The Recall Trials
Chapter 46: The Prophecy No One Believed

Chapter 46: The Prophecy No One Believed

The Next Morning came too fast.

One second I was half-asleep, tangled in a memory of warm skin and running water. The next, the sharp, pulsing alarm ripped through the room dragging us all out of sleep, yanking me out of a half-dream, half-nightmare.

I sat up slowly, eyes squinting in the dim, artificial light.

My eyes cracked open. My body was sore, my neck ached. My whole body felt stiff, like it had folded wrong overnight. Maybe it was the cramped mattress. Maybe it was the weight of everything.

I sat up on the edge of the bed, heart thudding like I’d been running.

My clothes were still damp to my back, still wet from last night’s shower... or what came before it. I ran a hand over my face and tried not to smile, but the memory of her was still there...every second of it, still playing on loop in my mind.

I looked up just in time to see Zaara stretch on her bed across the room, her hair messy from sleep. She tied her hair into a loose ponytail, caught my eye and gave me a sleepy smile.

Good morning," she whispered.

I smiled back. "Good morning."

But before anything else could be said...before I could even catch my breath, the speakers crackled to life.

"GOOD MORNING, CONTESTANTS," the voice announced.

"YOU HAVE 48 HOURS REMAINING TO IDENTIFY THE WILDCARD AMONG YOU."

I looked over at the red digital timer on the wall. 48:00:00. Yesterday’s 24 had ticked down fast. And we were running out of time.

My stomach tightened.

Everyone in the room froze...some halfway through stretching, some still tangled in their blankets. No one spoke.

Then Theo’s voice cut through. "And what happens if we guess wrong?"

There was a pause. Like the voice was smiling behind its curtain.

Then the voice came back, this time darker. Probably smirking.

"Punishment worse than elimination. You’ll wish you ended it quickly like the others."

A few people gasped. Someone cursed under their breath. You could feel the shift in the air itself. Fear hung over us like fog. It was becoming more scary.

The voice wasn’t done.

"One more thing," it added.

"There will be a clue. A single clue that might lead you to the wildcard. But it comes... at a cost."

That word echoed. Cost.

That made head’s turn.

My stomach twisted. Of course there was a cost. There always was. This place always made you bleed for answers.

People started glancing at each other.Tension sharpened. You could feel the hunger in the air...everyone wanted to know. The pressure was building. One clue could change everything.

"If you want the clue," the voice said, feeding on the tension.

"Step forward now."

Silence.

I stood up. I didn’t even realize I was doing it until I was already on my feet. Maybe I was desperate. Maybe just curious. Or maybe I was afraid of what might happen if I stayed still.

Beside me, others rose too. Zaara was one of them. Most people did.

More footsteps followed.

The countdown ticked beneath our feet.

47:59:08.

And just like that, the next phase had begun.

"STOP!"

Suddenly, a scream suddenly cut through the tension.

Every head turned.

"Don’t step forward," the voice came again,"It’s a trap. I’ve seen it... I’ve seen how everything ends. Everyone in this room is going to die."

It was a woman with thin, pale, with long tangled hair that looked like it hadn’t seen a brush in weeks. She stood near the back of the room, in the shadows. Barefoot.

It hit me...we’d seen her before, but never noticed her. She never spoke. Never made a sound. Just... existed in the edges, like a ghost.

"What did you just say?" Theo asked, stepping forward cautiously.

"I’ve seen pieces. Dreams. Flashes. Reflections in water, in glass, in sleep. The Wildcard..." she paused, "wears a face you’d follow into a burning house. Smiles like a friend. But once the mask slips?"

She looked up.

"They’ll kill every last one of us."

A few people backed up. Even Theo.

She walked slowly into the light now, we saw her eyes clouded over, almost grey. Not blind, but... fogged. Like she was seeing through us, not at us.

"No one survives," she whispered.

Zaara stiffened beside me

Before the woman could speak again, Valerie stepped in, grabbing her arms.

"Marla, there you go again with your nonsense. You keep talking like that and everyone’s just gonna think you’ve lost your mind."

Jojo turned to her. "Okay... who the hell is she?"

"That’s Marla," she said. "She barely talks. Barely eats. Since we got here, she’s been... chanting to herself, or drawing weird symbols with salt on the table. I thought it was just a trauma or something."

Marla didn’t react.

She just kept walking slowly.

"Two walk among you...one wears the smile, the other wears the truth. One is the mask, the other is the blade. And when the mask finally falls... only ruin will remain."

She looked around the room, like her gaze was passing over all of us...one by one. When it hit me, I felt cold.

"You’ll tear each other apart before the system ever touches you."

Theo didn’t speak. He just watched her.

Marla tilted her head slowly, like she was listening to something no one else could hear.

Then she said it.

"The Wildcard won’t kill to win. They’ll kill to end it."

Everyone was dead silent.

Marla raised one thin hand in the air and whispered something low under her breath. A prayer. Or a curse. I wasn’t sure.

"Truth will rot... flesh will fall... trust no voice..."

Her cloudy eyes locked onto mine.

"...not even your own."

"What the hell does that even mean?" Theo muttered.

Carter crossed his arms. "She’s messing with us."

"I told you," Valerie said. "She’s not well. Ever since we got here she’s been talking to the walls like they talk back."

"She’s freaking us out on purpose," Theo added, trying to laugh it off. "Like some creepy movie extra."

Everyone laughed with him.

Marla just stood there, still barefoot, still calm, staring straight ahead like she could see something none of us could see.

"She’s crazy," Nomi whispered. "She’s just scared like the rest of us."

But something about Marla’s voice... her eyes... the way she spoke like she knew...it refused to leave my head.

Even as people turned away. Even as they tried to forget.

Zaara leaned closer to me.

"What if she’s not crazy?" she whispered.

I didn’t answer.

Because deep down, I was starting to wonder the same thing.