Infection

The Transformation Pandemic

The year was 2060.

Inside her house, Malu felt suffocated in a way she could no longer endure.

Malu Carl Boiler, twenty-eight years old, had purchased an old house filled with stories — the only kind she could afford within her budget. The city was Kambarrar, home to nearly five hundred thousand inhabitants, heavily industrialized — and Malu, like many others, worked from home due to a poorly understood pandemic that had recently reached the city.

Very little was known so far.

Thousands of people had already been transformed. The virus seemed to trigger profound biological alterations in individuals, driving them into a bestial condition. Authorities began confining the infected and declared a state of siege for an indefinite period.

During her breaks, Malu usually called her brother, Orácio.

“My brother… I can’t stand being stuck at home anymore,” she said.

“Easy, sis. I know it’s not easy, but friends of mine are being transformed and taken away by the police… can you imagine that?”

“My God… where is all of this going to lead us?”

“Let’s pray. God will bring us comfort, sis.”

“If anything happens, call me, okay? Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Take care.”

“You too.”

Malu had a forty-minute break. Fifteen of those minutes had already passed during the call with her brother.

She stood up and walked to the kitchen. The old wooden floorboards creaked beneath her feet, as if trying to tell her something — something she had no intention of understanding.

In the kitchen, she ate fruit: papaya, bananas, grapes. She took a deep breath, searching for emotional control. She tried to reconnect with the feeling of being alive while watching time slip away in silence.

When the break ended, she returned to work.

Already immersed in a support session, Malu provided remote technical assistance. At that moment, she was helping a client named Amadeo adjust the antivirus system in his home.

That was when the sound came.

Knocking at the front door.

She excused herself quickly and ran to the living room.

Terror settled into her mind the instant she realized: three infected individuals were trying to enter her house.

She had the sensation of hearing her name — she couldn’t be sure. Her breathing grew shallow, her hands sweaty. She thought about calling Orácio… better not worry her brother.

She grabbed a chair, wedged it against the doorknob — and shouted:

“What do you want here? Go away!”

Then she heard a voice, coming from one of them — she couldn’t tell which — whisper:

“We need help.”

At least, that was what she thought she understood.

“I’m sorry… I have difficulty walking, and my brother is a police officer — he should arrive any minute. You can wait for him out there if you want.”

She approached the door. She didn’t know how she had managed to speak to the infected at all. She listened… and realized they were moving away. She looked through the peephole and saw them leaving.

Malu thought:

Somehow they can still speak… they can still tell right from wrong. I mentioned a police officer and they left. Should I have helped them?

Back at her desk, she turned on the news through her system.

⸻

TV BRIX NEWS

The mayor of Kambarrar, Martha Luca, issued a statement this Wednesday, October 26th, 2060:

“We will be deploying sixteen mobile units per region: four in the north of Kambarrar, four in the south, four in the east, and four in the west.

I want to share very positive news that motivated this action.

An infected individual has a forty-eight-hour window during which recovery is possible. Therefore, if someone near you shows symptoms such as high fever, reddish skin patches, confusion while speaking, or irritability, do not waste time. Take them to a mobile unit immediately so they may receive treatment and recover without lasting damage.

Help us save more lives.

Stay home. Extreme caution is necessary.

The Kambarrar City Hall is doing everything possible — and impossible — to contain the chaos. Please do your part as well.

Thank you.”

Malu’s mind immediately returned to the moment she had mentioned her police officer brother — causing three infected individuals, who might have been saved, to flee from her door.

Her chest tightened. Discomfort spread through her body as she tried to reassure herself:

I couldn’t have known. I was terrified. I’m at peace.

That day, she handled five residential antivirus update cases.

By late afternoon, she felt exhausted and discouraged — quarantine was suffocating her.

She showered, prepared something to eat, and considered going outside for a short walk, even if only around the neighborhood. But fear — like an authoritarian voice inside her — prevented her from leaving.

Lying on the couch, she picked up a book to read. She couldn’t focus; her mind was too restless.

She grabbed her phone and searched for news about Kambarrar.

She found reports stating that three fully transformed, bestial infected individuals had attacked a couple. Evidence suggested they had come from the Moça district — Malu’s neighborhood — and had attacked four university students walking along Santiago Avenue: Maria da Graça, 21; Lúcia Moriati, 20; Agata Dacotta, 21; and Francisca Baurraus, 22.

The four young women were still missing.

The mayor requested that anyone with information call number 187, designated for such incidents.

Rumors described the infected as resembling human wolves — though no one wanted to look long enough to confirm.

A growing discomfort filled Malu’s chest. She stood and went to prepare tea.

Lost in thought in the kitchen, she failed to notice the water boiling for too long. She refilled the kettle and waited again.

Her inner agitation became harder to contain. Sirens echoed outside. A helicopter flew over the neighborhood. She thought about the four girls — and about the young men who had come to her door.

Something inside her told her the girls had been attacked and infected by them.

Her refusal to help had become an inner monster she did not know how to silence.

Disturbed and frightened, she lay down and tried to sleep.

Like a gift from the unknown — she managed to fall asleep.

⸻

Morning

Malu woke thrashing, crying — dreaming she was being attacked by three infected. She sat on the bed, vulnerable, her body heavy.

She looked at her work computer on the desk and felt suffocated, unmotivated to work. Malu was tired. She had been trapped at home for over a month. Her company, AstraBio Advanced, had placed all customer support employees on remote work due to the pandemic.

She got up, made coffee, and drank it as if it were her last.

She prepared to begin work again, suffering — not because she no longer liked her job, nor because she rejected AstraBio Advanced.

But because she felt imprisoned.

The Transformation Pandemic, as local news had begun calling it, seemed to compress Malu’s soul, distorting her reality.

She questioned whether the world around her was real. She lived with a fear that no longer fit inside her.

Is this really necessary?

She found herself thinking about going outside for a walk — suspecting it might make her feel alive again.

(Continued)

With everything happening, at that moment, she needed to help people — she needed to work.

And so she did.

First appointment.

Doctor Walter Assis. She assisted him, rebuilding his entire internal security system. The man was deeply grateful, thanking Malu with such intensity that it made her pause and reflect.

This allows me to help people… This is a hellish paradox.

Another appointment.

Márcia Fran — her smart home system was failing. Malu accessed Márcia’s system, located the error, and corrected it. The woman, extremely satisfied, not only thanked Malu but awarded her ten stars and left a comment that touched her deeply.

Malu took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a few seconds.

Then returned.

Another appointment.

Abgail Bensson explained that infected individuals had broken her home security system.

Malu felt a strange discomfort growing inside her.

Still, she contacted the local maintenance team and dispatched them to Abgail’s residence.

And so her day continued until 4:00 p.m., when she stopped, took a shower, and faced the front door.

The Moça district was famous for its embrace of nature — tree-lined streets, houses surrounded by flowers, greenery everywhere. Malu felt she needed that.

She opened the door and stepped outside, breathing the open air. She felt lighter.

She looked both ways. Nothing.

She began walking, intending to circle the block.

She walked down the street, breathing deeply, observing the loneliness around her. Reaching the end of Monsenhor Street, she turned right onto Santiago Avenue.

That was when she saw them.

A group of transformed infected stood ahead, staring directly at her.

She didn’t think.

She turned and ran.

Moments later, she realized they were running too.

Fear surged through her. She considered screaming — better not. She wasn’t that far from home.

She ran faster than she ever had, refusing to look back.

She burst inside her house, locked the door, and immediately heard scratching from outside. The sound made it clear they were far faster than she was. If her house had been any farther away…

She would have been lost.

She wedged the chair against the doorknob again.

She entered one of the bedrooms, locked the door, blocked it with another chair, and put on headphones.

She didn’t want to hear anything.

After roughly thirty minutes, Malu removed the headphones.

Silence.

She opened the bedroom door, looked toward the living room entrance, approached cautiously, and checked through the peephole.

Nothing.

It was 5:40 p.m.

She felt vulnerable, unsure what to do — when suddenly the doorbell rang.

The sound shook her soul.

She approached the door.

It was Orácio.

“My brother! What are you doing here? You didn’t say you were coming — is everything okay?”

“Yes, sis. I missed you.”

“How did you leave home?”

“I just felt like seeing you. I got in the car and drove to Moça. We’re not that far apart.”

“It’s so good to see you… I’ve been feeling so lonely,” Malu said, lowering her head.

“Sis, come here…”

Orácio’s voice carried comfort.

He hugged her tightly, and the embrace felt like an internal stabilizer.

Malu felt better.

“Thank you, my brother. I really needed that. I think… I’ve been through a lot here.”

Orácio asked for a sweater. Malu went to a bedroom, grabbed a red hoodie, and handed it to him.

“Are you cold, Orácio?”

“Yes. Aren’t you?”

“No… actually, I feel a little warm. Come on, let’s eat something.”

In the kitchen, she prepared grilled sandwiches and orange juice for both of them.

While eating, Malu noticed Orácio’s breathing seemed heavier.

“Are you tired?”

“No.”

He shook his head slightly faster than normal.

“What was that?” Malu laughed.

“I don’t even know.”

They both burst into laughter — something that made Malu reflect on human contact.

I really needed this.

But the comforting feeling soon gave way to something stranger. Something wrong.

Orácio tried to say something but hesitated.

“This sandwich is delicious, sis!”

“You weren’t going to say that. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know… something wouldn’t let me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Malu… check if I have a fever.”

He stepped closer. She touched his forehead.

“Orácio, my brother—”

“Calm down, sis, I’m—” His speech faltered.

“Orácio, you’re scaring me. What’s happening to you?”

He lifted his shirt.

A ten-centimeter scratch stretched across his abdomen.

“Why didn’t you show me sooner? We have to go — come on!”

“I… can’t…”

“Come, I’ll help you.”

Carefully, Malu helped him into the car and drove to the nearest mobile unit in Moça.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

Orácio no longer responded.

At the mobile unit, paramedics acted quickly. They placed him on a stretcher and rushed him into a prepared vehicle.

One approached Malu.

“You are?”

“Malu Carl Boiler.”

“He’s your brother, correct? Orácio Carl Boiler? I have good news. You may return home — you did an excellent job. He will recover. Based on our evaluation, he has been infected for about ten hours.”

“Oh my God…”

“Stay calm. He will recover. It just isn’t an immediate process. Initial procedures are underway, and then he’ll be transferred to the hospital. In one or two days, you’ll have your brother back, good as new.”

“You’re Jacinto Dias…” she read from his badge. “Jacinto, thank you. Truly.”

“It’s nothing. Go home and rest, miss.”

Malu returned to her car feeling lighter, satisfied. She had done the right thing.

As she stepped out at home, she noticed a young man — handsome, pale.

“Miss… could I have some water? Could you help me?”

“Of course, dear. Come in.”

She opened the door and entered. The young man followed as she went to the kitchen.

When she returned with a glass of water, he had entered the bathroom.

She approached slowly.

“Your water…”

No response.

Only silence.

A heavy anxiety invaded her chest.

She looked down.

Drops of blood on the floor.

Her heart tightened.

Did I do the right thing? I’m not sure…

The silence lasted too long.

Then—

The sound of wood cracking exploded from inside the bathroom.

Malu did not knock.

⸻

Not far from there — Maria das Dores Hospital.

Orácio left surgery conscious, thinking about his sister. Grateful, joyful, eager to see her again.

One day passed.

That morning, Doctor Marcos visited and discharged him.

“I owe my sweet sister everything, doctor. She saved me.”

“You are blessed, Orácio. A sister like that is a divine gift. Go home, stay safe, and please remain indoors.”

“I promise. I’ll stay at her place — we’ll take care of each other.”

“Excellent idea.”

Orácio left the hospital and called a taxi. Malu did not answer her phone.

The taxi drove him to the Moça district.

He stopped in front of her house.

The door was slightly open.

He pushed it gently.

His heart raced.

The bathroom door was destroyed.

Malu’s bedroom door remained closed.

Blood stains marked the floor.

A note caught his attention.

He picked it up.

There is nothing more to be done — leave as fast as you can, please…

I love you.

Malu.

His chest tightened. He tried calling her name — but no sound came.

He listened.

From the other side of the door… heavy breathing.

Orácio closed his eyes.

He stepped back.

Then another step.

He walked toward the exit.

As his hand touched the doorknob—

A guttural roar echoed through the hallway.

Not feral.

Not human.

Orácio did not look back.

T H E   E N D 🌹