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Chapter 10: Project Déjà Vu
publish date:
2026-04-22 23:30:30
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Deja vu: Blood Memory Chapter 10: Project Déjà Vu
The thermal cutter hissed through the steel door like a hot wire through wax. Sparks showered the dark room, illuminating the rows of glowing server racks that hummed like a hive of digital bees."Alessia, they’re through!" Lorenzo shouted, his back against a console, his breath hitching in his chest. He was reaching for a piece of jagged metal to use as a shiv.I didn't move. I was staring at the central monitor. My fingers were dancing across a keyboard that didn't use letters—it used symbols, a language of pure logic that felt more natural than English."Wait," I whispered.The door buckled. The heavy slab of steel hit the floor with a bone-jarring thrum. Three operatives in white VANTA "Bio-Containment" suits stepped in. They weren't holding guns. They were holding injectors."Subject A, stand down," the lead operative said. His voice was muffled, but I recognized the cadence."Hello, Dr. Aris," I said, not looking up from the screen. "I remember your hands. You were the one who h
Deja vu: Blood Memory Chapter 9 – Captured Truth
The red emergency lights strobed against the reinforced glass, turning the "Social Calibration Chamber" into a rhythmic, bloody nightmare. The hiss of the sedative gas was a death rattle in the vents, but I didn't breathe it in. My body had already adjusted, my lungs constricting by instinct, my metabolism slowing to a crawl to filter the toxins."Alessia, the vents!" Lorenzo coughed, pressing his sleeve to his face. He was Subject B; his resistance was high, but not like mine. He was the anchor; I was the blade."I’ve got it," I snapped.I didn't run for the door. I ran for the server pillar in the center of the room. My fingers moved like spiders over the sleek casing. I wasn't guessing. I was remembering the layout of a facility I had supposedly never seen. Level 4. Sub-sector Theta. Three floors below the Nairobi surface."Override initiated," I whispered.The heavy steel door didn't just open—it blew off its hydraulic hinges with a violent thud."Move!" I grabbed Lorenzo by the h
Deja vu: Blood Memory Chapter 8: The Pattern
The silence in the Social Calibration Chamber was heavy, the kind of silence that precedes a landslide. Lorenzo was still standing by the glass wall, his shadow stretched long and distorted across the floor. He looked like a man who had just watched his last bridge burn.I didn't wait for his answer. I didn't need it. My hands were already moving, my fingers tracing the sleek, seamless edges of the wall panels.Subject A: Environmental Awareness 92%. The voice in my head was a cold, digital hum, but it was becoming mine. I could feel the electricity running through the walls. I could sense the data packets pulsing through the fiber-optic cables beneath the floor."Alessia, stop," Lorenzo said, his voice cracking. "If they see you tampering with the interface, they’ll trigger the sedative.""They’ve been sedating me for three hundred years, Lorenzo. A little more won't hurt."I found it—a hair-thin gap in the casing. I jammed the silver letter opener—which I had somehow palmed from the
Deja vu: Blood Memory Chapter 7: The Hunger
The room was a cube of reinforced glass and brushed steel. It was beautiful in the way a scalpel is beautiful: sharp, clean, and designed for a single, bloody purpose.They called it the "Social Calibration Chamber." I called it a cage.I stood in the center of the room, wearing a thin, charcoal-grey bodysuit that felt like a second skin. My hair was pulled back, my face scrubbed clean. I felt light. I felt dangerous. And I felt a hollow, aching void in my gut that no amount of food could fill."Subject A. Subject B has entered the chamber," the intercom droned—Silas’s voice.The heavy steel door slid open. Lorenzo stepped in.He looked different without the bespoke suits and the Italian leather shoes. He was wearing the same tactical grey I was. The fabric strained against his shoulders, outlining every corded muscle of a man built for violence. His eyes were bloodshot, tracking me with a frantic, starving intensity."Alessia," he breathed."That's the name on the file," I said. My v
Deja vu: Blood Memory Chapter 6: The Man in the Shadows
The elevator didn’t ding. It exhaled.A hiss of pressurized air escaped as the doors slid open, revealing a man who looked like he had been carved out of the very shadows he stepped from. He wasn't wearing tactical gear. He wore a bespoke charcoal suit, a silk tie the color of dried veins, and a pair of silver-rimmed glasses that caught the flickering emergency lights of the penthouse.He didn't look like a killer. He looked like an architect."Subject A," he said, his voice a smooth, cultured baritone that sent a tremor of pure, instinctual dread down my spine. "You’ve made a mess of the retrieval team. Impressive. Your neural pathways are re-mapping faster than the simulations predicted."Lorenzo stepped in front of me, his Beretta leveled at the man’s forehead. His knuckles were white, his chest heaving. "Stay back, Silas. Or I’ll end this cycle right here."The man—Silas—didn't even glance at the gun. He adjusted his cufflinks with a slow, agonizing deliberateness. "Lorenzo. Still
Deja vu: Blood Memory Chapter 5: Lorenzo Remembers
The red laser dot danced across my chest, a silent promise of a hollow-point bullet. I didn’t flinch. I had seen that dot in a dozen different centuries, on a hundred different versions of this same night.But I had never seen Alessia look at me the way she was looking at me now.She wasn’t terrified. She wasn't the sweet girl from the Pipeline neighborhood who used to hum old Swahili songs while she cooked for me. She was standing in the shadows of our shattered penthouse, her eyes reflecting the cold blue light of the city, looking like a goddess of war."Down, Lorenzo," she said again. It wasn't a plea. It was a command.I ignored her, my finger tightening on the trigger of my Beretta. I leaned into the laser, my heart thrumming with a sudden, violent memory of my own.I am in a forest. It is cold—colder than Nairobi could ever be. I am wearing leather armor. I am holding a sword that weighs more than a man’s life. I am looking at a woman with Alessia’s face. She is wearing a crown
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