Murderous rage

The glow of the screen illuminated the faces of four young men in their rooms. On the monitor, a horde of digital zombies surged toward their characters as they tried to escape a nightmarish environment. Alex, Ryan, Tommy, and Isaac formed a flawless team; though they were average students with good grades in real life, in the game world they were expert survivors.

—Left, Tommy! Cover my left or we’ll be overwhelmed! — Alex shouted, maintaining that characteristic serenity that made him, even if he didn’t admit it, the natural leader of the group.

—I do what I can! — replied Tommy, the tallest and strongest of the four, although he often acted on pure impulse.

As their fingers moved deftly across the controls, Isaac, the group’s analytical and strategic mind, kept his eyes fixed on the map. Ryan, the youngest and most charismatic, contributed his keen eyesight to ensure they didn’t miss a single detail of their surroundings.

—Hey, guys! — Alex said without taking his eyes off the horde. —Who remembers the physics assignment for Thursday? —

—Was there a physics assignment? Wasn’t it a history assignment? — Tommy replied, confused.

—I’m still surprised we didn’t fail the year, — Ryan laughed.

—That’s easy thanks to our little brainiac, — Tommy added, referring to Isaac.

Miles away, in a silence far more unsettling than the gunfire in the video game, the Humboldt family was receiving a visitor. Santiago, Helena, and their children lived in an apparent tranquility that was about to be shattered. Santiago’s brother, Uncle Joe, had just arrived from a town on the outskirts of the city.

Joe brought souvenirs for his nephews, but he also carried something invisible and deadly: an illness he himself didn’t know he had. Kevin, the eldest of the Humboldt teenagers, came downstairs out of sheer courtesy to say hello, maintaining his usual air of reserve and indifference toward the family.

Before leaving, Joe asked for a glass of water. When Helena politely handed it to him, a violent coughing fit seized the man. Horror gripped the room when Joe coughed blood directly into the glass, alarming everyone present. Everyone, that is, except Kevin, who remained on the sofa, isolated by his headphones and oblivious to the beginning of the end.

—Well, it’s either being the brains of the group or being the Enderman, hahaha, — Ryan mocked in the voice chat.

—Laugh all you want —Tommy replied—, but when you’re alone and you call for help, I’ll let the zombies eat you.

—Guys, focus, — Isaac interjected. —The physics assignment has been rescheduled, but we have to go to the history workshop. There are no other assignments due right now. —

—Phew! What would we do without you, Isaac? — Ryan sighed with relief.

—Without me, they wouldn’t even pass the year or survive in this game, — Isaac declared smugly.

—But you just lost a life— Ryan reminded him.

—Well, I’m just a kid in a game, I’m not Einstein. I can’t do more here than I can in real life.

—¿So, what’s your contribution? — Tommy insisted.

—I’m the strategist. Or have you forgotten that we passed the previous level thanks to my plan?

Alex let out a dry laugh into the microphone. —Guys, this is a game. We look like women arguing over who has the most painted nails. —

—Don’t tell me you actually painted them, hahaha —Ryan joked.

—Say what you want, — Alex said, regaining his composure, —but honestly, in real life I don’t think any of us would survive. Isaac has a better chance because of his mind, and Tommy because of his strength; they’d get further than I would. —

—Maybe, — Ryan replied, —but that’s what games are for, right? To train. —

Isaac spoke up, his somber tone cutting through the lightheartedness. —The truth is, games are far removed from reality. In the real world, any one of us could be one of ‘them,’ and the decisions would be far more complex. Even killing a family member... I don’t think any of us could bear that. But don’t worry, something like that is statistically very unlikely. —

At the Humboldt house, Isaac’s record was about to be broken. Santiago, alarmed, decided to take Joe to the hospital despite Joe’s protests. Helena, trying to calm the younger twins, Paula and Bryan, who were terrified, took them to the park to get something to eat.

Kevin was left alone at home. He walked to the kitchen and saw the glass with just a few drops of blood. There were so few that he didn’t think much of it. In an act of negligence that would seal his fate, Kevin simply rinsed the glass with some water and drank from it right there.

The next morning, Alex began his routine. While preparing breakfast, he noticed that his favorite cereal was sold out. Since it was still early for school, he decided to walk to the corner store, run by Mr. Miguel, whom he had known his whole life.

When Alex arrived, he was surprised. The store was almost empty. Miguel explained that several people had arrived all at once and bought almost everything without explanation. However, the shopkeeper, knowing how much Alex liked that cereal, had saved him a box. They said goodbye, and Alex went on with his day, unaware that chaos was already brewing in the shadows.

That same morning, the school hallways buzzed with the usual murmur of students, though a somber atmosphere seemed to hang in the air. The group gathered in History class, where Professor Pratt was delivering a lesson that, given the circumstances, felt eerily prophetic.

—Cholera was transmitted, — Pratt explained, scribbling on the blackboard, —primarily through water contamination with human waste. But what’s most fascinating and terrifying is the efficiency of the vectors: a single fly, landing on food for just a few seconds, could spread the disease massively without anyone noticing. The resulting dehydration was so severe that death came within hours. —

In one of the side rows, Kevin Humboldt tried to concentrate, but a cold sweat ran down his back. Suddenly, a sharp dizziness blurred his vision. He ignored the discomfort, attributing it to tiredness, but when the bell rang and he left the room, the world seemed to tilt.

Ryan, who was walking along, distracted and joking with the others, tripped head-on into Kevin. At that moment, Kevin suffered a spasm and coughed violently all over Ryan.

—Hey, watch out! — Ryan exclaimed, more out of surprise than anger. Seeing Kevin’s pale, distraught face, his tone changed. —I’m sorry, are you okay? —

Kevin didn’t answer. With a vacant stare and an expression of utter shame, he turned around and walked away quickly, leaving the four friends bewildered in the middle of the hallway.

As evening fell, Alex arrived home expecting to find his parents bustling about, but instead found only a note on the table. —We had to travel again for some documents. Please go do the grocery shopping for the month, — the note read. Alex sighed; his parents, always-on-the-go secretaries, barely saw him four or five times a month. Although he was used to the solitude of being an only child, that afternoon the silence in the house seemed heavier than usual.

He got his bike ready and headed to the supermarket. As soon as he arrived, the semblance of normality began to crumble. The lines at the checkouts were endless, and the air was thick with a hostile urgency.

—He’s the last one, I saw him first! — shouted a man, struggling with a woman over a can of preserves.

Alex put on his headphones, trying to block out the unusual chaos, and finished his shopping as quickly as possible. When he stepped out into the parking lot, the scene was even worse: traffic on the avenue was gridlocked and people were driving with no regard for the signs, as if they were fleeing from something invisible.

On his way home, Alex decided to stop by Mr. Miguel’s shop to see if everything was alright. He found the old man closing the metal shutters, which was unusual for that time of day.

—Don Miguel! How’s everything going? — Alex greeted from his bike.

—Alex! Everything’s great, kid...— Miguel tried to smile, but a dry cough interrupted him: —Cough, cough...—

Alex frowned as he noticed the man holding his right hand with a stained rag.

Are you alright? What happened to your hand?

—Oh, it’s nothing, — said Miguel, though his voice was trembling. —A homeless man came out of nowhere and bit me. I don’t know if he was on drugs or drunk, but he attacked like an animal. —

—Did you call the police? — Alex asked, alarmed.

—Yeah, they got there fast and took him away. I went to the doctor a little while ago. But it was... weird, Alex. He had black spots all over his body, his skin was greenish, and he was growling... I don’t even remember exactly. I’ll be fine, kid. *Cough, cough*

Alex felt a chill. As if an instinct had awakened within him, telling him to leave—I-I have to go. Get well soon! —Alex said goodbye, pedaling away with renewed urgency.

As he walked on, Alex couldn’t stop thinking about it, wondering if everything was connected: the shortages, the aggression at the supermarket, Kevin’s strange illness, and now Miguel’s bite. However, he calmed himself so as not to seem paranoid and believe it was all just a coincidence—nothing could have been further from the truth. The city’s calm felt like a lit fuse about to ignite a powder keg.

The next day, Alex’s unease turned into a certainty that something was breaking down in the fabric of the city. He got ready mechanically and headed to Las Palmas Square, the usual meeting point where the group gathered before walking to school together. However, the bench where Ryan usually sat was empty.

They waited longer than expected, checking their phones every minute. Ryan not only wasn’t answering their calls, but he wasn’t even reading their messages, which was completely unusual for him. Worried, the three of them decided that being late to class was a fair price to pay to find out what was wrong with their friend.

When they arrived at Ryan’s house, his mother let them in with a tired and worried expression——Go upstairs, Ryan’s upstairs. — Upstairs, they found him lying in bed.

—It’s good to see you guys, — Ryan said weakly, trying to smile despite his pallor. —Dude, you look like an extra in a horror movie, — Isaac tried to joke, though his eyes nervously scanned his friend’s condition. —My whole-body aches... and the dizziness is so bad I can’t even hold my phone, — Ryan explained, apologizing for his silence.

After promising to visit him as soon as the school day was over, the three ran towards the institute, where the principal greeted them with a severe reprimand for their lateness.

The morning passed in a tense calm, until the silence of the classrooms was interrupted by the screeching of megaphones.

——Attention, students. No student is allowed to leave the premises without their parents physically present to pick them up, — announced the Director’s voice, sounding more authoritarian and nervous than usual. —The exits are closed by order of the Rector. —

The room erupted in whispers. People were searching for answers on social media, but strangely, there was no information that could give them a clue as to the seriousness of the measure.

—We have to get out of here, — Alex whispered, looking toward the closed windows. —The walls are eight and a half feet high; jumping them is impossible without equipment, — Isaac quickly analyzed. —But the bathroom… the second-floor bathroom has a window that looks out onto the edge of the outer wall. It’s our only chance. —

The problem was getting there without raising suspicion in a building under surveillance. Tommy, realizing they had to act quickly, took the initiative. He stood up to throw away a bag of chips and, with a calculated movement, bumped into a colleague.

—Hey, be careful! — protested the colleague, swaying in his seat.

Tommy didn’t even stop. He just looked at him over his shoulder with a sneer.

—They were just some chips, don’t be a child, — she said sarcastically.

The boy pointed to his desk, where crumbs and grease had been scattered across the paper.

—They fell on my notebook, you idiot! — exclaimed the young man, his voice rising with the nerves that were already on edge for everyone.

Tommy turned completely around, facing him. He was willing to be the villain if it gave him a chance to get out.

—It’s just a simple notebook, — Tommy replied with a coldness that threatened to explode. —Get over it. —

The argument escalated quickly. The classmate, unnerved by the arrogant attitude, jumped up and gave Tommy a light shove in the chest. It was the spark they needed. Before Tommy could physically retaliate, the teacher’s voice sliced through the air like a whip.

—Enough! Both of you, back to your places right now!

Tommy turned towards her, maintaining that mask of rebellion that hid his true urgency.

—This is none of your business, teacher, — he spat, achieving the desired effect.

The woman paled, outraged by the lack of respect. She pointed to the exit with a trembling finger.

—To the principal’s office, now. Move it, Tommy!

Tommy, with an indifferent gesture, takes his bag and quickly leaves the room.

—I’ll see you in the bathroom, — Tommy muttered as he walked past Alex.

Minutes later, Isaac feigned unbearable stomach pain, managing to get the teacher to let him leave. Alex waited exactly ten minutes before getting up.

—Teacher, my friends haven’t come back and we’re in a state of emergency. I need to see if they’re okay, — Alex said in his calmest tone. —Go, but come back immediately. Class must continue, — she replied, visibly distracted by the news coming in on her own phone.

The encounter in the bathroom was frantic. They had exactly five minutes before the janitor started his cleaning rounds.

Isaac was the first to climb onto the narrow window frame. He looked down, his heart pounding in his chest, but he jumped. His fingers gripped tightly to the edge of the outer wall, and with an agonizing effort, he managed to climb up. Alex followed, helped by Isaac’s hand once he reached the edge.

—¡Come on, Tommy! There are only two minutes left! — Isaac urged.

Tommy, whose great height had become a death trap, was stuck in the window frame. Panic began to grip him as he heard the janitor’s footsteps approaching down the hall.

—Drop the bag, Tommy! Forget it! — Alex shouted.

Tommy dropped his belongings and managed to slide out, but fear froze him before the final jump. With only seconds left before the bathroom door opened, Tommy leaped into the void in an act of blind faith. Alex and Isaac caught him by the arms, preventing him from hitting the ground.

Forming a human ladder, they managed to climb down the wall to the back street. They ran to where they had left their bicycles, avoiding the gaze of the security guard who was also on his phone, aware of what might be happening. Taking advantage of his inattention, they grabbed their bikes and pedaled as if their lives depended on it. Strangely, the surrounding streets were deserted and shrouded in a deathly silence that was more terrifying than any scream.

Without stopping, they headed straight to Ryan’s house, fearing that the silence of the city was the prelude to the storm they were about to witness.

When they arrived at Ryan’s house, the atmosphere was stifling. His mother, with red eyes, greeted them with barely a whisper: —Come upstairs, please... he’s much worse. —

As they entered the room, the smell of disease hit them like a ton of bricks. Ryan lay on the bed, unrecognizable: his skin had turned a deathly white, crisscrossed with veins and black spots that crept up his neck. Despite the obvious pain that kept him immobile, a spark of joy lit up his eyes when he saw them come in.

—It’s so good to see you, buddy, — Alex said, trying to hide the lump in his throat. —Same here... *cough*, — Ryan replied with a labored effort. —Dude, if it were Halloween, that would be the perfect costume, — Isaac tried to joke, though his voice trembled. —You never shower. — —Hahaha... I could say the same about you, but I can’t even stand the smell of you anymore, — Ryan retorted, holding his own until the very end. —You’ll get through this, don’t worry, — Tommy declared, with unwavering loyalty.

Ryan shook his head slowly. —I doubt it, guys. I’m completely spent, — he whispered, pointing a trembling finger at the television. —Haven’t you seen the news? —

Alex turned on the screen. The image of a reporter named Lucia appeared in a studio that was shaking with panic.

—A pathogen of unknown origin is spreading with a speed that defies all medical logic. Given that the infection times vary greatly from one individual to another, — Lucía announced, her voice breaking. —Preliminary reports indicate that the virus acts in stages, systematically consuming the host. —

In a side panel of the screen, leaked, raw, and uncensored medical images began to parade by.

—The initial stage manifests with a violent cough accompanied by hemoptysis; the lungs seem to collapse while the skin acquires a cadaverous pallor and uncontrollable cold sweating. In the middle stage, the circulatory system becomes visible under the dermis; veins protrude like dark roots and black patches appear indicating internal necrosis.

Lucía swallowed, looking towards a point off-camera before continuing in a whisper:

—The final stage is the total loss of humanity: thick foam erupts from the mouth, the eyes become bloodshot until the capillaries burst, and the skin turns a greenish or whitish hue. According to doctors, this is the state called total conversion. —Now we’re going out into the streets with our team in the air.

The broadcast cut to Paul, a reporter stationed on a main avenue. Behind him, the world was crumbling live. The roar of car crashes and the echo of gunfire formed a nightmarish symphony.

—It seems to be a state of uncontrollable rage! — Paul shouted, trying to make himself heard over the roar of an explosion behind him. —There’s no negotiation possible. They attack their victims with inhuman strength, tearing through their tissues until they’re dead. If the victims manage to escape wounded... they’re gone in a matter of minutes. —

The camera shook violently. At the end of the avenue, a tide of human figures, moving with spasmodic agility, toppled a police barricade. The sound of screams became deafening. Paul looked to his right; his face contorted with pure terror.

—Oh no! They’re coming this way! They’re following us! To the van, quick! Open the damn...! — The audio was saturated with the sound of breaking glass and a guttural growl that didn’t belong to anything living. —¡No, NO! DAMN IT, NOOO! —

The screen flickered, returning to the central studio. Lucía was no longer seated; she stood, adjusting her earpiece with hands that trembled visibly. Her makeup failed to conceal the pallor of her face.

—We apologize for the images you have just witnessed, — he said, looking intently into the camera with almost pleading intensity. —The Ministry of Security informs us that what was seen on the main avenue was an isolated incident of mass hysteria resulting from a chemical leak...—

She paused for a second. From the back of the set, distant screams and the sound of breaking glass could be heard. Lucía swallowed and continued in a halting voice, following a script she clearly no longer believed in.

—Due to a critical failure in the high-pressure gas pipeline system at this complex, we are forced to initiate a precautionary evacuation of our facilities. Please remain calm, stay in your homes, and...

A deafening roar shattered the microphones. Lucia’s image was engulfed by an orange blaze that erupted from the set’s ceiling, instantly followed by a massive explosion that shook the foundations of the news headquarters.

The distant explosion rattled the windows of the room. Looking out, he saw a plume of smoke rising, leading him to deduce that this was where the studio had been. —Guys, — Ryan said, his seriousness chilling his friends to the bone, —I’ll be one of them. Don’t waste your time and get out of here. — —Don’t be ridiculous! — Alex exclaimed. —We’ll get out of here together. — —Thanks for believing in me...— Ryan whispered, tears welling in his eyes, —but there’s something I need to tell you. Something I didn’t have the courage to say out of respect, out of fear of hurting you...—

Before he could finish, Isaac called out to them from the window. The three of them looked out and witnessed the end of the world from the second floor: the city had become a war zone. People were running aimlessly, looting was rampant, cars were burning, and hordes of infected were attacking anything that moved in an unprecedented massacre.

—This... this can’t be true. It’s not a video game, — Tommy stammered, backing away in horror.

A thud made them turn. Ryan had fallen out of bed and lay motionless on the floor. The three friends looked at each other, knowing that the time for stats and games was over. Slowly, Ryan began to sit up in jerky movements, while a guttural growl that didn’t belong to his friend began to fill the room.