E aí galera! Estou colocando todo o texto aqui para quem quizer acompanhar essa história maluca, porém interessante... Até mais!
Hello guys! I'm putting the entire text for those who want follow this crazy but interesting story ... See you!
Chapter One: A Real Hallucination
He was dirt. Dirt with the deepest red blood. And in his mind he couldn't figure out what happened. In his right hand, a knife showing this rage in blood and behind him a dead body of a young bealtiful lady, surrounded by blood, the deepest red blood. He thought he would never been there, but some of the objects were familiar. He wondered what a hell he was doing there in that dark house, covered by dust. Outside the window, a silent and hot jungle. Was he in another country?
All of a sudden he realized that he was dreaming and that reality was going to be over,then he headed for the forest trying to reflect on what he should´ve done and what he could´ve avoided : A Brazilian panther sauntering close by. That, he thought, he should avoid. It seems to be just a bad dream... a scary nightmare... But in fact it's his memories...He is a real killer... And he is haunted 24-7 by his memories... Memories of bloody crimes... And his memories will never leave him alone. This is his fate.
Yet he now had to flee through unknown territory. "It all," he digressed, "comes with the territory. You kill a bit before the bit kills you--I knew, I knew I'd have to get around to the rain forest business... if only the fuzz quit chasing me, then I'd pull another bank job. A big one... but where could one possibly pull a big bank job, in São Paulo city?"
He is still lost in his deranged world or so he thought as he struggled through the dense jungle, his oversized trousers tripping him up as they fell around his ankles. Now he knew he'd have to get around the subject of giant swarms of five-inch-beaked mosquitos which incessantly raided him like vindictive airplane fighters on a dogfight. He struggled on, nevertheless, only to realise that his life was hanging by a thread,he had no choice but to cut his own arm so that some of his blood could put those scary creatures off the scent.He managed to run away from that place while those carnivores stuffed themselves.
He was so fascinated with his own blood... That red colour... He was completely obsessed with that scarlet fluid
At that moment, he started to run extremely fast, even more than "Run Forrest, Run", and a lot of his blood was spreading all over that place with those familiar objects. What was he doing there again? Was he back to the crime scene? But, wait a moment... where´s the dead body of that young beautiful lady?
He's completely confused. He does not know where the body is... he does not know his own name... What the hells is happening? He thinks to himself. One more time it seems to be a nightmare... Yet he wonders if he's in fact hallucinating. Maybe he's just a schizophrenic lunatic in a straitjacket in an asylum full with what meaty morcels they could get their teeth on. But fast he ran, leaving the feeding beasts behind. "Phoooo," he exclaimed, "thank God these beasts missed me!"
Up overhead hovered a helicopter. Unsteadily at first, then firmly, its blades revolving madly to keep it from falling down. "Do I see rescue at last?" he hoped. He thought of home, of the kids and after a deep breathe, in a little while, he was still thinking and also staring when the heaven became really dark and a tremendous noise could be heard. At that moment, an enormous whole could be seen on that dark heaven and something like a rock started to fall down, hit his head and afterward he woke up early in the morning and realised that everything he had been going through was just a nightmare, things went back to normal as time passed and he suddenly felt that drinking too much could be dangerous sometimes,Red Bull gives you wings but they can take you too high.
And then he decided to watch TV. What a surprise! A police program was showing a crime scene and a dead body of a beautiful lady was being shown in that chanel. He started to be afraid, his hands were sweating and suddenly he decided to run away without a destiny and some blood was coming out of one of his arms again, when out of the sky came this big boulder of a rock, the biggest, nightmarishly fiery rock a human being had ever dreamed of setting eyes on. His eyes followed it. By the size and bulk of it he instantly realized it might devastate an area greater than municipal Altamira, Pará. This he mentally calculated about as quickly as the Tom Cruise's Rain Man character counted match sticks no matter how many landed on the floor. "Omigod," he shouted, "where can a poor soul find shelter from this big, falling fiery rock?" And then it hit on the ground.
The impact turned him in pieces with a strong blast. Dark. Everything was dark, but his conscience still remained. In a huge limb,a insane laugh,a strident and disquieting laugh as the devil himself echoed in his head. And in an huge effort , he tried to guess where he really was. His only hope remained on that weak flame of lucidity.
So, he opened his eyes.He was in a completely dark room, except for a strong light pointed in his direction. When he tried to move his arms to protect himself from that annoying bright, he realized that his arms were bound. Lying on a stretcher, he heard beside a familiar voice: "Have you had fun enough, Agent Jackson? How about moving to the next phase of the experiment?" While he tried to vomit, Jackson realized that everything really been nothing but a hallucination caused by a unhealthy serial killer he was investigating. Yes, now he remembered. He had come too close to The Elevator killer.
He left the dark room and called two people. The first one, Mr. Douglas Quaid from "Total Recall" and the second one, Mr. Jason Bourne from "The Bourne Identity". Now, he was ready to start. After the calls, he checked his wrists for what bruise or injury that the ropes may have caused them. Nothing. No hurt. No bleeding knuckles. "For Christ's sake, I gotta get the Elevator killer before he sends one more person down the elevator shaft!" he exclaimed silently.
"Mr. Bourne, you have a visitor," the room intercom cackled. "Who wants to see me?" he asked the intercom operator. "I asked for no room service--" he said. "Sir, your doddering great-great-grandmother says if you don't see her, she'll bash your head in with the umbrella she carried all the way over from Drycreek, Oklahoma."
Out on the snaking pavement walked busy denizens, their stuffed suitcases swinging tersely at each step. Now and then a car would honk and a man with a keen and clever eyes had arrived. The help that Jackson needed was already there. But for now, still confused by the effect of drugs, with that cellphone in his hand that he had never seen before, he decided to follow the dark corridor that led to only one direction: An opening for an elevator shaft. Where the hell was he? Where is the Elevator Killer? Does he set him free? Interrogations permeated his mind. Perched on a ladder in the empty pit , Jackson thought, how he got rid of that madman? . Suddenly Jackson had escaped somehow from that location. Why did he not remember it? Would It be the effect of drugs? Had someone helped him? Then he stared at...