Round 2 - I can feel coming in the air (LYNCH KILL)

They had to do something with the bodies. Leaving them upstairs to rot was not an option, so they did as Mr. Green had suggested. Take them down to the vault and at least that way they could contain the smell…and the blood. They had gathered in the long hallway located a floor below the ground floor, just outside the large steel vault.

The vault had been a special custom order, as are all vaults. After the initial design of the vault is approved, the actual bank is built around it. Bank vaults are typically made with steel-reinforced concrete and rely on its immense thickness for strength. Mr. Green’s vault was made of modular concrete panels using a special proprietary blend of concrete and additives for extreme strength. The concrete has been engineered for maximum crush resistance. A section of one of its panels was 6 times stronger than the middle of the century made vaults. The lock itself was a multi grid steel rod system, digitally controlled and on its own power source. It had locked down with the rest of the bank, but Mr. Green could still access it. Life was more important than money (it was all insured) so shutting the power down did not leave the bank staff in a predicament if approached by armed men. That situation did not apply to Mr. Green and the bank’s occupants. At this point, they’d be lucky to all get out alive – so what would the money be worth to them now?

Not fucking much.

Mr. Green entered the 16 digit code and the vault door locks began to recede into the door itself; lock knocking, steel clanking, and locks unlocking echoed down the hallway. Turning he let the group of bank customers gently bring in the bodies of the three victims, laying them at the back of the 30x30 foot vault. The walls were lined with security boxes and wrapped stacks of bills. The customers ignored it all as they exited and returned with the bodies of dead security guards as well. Mr. Green began to feel the tell tale sign of anxiety reaching tumultuous proportions as he heard the soft mew of a woman crying. Instead of exiting the vault, the rest of the mob pushed forward and any hopes of them getting out of this situation calmly died…so to speak.

‘This is bullshit.’

More crying and not so subtle murmurs of cursing ensued.

‘Let’s just go,’ Mr. Green suggested.

‘They’re dead. All of them and we can’t even get to the other part of that poor woman’s body,’ another voice chimed in.

‘Please…this isn’t helping…’

‘Where was everyone?’

‘What? Where were you?’

‘Me? What about him…or her?’

‘Yeah, what about her?’

Mrs. Ruth Shapiro had been looking down at the bodies quietly, trying to blend in with the shadows, but thoughtful in her gaze. Quietly she spoke to no one in particular.

‘So alone. What is a person to do when they’re…so alone?’

Silence fell in the vault and it snapped her out of her reverie. She looked up to see some of the patrons staring at her. She shrugged helplessly.

‘I don’t know anything about this.’

‘Really? Where were you when he died?’

‘I don’t know…’

More voices began to chime in, accusing fingers pointing, when the crowd began to move back, instead of toward her.

‘Wait!’

Suddenly the mob pushed out, carrying Mr. Green in their wake out the door and someone pushed him up against the wall.

‘Shut it.’

Mr. Green paled. ‘That room is air tight. That’s maybe…an hour’s worth.’

‘Shut. It.’ Another voice demanded.

‘Wait, no!’ Ruth Shapiro began to run toward the door, dropping her bag and glasses onto the ground as the door shut tightly on her, the electric seal hissing, creating the vacuum.

: 59 minutes…

Mr. Green stood outside the vault door as the rest of the mob began to walk away down the hallway. If he opened it, they’d throw him in there…or worse. He turned slowly, thankful that he could not hear Mrs. Shapiro’s screams through the thick steel.

: 0 minute

Mrs. Shapiro grabbed at her throat, trying not to panic, but wasted what seconds left of air she might have had by sucking in as much of it as she could. Her vocal cords were too badly damaged to create any sound from escaping her tortured, wailing mouth. Her nails were thick with her own skin and blood as she desperately tried to gasp for air, but there was none. Reaching up to the door, she pounded on it as she slowly slid to the ground, her chest heaving nothing but silence.



The security guard’s bodies began to twitch and one sat upright…then another. Together the two stood and walked slowly over to Mrs. Shapiro.

‘Well,’ said one guard, pushing his thick red hair back with his stiff fingers. ‘I did not see that happening.’

‘Really,’ replied the other with an unmistakable monotone voice.

‘You don’t find this interesting at all?’

‘No I do, because that’s what I do…you’re enjoying this too much.’

Raising a carrot red eyebrow, the dead security guard smiled. ‘Too bad for Mrs. Shapiro. Her worst fear, dying…all alone.’

The other security guard’s eyes went blank and its body sank to the ground lifelessly. The red head tilted his head and did the same.