The Recall Trials
Chapter 57: The Memory That Won’t Die

Chapter 57: The Memory That Won’t Die

"We have so much in common, you and I. You just don’t know it yet." The voice laughed.

I didn’t answer. I didn’t even breathe too loud. I just stared at the mirror in front of me...one of those black mirrors that’s probably a window. Someone’s watching. Someone’s always watching.

My mouth was dry. My throat was burning.

But I forced words out anyway.

"...Who the hell are you?"

Silence.

Then the lights dimmed....

"Some call me the Aetherion.

I’m the architect. The mirror. The memory collector."

My fists clenched.

"You run the Trials."

"Oh, Vincent. You think too small. I am the Trials."

I stared at the ceiling, trying to find a camera, a speaker ...something.

But I was talking to air.

"You see, Vincent... people enter the Recall Trials thinking they’re here to survive. To win. To change their lives.

But the truth is...:we’re the ones learning from you. Your memories, your mistakes, your sins. They feed the system. Every trauma, every fear, every love you failed to protect...we harvest it."

"And you, wildcard... you’re special. Your mind doesn’t just survive the game. It reshapes it."

"I’m not playing your game shitty anymore. You’re piece of shit."

Without warning, the lock clicked free, and I stumbled to my feet shakily, barely finding my balance.

"Oh, but Vincent...

You’ve already played.

The only question is...are you ready to see the part you forgot?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" I snapped.

The lights above dimmed again, this time slower. The walls stuttered and flickered like a dying screen.

And then... it started.

Flickers of light.

Flashes of pain.

Images bleeding through the screen...not memories, invasions.

A woman’s voice. Crying.

Glass shattering.

I stumbled forward, widened my eyes as the scene played across the walls like a ghost I never wanted to meet again.

Right there was my mom.

Gasping. Driving.

Her hands on the wheel.

The last glance she gave me was full of fear and full of love.

Then... the crash.

The moment that ruined everything.

Her lifeless body slumped over the airbag. Blood dripping.

"No..." I whispered, stumbling backward. "No, no, no—"

The memory exploded on loop. Her head slamming forward. The windshield shattering. Her final breath..

I screamed, "Where did you get this? How the hell did you get this...HOW DARE YOU!"

The voice didn’t flinch. If anything... it smiled.

"You remember now, don’t you?"

The voice slithered from every corner like it lived in the walls.

"Have you ever once asked yourself... why you survived?

Why only you walked away from that crash without a single scratch?"

My heart pounded against my ribs.

"You’ve spent all these years blaming yourself, haven’t you? Just like your father always did.

You feel the guilt bleeding into your bones.

You replay it every night, don’t you?

The sound of her breathing."

I stumbled back, covering my ears.

"You’re the reason she died, Vincent.

You screamed in the car, remember? You distracted her. You...panicked.

She was too busy trying to calm you down...

And that’s why she lost control."

My knees buckled.

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t see through the heat in my eyes.

"Don’t you dare," I growled. "Don’t you dare use her to guilt trip me."

"Oh, but this is your memory, Vincent. Not mine. I didn’t invent this pain.

You did.

I’m just helping you face the truth you keep running from."

My head throbbed.

It felt like a thousand knives of noise were stabbing into my skull....like I was trapped inside a high-frequency scream no one else could hear.

"You think you’re a hero? That you’re better than me?" the voice asked, now mocking. "You think being quiet about your demons makes you innocent?

No, no. You’re not innocent, Vincent.

You’re dangerous. And deep down... you like it."

"SHUT UP!"

"You are like me Vincent. You just don’t see it yet. But your father does. That’s why he stopped looking you in the eye."

"I SAID SHUT UP!"

I staggered forward, fists clenched, vision spinning, my whole world tilting.

"My mind is not your playground," I spat.

Then I growled...

From my gut. From the pain.

"Me and you are NOT the same!"

The lights above flickered wildly.

Sparks showered down.

"I’m not like you," I said, teeth gritted. "I don’t hurt people. I don’t manipulate them. I’m not the monster my dad sees. I trying..."

I paused.

Breathing hard. Shaking.

Lost in rage. In grief.

"I’m still trying to be good. Even if it kills me. I’m not perfect."

Silence.

Then the voice chuckled.

"That’s the problem, Vincent.

Good boys never survive the Recall Trials.

You think love will save you? You think loyalty makes you noble?"

I clenched my fists. "I’m not a coward like you mother fuckers. Hiding behind your damn machines. Your shit masks. Your disgusting voices. If you’re so sure about who I am...fucking come out! Show your damn face! You son of a bitch."

The room snapped.

Then the pain hit.

Like someone shoved electricity straight into my brain. My bones.

I screamed.

My body jerked back, staggering. My spine arched. The floor tilted under me.

White noise screeched through the room like a banshee.

I pressed my hands to my ears, but it only got louder.

STOP. STOP. PLEASE STOP

I collapsed to my knees, body shaking, muscles twitching like they were being torn apart from the inside.

STOP. STOP. PLEASEEE

"This is the real you, Vincent," the voice whispered now.

"Not the hero. Not the lover.

Just a scared little boy in a broken man’s body... pretending he doesn’t want to break everything around him too."

My vision blurred. My chest heaved.

"I said I’m not like you," I hissed. "I can never be. I would never be."

"You already are," the voice replied.

"Come," the voice said.

"You wanted answers. Now earn them."

As the darkness swallowed me, I felt it...not just pain, not fear...

Just the echo of her voice, the sound of the crash, and the truth I kept running from.

"The worst kind of prison isn’t made of bars...

It’s the memory you can’t stop reliving."

And right then, I wasn’t sure what hurt more

What they did to me...

Or what I might really be underneath it all.

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