried to keep her pinned.
Guilherme, still high and foggy from smoking weed all morning, stared back helplessly. His voice cracked with panic as he asked,
"Bro, what the hell you want me to do?"
Pedro's arms were trembling, the strain almost breaking him. He shouted again, desperate,
"I don't know, just fuckin' help me, man! My arms are giving out, dammit!"
That's when Bruno burst through the doorway. He froze for a split second at the sight — his aunt Cecília, clearly infected, thrashing against her sons' hold. They hadn't realized yet what was really happening. To them, it was still just some kind of drug-fueled breakdown.
Guilherme finally looked up and noticed Bruno — covered in blood from head to toe. His eyes widened in shock as he blurted out,
"Holy shit, bro… what the fuck happened to you?"
Bruno ignored Guilherme's question, having no patience for explanations. He grabbed a spoon from the sink and, with a brutal motion, shoved it into his aunt's mouth. Her bite was so strong that her front teeth snapped shut and broke. Pedro and Guilherme stood frozen, not knowing how to react to what they were seeing. Before they could scream, curse, or protest, Bruno—out of time for discussion—laid out the brutal reality of their situation:
— I think after this scene it's easier to understand that your mom is infected. This disease I told you about yesterday? It's a full-blown holocaust. Here's the deal: from now on, either we kill her, or she kills you. I'm not gonna force anyone to do anything, got it? But if she infects or kills any one of you, I'll be the one to finish her myself.
Pedro, incredulous, refused to accept Bruno's words. He couldn't believe something like this could happen so fast. He looked at Guilherme and, trying to keep control, said:
— Gui… you're kiddin' me, right? Help me here!
His mother's face—now totally monstrous—was coated in the same black slime Bruno's mother had been spewing. Her breathing, like a raging boar's, was nothing like the behavior she showed when she was just high. Bruno, once again confronting his cousin with reality, tried to make him see:
— Give it up, Pedro… your mom's gone, man…
Guilherme, finally grasping the severity—the broken teeth, the lifeless eyes—started to believe Bruno. He watched his mother's frantic movements, trying to bite anything that came near. When it hit him, he collapsed. He fell to his knees and began to cry, too weak to deny what was happening.
Pedro, stubborn as ever, insisted his mother was only high and that didn't justify killing her:
— Bruno, don't be ridiculous, man… you're messing with me, for real. My mom ain't dead! She's probably just super stoned or doped up…
Angered by Pedro's denial, Bruno lost his patience and shouted, furious:
— Look at me, Pedro! She's finished! She's infected—look into her eyes, damn it… look at her mouth foaming that nasty black slime… Christ, there's nothing left to do, and if you let her go now she'll for sure try to kill you, you idiot! Listen to me, damn it: let her go and I'll end her myself… Now, Gui, run to the Fiorino and Jão goes with you.
For the first time, Pedro really noticed Bruno's state. Seeing him sweaty and covered in blood, he started to accept that maybe Bruno was right. Reality closed in, and he felt the weight of what was happening.
Bruno, without hesitation, went to his aunt, grabbed her arms and pulled them free from Pedro's hold. He flipped her over and slammed her onto the floor, pinning her arms behind her back. She was face down, and Bruno sat on her back to hold her still. He looked at Pedro with urgent intensity and insisted:
— Look at me… I'm soaked in blood — blood from a bunch of people, even my mother and sister's blood is on me!
After a long struggle, Pedro finally broke, his voice choked as he said:
— I can't… I can't kill my mother.
Bruno looked at him with an understanding that had nothing soft in it, and with relentless determination he signaled for Pedro to hold his mom's arms. Then, with his left hand, he pulled a stainless-steel knife — a Tramontina Century 8 — from the sink. He said, flat and cold:
— I'll be quick…
Bruno pressed the tip of the blade to his aunt's back and, with precise force, drove it toward her heart, piercing it. Pedro, frozen, began to cry silently, soundless, as he watched his mother die.
Bruno then got off her and placed a hand on Pedro's head, trying to give some small comfort:
— It's okay… I'll take care of you guys…
With shaking hands, Pedro pulled the knife from his mother's back and went to the sink to clean it. After that, the two of them headed for the Fiorino, the weight of what they'd just done settling between them like a stone.