The Recall Trials -
Chapter 64: The Monster I Loved
Chapter 64: The Monster I Loved
Zaara’s POV
My hands were trembling.
Blood dripped from the crowbar I didn’t even remember picking up.
I dropped the crowbar.
Jojo stood beside me, panting hard, one hand pressed to her stabbed shoulder, the other gripping Vincent’s lifeless arm.
Neither of us said a word.
He didn’t even look human.
We just dragged him.
Vincent’s body was heavy as hell, his mask still smeared with dried blood. Jojo’s shoulder was bleeding out, and I could barely hold my grip. But we kept dragging him...one step at a time, back into the main trial room.
His boots scraped against the metallic floor, leaving a thin red trail behind.
He wasn’t dead. But he was out cold.
And I prayed..God, I prayed he stayed that way.
We dragged him through the hall and into the main room.
That’s when I saw it.
The main room... it wasn’t the same anymore.
Bodies.
Scattered like discarded trash.
Everywhere.
Some slumped against walls with their throats slashed.
Some curled up in corners like they died hiding.
One girl had her eyes still open, staring right at me with a look that would haunt me forever.
Jojo paused, coughing blood. "God... what did he do...?"
I stared at Vincent.
At the boy I used to know. The one with the soft smirk, the boy that always reassured he’d protect me.
Now all I saw was a monster in a silver mask.
We dropped him. His body hit the floor.
Jojo collapsed beside him, holding her stabbed shoulder, but I... I couldn’t sit.
I couldn’t breathe.
I left jojo with Vincent’s unconscious body
I turned and ran.
Maybe I was looking for something that would make sense.
Something human in all of this horror.
Through the dark hallway. The door to the locker room creaked open when I pushed.
The smell hit first. Rust. Decay Blood.
I stepped inside, my fingers brushing the edge of the lockers as I walked past.
That’s when I saw him.
Aaron.
Slumped over. His eyes was still opened.His face was frozen in fear.
His blood pooled out beneath him, soaking the tiles. Like Vincent had enjoyed it.
I covered my mouth.
I wanted to scream, but the sound wouldn’t come out. I stepped over his body, barely able to see through the blur of tears.
I kept walking.
I didn’t even know where my legs were taking me.
Then I turned a corner—
And my world shattered.
Asha.
She was lying on the floor like she’d fallen asleep there.
Except... she wasn’t sleeping.
Her throat was slit.
Blood soaked her neck and the floor beneath her.
Her hands were still raised like she’d tried to block it.
Like she was begging him.
Her hair was soaked in blood. Her face... her beautiful face was pale.
No.
No no no no no...
I dropped to my knees beside her.
"Asha..."
My voice cracked.
I touched her face. It was cold.
My hands were shaking so bad I could barely hold her. But I did.
I cradled her head against my chest.
"No... please..."
My breath hitched. Something ripped inside me.
"This isn’t real," I whispered. "You were supposed to make it. You—"
I choked.
"I trusted him..."
She was GONE.
And he—
He did it.
Vincent.
The boy I trusted. The boy I loved.
I wrapped my arms around her. Rocked back and forth with her limp body pressed against my chest.
I looked at her wrists, the bruises. The cuts. The way she must’ve tried to fight him off.
And the rage came.
The kind I had never felt before. The kind that burns so deep it replaces the grief.
She didn’t deserve this.
No one did.
And the worst part wasn’t just that he killed her.
It was that he didn’t feel a thing.
He didn’t blink. He didn’t pause.
He stabbed her like she meant nothing. Like I meant nothing.
I screamed.
My voice was so hollow it echoed through the hallways. I clutched Asha tighter, my nails digging into her torn uniform.
Tears poured, hot and endless.
I loved him.
I really loved him.
I screamed.
The kind of scream that rips your chest open. That tears through everything you’ve buried inside.
I held Asha tighter and screamed again.
"You were my best friend... you were my sister..."
The hatred... it didn’t just grow.
It consumed.
I kissed her forehead one last time.
Then I laid her down gently and stood up.
My knees felt weak. My heart felt numb. But my soul burned.
There was nothing left to say.
He took her and left behind this mask. This cold, empty... thing pretending to be human.
Whatever they did to him...whoever turned him into this.
They will pay.
Even if I had to burn every sector to the ground.
Even if it meant I had to kill Vincent with my bare hands the next time he opened his eyes.
I will make them pay.
The first aid box felt heavier than it should. My hands were trembling. Blood—Asha’s—coated the handle. Her scream still echoed in my skull, that sound of pain when Vincent drove the blade into her shoulder.
I dropped to my knees beside her. She was propped against the cold steel wall, her breaths shallow and uneven. Sweat beaded on her forehead, mixing with dried blood and. Her lips were pale.
"Jojo," I whispered, opening the box with shaking fingers. "Hey. Stay with me."
She coughed, as blood dribbled from the corner of her mouth. Her hand gripped mine hard enough to hurt.
"I’m here," I said, pressing gauze into the wound. "I’m not leaving you, okay? Just....just hold on."
Jojo gave a broken laugh. "I’ve... I’ve had worse."
The hallway was too quiet. That silence after violence. After screams.
I reached for the antiseptic. Her eyes rolled back for a second...but then she blinked, like she was fighting sleep.
She looked at me.
"Time?" she croaked.
I turned toward the blinking red numbers across the screen above the hallway exit.
00:27:41
Less than thirty minutes left.
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