The Recall Trials
Chapter 73: Fifteen Steps to Hell

Chapter 73: Fifteen Steps to Hell

Just her fucking arm.

"OH MY GOD!" someone screamed.

The room exploded in chaos.

Severed. Burned black at the wrist. Charred bones poking out from the flesh.

He was still holding it.

Just the hand.

For a moment, he didn’t realize it. His eyes were locked onto it, blinking, confused.

Then the scream came.

From him.

The boy dropped the arm like it burned him. It landed with a on the metal floor of his platform.

The next thing we heard was gagging. A girl near the edge of the volcano tripped backward in panic, her foot slipping—she screamed, but it was too late—

SPLASH!

Into the lava.

The other jumped without looking, landed on a flickering platform that wasn’t real.

Another scream.

Another splash.

Someone vomited.

The heat roared up like the volcano itself was laughing...mocking us.

"IT’S A TRAP! THEY’RE TRICKING US!" someone shouted.

"Oh my God, she was just standing there...she didn’t even jump!"

The sound of flesh hitting magma is something I’ll never forget. It was like meat thrown on a sizzling grill..multiplied by hell.

The lava responded...roared, almost like it was feeding. Steam exploded upward. The heat intensified. The room smelled like burning death.

Another contestant dropped to their knees on their platform, sobbing.

And all I could do...

Was smile.

This wasn’t just a game.

It was perfectly designed punishment.

The timer kept ticking.

15:42... 15:41... 15:40...

And still, the room burned.

The volcano’s core pulsed red-hot, casting dancing shadows across the pale, terrified faces.

I watched the blood smear across the metal edge of the boy’s platform.

His hands trembled. His lips quivered.

The platform under my feet pulsed gently. Still safe. For now.

But one thing was clear...

Hesitation kills.

Mistakes kill.

Fear kills.

And in this game?

Everything kills.

But nothing exposes people faster than fear.

I squinted through the haze.

The heat and smoke curling upward from the molten death below.

I focused anyway, counting in my head.

One... two... three...

Twenty platforms total.

I was on the fifth.

Which meant fifteen more to go between me and the exit.

But that didn’t mean fifteen chances at survival.

Some of them were fake...holograms masked as salvation. I’d seen what happened to those who missed the difference. I could still hear the wet slap of flesh against lava, the screams echoing off the metal walls like a sick laugh track.

I narrowed my eyes and stared ahead.

Then I saw it.

The real ones had shadows.

The holograms didn’t.

Each real platform cast a subtle shadow beneath it, just slightly off-center due to the angle of the flickering red glow from the volcano core. The fake ones? They floated too perfectly...no shadow, no weight.

They didn’t reflect light correctly.

It was like spotting a ghost pretending to be human.

Close, but not real.

There it is, I thought.

The pattern. The truth hidden in plain sight.

A smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth.

That was it.

The trick wasn’t instinct.

It was observation.

Behind me, I heard someone gag. Someone had puked from the smell, the heat, the horror. Then....slip.

A scream followed. Then a splash.

Someone had stepped in someone else’s vomit. Lost their footing. And gravity had done the rest.

More ash. More death.

I didn’t flinch. Just turned slightly enough to scan the remaining players behind me.

Zaara.

She stood two platforms behind, slightly hunched, her hair soaked in sweat, breathing hard.

She was two platforms behind.

Her eyes locked onto mine.

No words.

No scream.

Just... that stare.

A million things hidden behind it.

I turned slowly, fully facing her. My foot shifted on the platform, the metal warm against my sole, the hiss of the lava gurgling below like it was impatient.

She still didn’t look away.

Her lips parted slightly...maybe to say something. Maybe not.

I could see the grief etched into her features. The fear. But layered on top of that was something sharper.

Rage.

Betrayal.

Confusion.

She had followed me. Jumped onto the exact same series of platforms the others had died on.

She was staring at me like I was an answer she didn’t want, but couldn’t ignore.

Her foot was stained red...maybe blood, maybe dust. Her hands shook, but her jaw was set. She didn’t blink once.

She hated me.

But she wasn’t ready to give up on me.

Not yet.

"Vincent," she said finally. "Why are you doing this?"

I tilted my head, like I couldn’t quite understand the question.

Like the words were in another language.

She stepped forward...one shadowed platform between us now.

"I know you remember," she said. "Or you’re fighting it. Either way, this isn’t you."

I looked at her.

And said nothing.

Because the truth was... I didn’t know who she was talking to.

I didn’t remember the boy she once knew.

Didn’t feel anything for the pain in her voice.

Nothing.

All I knew was the next platform ahead had a shadow.

And I wasn’t dying here.

Without a word, I turned around.

Her breath hitched behind me, but I didn’t stop.

Because this wasn’t about love. Or pain. Or regret.

This was a game.

And in games like this?

You don’t break.

You don’t feel.

You win.

I was the only one left in front now.

The others had already been swallowed..one way or another.

Some misstepped.

Some panicked.

Some jumped blind and paid the price.

The lava didn’t discriminate.

I stood at Platform Sixteen.

Four more to go.

The timer burned behind me in blood-red digits:

06:12... 06:11... 06:10...

I exhaled slowly, the heat prickling my skin like invisible needles.

Then I moved.

One clean jump.

Then another.

My body was in rhythm now. I didn’t second-guess, didn’t stumble.

By the time I landed on the final platform, the exit door stood ahead. I was safe.

No more heat. No more screams.

Just silence.

But I didn’t get to bask in it for long.

A sudden scream cut through the lava room like a blade.

"Vincent!"

I turned instinctively.

Zaara.

She was on the last platform behind me.

The one right before the exit.

Her body had slipped sideways, her foot hanging off the edge, her fingers clawing at the metal surface.

The platform tilted slightly under her weight, beginning its timed descent.

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