It's funny, when your life is ending, a film really plays in your head. I always thought it was nonsense when people said that, but now that my blood flows like water, I feel like an idiot for doubting it. My name is Xango. I've lived a life of regrets, but as we do every day, I kept moving forward. You may think that this is a grandiose name for a man who is drowning in his own blood, but I chose it on a whim.
My original name, the one chosen for me by my "parents", was Arthur. I was an orphan who remembers nothing about those who put me into the world, and frankly, I couldn't care less. The life I've lived has made me hate them for a long time, but today it's just indifference. I grew up in an orphanage, a miserable life in a miserable place for a child. I don't want to imply that all those places are terrible, they are indispensable, but the "Lion of Judah" shelter was a special place. It was an orphanage that could easily embody everything that is bad about this type of environment.
I was treated very badly there: by the adults, by the children, but above all by the principal. You might think that once you got out of that place, everything would get better, but you're wrong. Firstly, I was never adopted, I can't tell you why, sometimes someone would come along who wanted to start the process, but ended up choosing another child. Secondly, because disaster struck the orphanage before I came of age.
Monsters started appearing everywhere. Yes, you didn't get it wrong: Monsters, like in those fantasy stories. At first, the Monsters resembled common animals, but they were clearly detached from the reality of the local fauna.
Imagine in Brazil, which is where I'm nourishing the soil with my blood now, if bears started appearing, or perhaps wolves or lions. That would drive biologists and Ibama (the Brazilian Institute for the Environment and Renewable Natural Resources) crazy, but that's what happened. They weren't like normal animals, they were more ferocious and voracious. Attacking and destroying everything in their path.
Of course, it didn't take long for countries, including Brazil, to deploy forces to contain these creatures. In Brazil, the National Guard was deployed to exterminate them in the Pantanal, which is where these animals first appeared, even under the protests of some NGOs and Ibama. Who could blame them? Everyone thought that these were creatures that had escaped from illegal captivity in the region, but everything changed when part of the national force was slaughtered. The media and the internet panicked when most of the soldiers lost their lives. Of course, they did manage to contain the animals, but the losses were enormous.
Now you might think: "Ah, Brazil, huh? They don't even have the capacity to contain a few animals", but I must tell you, my country wasn't the only one to suffer heavy casualties. Even China and the USA suffered irreparable losses. Some survivors said that those animals seemed possessed; the bullets didn't penetrate the skin properly, and even on the verge of death, they didn't run away, they kept attacking. Months passed and then again, strange animals appeared, but all over the country.
The national force was still recovering from the casualties, so they were resistant to going into battle. The president of the time sent an order to the army to confront the creatures immediately. The result was much worse than the first time, as there was the issue of many more animals appearing, but it also seemed that the Brazilian army had other concerns. Ranks and pensions were the Brazilian army's main concerns. Increasing their already absurd benefits came first; protecting the population came later, if there was time. In some states, such as Ceará, Mato Grosso and a couple of others that I can't remember now, they managed to contain these animals. In others, however, the situation got completely out of hand, leading to the loss of countless lives during the attacks.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
It was during the Second Wave that the orphanage where I lived was destroyed, around 2018, it doesn't matter now. Homeless and still a teenager, what was left for me was to live on the street. Surviving on scraps and humiliation, like a carrier of a contagious disease. With the help of good people, I managed to find a place to live in a shelter, but I was humiliated by a piece of bread and a cold shower. There was a priest in São Paulo, I suppose, who treated the homeless with a certain dignity. For doing precisely what the god he followed commanded, however, he was treated like an enemy by disgusting people. Unfortunately for me, I lived in Ceara, so I couldn't care less what happened in another state when I was deep in the pit.
It was only when I became an adult that things seemed to start getting better for me. I got a job at a nearby shoe company, a miserable and exhausting job, but I managed to at least get out of that shelter and rent a room. My life was like that for years, from home to work and from work to home, 8 hours a day, 6 days a week. The place paid very poorly, and the people there wanted you to feel very grateful to them for giving the bare minimum, as if they were doing you some kind of favour.
Around the beginning of 2020, an evacuation notice was issued at the company. Monsters had invaded the place and were killing some people in the other shed. The police were on their way, but it would be a long time before they arrived. Needless to say, chaos ensued among the employees, no one wanted to risk bumping into a monster. The staff rushed to the emergency exits and were crowded there in a push-pull trying to escape. I stayed where I was, firstly because my legs refused to obey. Second, to follow the wave would mean either being crushed to death or dying in the claws of the animals that would be attracted by the noise.
The people were making more noise than the machines themselves, which were already very noisy. I don't know if you've ever visited an industry or seen it on a video, but I assure you that working for two years in a noisy place can affect your mind.
When my legs finally started to obey, I grabbed one of the iron bars we used to hang the rolls of material. It was a bit heavy, but it served perfectly as a stick. Now, all I had to do was run the other way and pray that no animals appeared on the way.
— Oxóssi, my Father, protect me! - I prayed, while kissing a symbol of the hunter Orixá.
As I passed through the corridor between the machines, I could see some people running in terror, and that's when a large figure of a dog passed by. It was huge, maybe half the height of a horse, but tall enough to be seen above the sewing machine benches. Screams came from that direction, but I couldn't see anything because the power went out at that moment. Seconds later, the emergency lights came on, and that's when another figure, perhaps bigger than the first, jumped out in front of me.
The dim light hardly let me see anything, but I could see the thing's glowing red eyes. They glowed brightly, like the illumination of a traffic light; its growl was intimidating, even under the ambient noise of the machines. My whole body trembled and fear ran down my spine as I stared at the thing.
— Why did you abandon me, Father? — I whimpered.