The Recall Trials
Chapter 63: Let’s Dance to Death

Chapter 63: Let’s Dance to Death

THUD.

Pain exploded at the back of my skull.

My vision buckled. My breath caught.

Something slammed into the back of my head.

Hard.

Something heavy like metal. The sound of the metal clattering hit the floor behind me.

A pipe? A crowbar?

I stumbled forward, hand catching the wall. The world spun. Blood trickled down the back of my neck.

My grip tightened around my blade.

I turned around slowly.

"Who wants to die next?"

Nothing but shadows.

The hall behind me was empty.

Or maybe someone was hiding...

Whistle.

I gripped the knife tighter.

"Hide and seek was fun... when we were kids."

I stood still, head tilted.

Then I smiled.

I followed the trail. Drops of red glistened under the emergency lights...scattered like breadcrumbs toward the wall of lockers. Blood.

Dripping down a row of lockers near the hallway wall.

One of them... slightly cracked open. A trail of red dripping down the edge.

I walked toward it.

The hunter doesn’t rush. The prey comes to him.

I placed a hand gently on the locker door. It rattled.

The breathing inside got faster.

I rips the door open.

And there he was.

A teenage boy....around nineteen, maybe twenty. Lanky, dark curls.. His hands are trembling, bleeding.. His hands were bleeding. Probably from trying to force open the vents above him.

He pushed forward, trying to shove past me, but I slammed the door shut, trapping him half inside, half out. His legs bent awkwardly outside. He cried out in pain.

"You should’ve run faster."

Wait....wait....wait...Vincent! Bro please....It was a mistake."

I didn’t say anything.

I just smiled.

Then, I raised the blade, drove it into his shoulder.

He screamed

"AAAAHH—!"

He kicked at me.

But I didn’t flinch.

I stabbed again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Blood splattered my mask. His body sagged halfway out the locker, the door biting into his spine. He tried crawling back inside, but there was nowhere left to go.

He was stuck.

I crouched beside him. Watched the pool of blood.

"Please... I don’t wanna die...."

"You should’ve thought of that before you hit me."

I grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanked his head back, and slit his throat once.

His final breath gurgled out as blood poured down his chest. His twitching slowed.

Then he stopped moving.

I wiped the blade on his shirt.

Left his body sagging halfway out the locker like a broken doll.

That’s four.

And still...

I feel nothing.

Not guilt. Not remorse.

Just silence inside me.

I stood up.

Listened.

No footsteps.

But I knew they were out there.

Hiding.

Shaking.

Praying.

And I was coming.

I stepped out of the hallway again, my boots squishing in blood.

The blade was still slick with blood.

I didn’t whistle this time.

No. This next kill wasn’t going to be casual.

Someone was close.

I turned the corner and stopped.

There she was.

Jojo.

Her back was against the wall. Sweat slicked her skin. Blood marked her arm.

But her stance was solid, like she had been expecting me..

She stared me down with eyes that burned.

Not with fear.

Not with confusion.

But with rage.

"I was wondering when you’d show up," she said.

I raised an eyebrow behind the mask.

Jojo cracked her knuckles. "Let’s dance."

She lunged. Her punch grazed my jaw.

She came again, faster this time.

She wasn’t just good.

She was relentless.

I ducked. Countered with a slash, but she spun and kicked my hand, sending the blade flying across the floor. CLANG. CLANG. CLANG.

It scraped and clattered into the shadows.

I smiled.

Finally... a challenge.

She came at me again.

This time with full force.

Punches. Elbows. She fought like she meant it...like she’d fought for her life a hundred times before.

And I matched her. Blow for blow.

We crashed against the wall. My shoulder slammed into hers. Her knee drove into my ribs.

I grunted. She gasped.

We weren’t fighting to win.

We were fighting to end each other.

Blood on her shoulder.

Our shadows danced violently on the wall behind us.

She kicked my knee.

I staggered.

I elbowed her jaw.

She hissed, spat blood, and came right back.

We fought like animals.

I wasn’t holding back.

And neither was she.

She wasn’t scared of me.

She shoved me back against the wall.

Her fist cracked against my jaw and I stumbled and picked up the blade.

But then I caught her wrist...twisted it hard and slammed her back into the wall.

Her breath left her in a sharp gasp.

I didn’t wait.

"Vincent—please don’t—!"

I grabbed her by the collar, lifted her onto her toes, and drove my blade deep into her shoulder.

AAAHHHH!"

My hands gripped her collar tight.

She struggled, kicking at me, clawing at my mask, cursed and spat on my mask.

"You should’ve run..." I said coldly.

She spat in my face. "Go to hell."

I pushed the blade deeper.

"Already been there."

I drove the blade deeper into her shoulder and twisted the knife. Her voice broke into a cry.

Blood oozed around the blade, warm against my hand.

Her scream echoed down the corridor.

Louder than the others.

I should’ve felt something.

Anything.

But I didn’t.

Then—

Something cracked against the back of my skull.

Pain exploded again at the back of my head.

My grip on Jojo loosened.

She crumpled to the floor, blood pouring from her shoulder.

THUD.

Another hit.

This time I staggered. My mask tilted sideways. My blade dropped.

I turned...my head spinning.

Everything went black for a second. That same high pitch sound I heard earlier.

And then I saw her.

Standing a few feet away.

Zaara.

Her hand clutched a bloodied crowbar. Her eyes widened.

"Leave her alone. You’re a monster."

For a moment...

I didn’t see her as Zaara.

She looked like a memory.

A dream.

Everything swirled.

My knees buckled.

I reached for her... or maybe I just wanted to stop her.

My vision blurred completely.

But it was too late.

My body gave in.

Everything went black.

Zaara’s face...

It was the last thing I saw before the darkness swallowed me whole.

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