The Recall Trials Chapter 61: The Hunter Has Arrived

"Two contestants have earned immunity."

The voice echoed across the walls from the speakers.

A spotlight slamd down on a guy. His fists were clenched.

Another beam found a blonde lady. Her hair packed in a ssy ponytail. She flinched slightly, but stood still.

"The winners of the wildcard wager," the voice continued.

Gasps rippled across the room. People started whispering.

Jojo turned sharply. "Theo?"

Soone else murmured, "Nomi..."

"They nad the wildcard correctly," the voice said. "The rest of you... failed."

Suddenly, the side doors slamd open.

Two masked guards entered and grabbed Theo and Nomi.

They grabbed Theo first, yanking him by the collar. He snarled and tried to fight, but they slamd him against the wall and dragged him toward the exit.

Nomi scread. "Let’s go of him!"

She didn’t even get the chance before another set of arms closed around her waist, hauling her out like she was weightless.

Everyone stood frozen. Zaara took a shaky step forward, her face went pale.

Jojo whispered behind , "What the hell is going on?"

"The next ga," the voice announced, "is called... the Hunt."

"It’s not a ga," Carter muttered. "It’s punishnt."

I took a step backward. No one noticed. Their eyes were still locked on the doors where Nomi and Theo vanished.

That’s when I heard it.

The Voice.

Not from the speakers.

From inside .Deep inside my skull.

"Locker 001. There’s a gift for you. Put it on. And follow the instructions exactly."

My body moved on instinct. Like a puppet with invisible strings.

While the speaker voice above kept explaining the ga to the others, I slipped away, unnoticed.

Down the corridor.

To the locker room.

The lights here flickered like a warning.

I walked straight to Locker 001.

The mont I opened it, my breath caught.

There it was.

A silver mask.

Slick. Cold. The surface shimred under the lights. The expression carved into it wasn’t a face....it was a threat. A twisted smile, stretched too wide. Hollow eyes that reflected nothing.

I’d seen this before. I knew I had. But I couldn’t rember where.

Then the ringing in my head started.

Louder.

Screeching.

Like a scream behind glass.

A high-pitched whine. Like a siren inside my skull.

I gasped and grabbed my temple, stumbling back, dizzy.

Then I saw it.

Taped behind the mask: a folded note. I peeled it off and opened it.

Black ink. Scrawled handwriting.

"Wear it. Beco what they fear. Let the hunt begin."

Beneath the mask, hidden in the locker... was a weapon.

A hunting knife. Serrated. Long. The kind used in old slasher films. With a handle wrapped in snakeskin.

I didn’t hesitate.

I strapped the weapon to the pocket of my jumpsuit.

Slipped the mask over my face.

And when I opened my eyes again... the lights snapped off.

Darkness swallowed the room.

A red light flooded everything. Sirens howled.

And in that mont, I beca the Hunter.

My boots echoed on the tal floor as I walked to the main room’s entrance.

"Ladies and gentlen... the hunt has officially begun."

The doors of the main room creaked open.

A long corridor stretched beyond it.

Everyone turned at the sa ti.

They saw .

They saw the mask.

But more importantly...they saw my na printed across my chest on my jumpsuit.

VINCENT.

Gasps shot through the room like a gunshot.

"Vincent?" Zaara whispered, stepping back. "No. No, what is this?!"

Jojo’s lips parted. "It can’t be..."

I said nothing.

I just raised my voice behind the mask.

"You have sixty seconds to run."

"Hide wherever you want."

"Because when the clock hits zero... I’m coming."

Panic erupted.

People scread.

"This is your final instruction."

"You have until sunset. Six hours. Hide. Survive. Or fight—if you dare. When you hear him coming, make no sound. Make no move. Or make peace with your end."

A sharp beep.

00:00:00

Then—

6:00:00

5:59:59...

The countdown began.

And the panic exploded.

People bolted, stumbling over each other.

Carter shouted sothing and started limping outside.

Jojo didn’t wait.

She grabbed Zaara’s wrist. "We have to move....now!"

Zaara hesitated, her eyes still locked on . On the silver mask. The hooked blade.

Zaara shouted, "Vincent, look at ....fight this!"

Jojo tugged harder. "Zaara, let’s go. He’s not who you think he is anymore."

"Asha...Luca" Zaara scread as Jojo yanked her.

They ran together toward the exit....but as they reached the threshold, Asha and the chubby boy froze.

They didn’t follow.

Too slow.

Too afraid.

Asha gasped. "Where are we going? What if there’s sothing worse out there?"

The chubby boy shook his head, widened his eyes. "I’m not dying out there. No way. I’m staying where there’s walls."

They turned around.

Ran back.

Slipped behind a set of overturned chairs, crawling low across the room’s edge. Their breaths were shallow. Hands shaking. The boy whispered, "Just be quiet... maybe he won’t co in here."

So scattered toward the stairwells.

Others dove into rooms. Lockers. Hallways that led nowhere.

"Let the ga... begin."

I tilted my head beneath the mask.

My voice dripped with cold steel, echoing from the mask like it belonged to soone else:

"Ready or not..."

"Here I co."

I scraped the blade against the wall. tal scread. Sparks flew.

I started whistling.

The blade felt light in my hand.

Too light.

It should’ve been heavier—heavier with consequence, with hesitation. But I felt nothing. Just air, blood, and purpose.

Whistle.

Just two notes. Like I’d done this before.

I walked slowly. The soles of my boots echoed through the cold, empty room.

I could hear the blood in the walls. The silence before fear took shape.

Screech.

The first restroom door groaned open.

Empty.

So was the second.

The third had a drip-drip sound. Like soone trying too hard not to cry.

I smiled.

Door four.

A girl.

She was curled under the sink, her knees drawn to her chest, hands trembling over her mouth. Mascara stained her cheeks. Salt water streaked her face.

Her eyes t mine.

Big. Brown. Terrified.

"No, no Vincent please don’t. I didn’t do anything....please."

I tilted my head.

I didn’t speak.

Just knelt down in front of her.

She sobbed harder, shaking so violently she could barely form words.

I pressed one finger to her lips.

"Shhh..."

"Don’t scream," I whispered.

"It’s louder when you do."

Then...