In silence I often find solitude; it is a place to clear my head and finally get my thoughts in order. I enjoy the long car rides to work. Taking the scenic route allows me to reflect on the life I live now and the one I could've lived. Maybe it isn't so bad, I mean everything is relatively peaceful and the scenery is OK at best. Trees are old and rotting, towering over the road, their brown leaves providing a calming sensation. A vast and colorless sky hung above me, but it has always been that way. The sun is still here as expected, providing its sparing warmth. It's almost enough to bring a smile to my face… almost. If nothing is around, then nothing can disturb you. The only thing that mattered was the silence, silence I could keep to myself. As of now it feels like I never get time for my own life anymore. It's nothing but work this or work that.. I get behind so easily. Then it feels like I have no motivation to finish it. I have a whole stack of papers on my desk back at home. Being a teller isn't exactly the gig I thought it was. The idea of seeing new faces was why I took it. But what is a new face if everyone is the same blank canvas? So now I keep my distance from people because when you're like me, you don't "Build relationships", You get used to a typical want and give with most. Someone wants something, so they pretend to be your friend to get it out of you. And you're the sorry son of a bitch who lets 'em.
Those around me don't understand why I am like this, but they're also the same people who feed off togetherness. Most days, the only time I have at home ,when I am not working, is for sleep. Sleep meant a chance to disconnect from… everything. Which I was okay with, for a while. But even amidst my broken pieces, I strive to be put back together, to change.
Is it too much to ask to be like everyone else? I want to break out. Break out of the chains that bound me to be ME.
Who is Victor Chase to the average person? Just a fucking loser; a 19 year-old who slits his wrists. That's what people say at least. I feel like my own happiness would change others' opinions of me. People are usually attracted to positivity but I reeked of everything negative. Like when you try to connect the same sides of two magnets together. It pushes away…
But for me to be happy is for me to be meaningful to someone. The issue is.. I have no one. To be someone to have it all in this society, is to be a part of the Aegis Division (or AG). The headquarters of any Supe to ever make a headline. That dream died ever since I hit High School. I wasn't exactly gifted… but sometimes I like to think I could make it as a vigilante. Heroes wear masks and masks keep me calm, they make me feel hidden. When there is something covering my face, I feel like I am not the version of myself that I hate. It makes me feel like I can do anything. I carry a paper mask with a smiley face on it in my pocket. If I ever get too stressed or scared it provides a small bit of relief. What I really wanted was just for "Victor Chase" to disappear. This meant being a vigilante who only went by his hero name. This goal of mine isn't necessarily unrealistic. The city I reside in is sick, filthy, and forgotten to anyone who ever gave a shit.
It goes by the name of Neonhaven, a large and industrial/tourist city located in the center of the states. It's like a breeding ground for rats. Just replace the rats with thugs, mafia, and junkies. The name is totally ironic, considering it's no haven at all. It's really just a shithole at the end of the day.
The only reason it got that name was because you can see the neon lights from miles away. You'd think the city would be more appealing, but all of our money goes to the lights. It's the only "good" thing the city is known for.
I finally made it to the exit ramp which was only the door prize to what felt like 100 red lights before the city gave way to the parking deck. And 3 levels up, sat my very own parking spot. Even had my name in bold on it. I backed in and killed the engine. Before getting out, I flipped down the visor and stared at myself in the small mirror.
Same old Victor stared back. Dark hair falling into my eyes, looking like I'd been running my hands through it all morning. Which I had.
The stubble on my jaw was getting heavier—when was the last time I'd actually shaved? Three days ago? Four? My eyes looked tired, always looked tired; dark circles underneath like permanent shadows reminding me of all the sleep I didn't get. While my mom was still alive, she used to say I had nice eyes, same as my brother's before he died. Now my eyes just looked... worn. Like I'd seen too much. Which maybe I had.
I ran a hand over my face, feeling the rough skin on my knuckles brush against my cheek. Small scars and nicks from who knows what over the years. My jacket was wrinkled, my t-shirt had a small stain on the collar I hadn't noticed until now. Perfect. I looked exactly like what I was. Someone who'd been through the wringer and who was about to go through it again.
I flipped the visor back up and grabbed the door handle.
A long deep sigh finds its way out of my lips.
"Time to go…"
I opened the car door slowly and got out.
The door slammed behind me with a loud thud, echoing throughout the whole parking deck. I made my way to the passenger side door to grab my things and head onwards to the elevator. While I was walking I noticed an unusual van parked a few spaces away but it was probably nothing. Right?
I stopped for a second outside of the elevator to scratch my head. Best to just ignore it. No use focusing on superstition, so I hit the elevator button and step into the small cramped space.
I pressed ground level and after a boring elevator ride the doors opened with a DING and I stepped out. All that was left was making my way to the exit. This didn't take long at all as I was already pushing through the door. The warm breeze felt great on my skin, but I didn't like walking. Well it was either that or riding the public transportation. I hated that more though, too many people. The thought of it is enough to make me visibly shudder.
"Welp, walking it is then."
On the way I avoided a small puddle on the ground of who knows what.
It was busy today, actually it was busy everyday, but I had to maneuver through crowds on the sidewalk. Homeless people lined the streets, around every corner they'd be there.
I did feel bad for them but I didn't exactly have any money to spare. After clearing the homeless sector, finally, the bright yellow bank sign like a shining beacon from where I was now.
Before I knew it, my hand was on the handle, I turned it and opened the door. Some people gave me strange looks, I didn't really care though. From here it was just one step after another until I got to my desk. I set my things down and what was waiting for me was a big huge stack of papers.
"You have to be shitting me, not on a Friday man.."
Well guess I won't be doing any of it. I can put it off.
As soon as I hit the seat, it's like everything started to move slower.
All I could do to pass the time was listen to the same playlist on spotify and tapping my fingers on the desk. while shuffling papers of course. I had to do something to look somewhat busy.
Dave, one of my co-workers, shuffled by in his usual khaki pants and collared shirt. The only canvas with a bucket of paint. He wore the same uniform every day, like he was proud of it. "Morning Vic." He said with that annoying cheerfulness. The only thing I really didn't like about Dave was that he is chatty. He could talk your ear off all day about football and other sports and it annoyed me. It annoyed me because he broke societal norms. Usually a human with a flare wouldn't be caught dead with a normal.
Last week he had cornered me by the copy machine for at least 20 minutes explaining why the Bears were going to have a comeback season this year.
Complete with player stats he'd memorized and predictions about draft picks. I'd just stand there nodding while my copies piled up.
Thank goodness he didn't try talking to me today. I would've just blown him off.
But despite all that I just nodded like usual and he passed by to get his coffee. Even used his grade 2 fire flare to heat it up. Must be niceeeee.
My moping was interrupted by a customer. Eughh.. I take the singular earbud out of my ear to greet the man standing before me.
"Goodmorning sir, How may I help you?"
"Uhh I have some problems with my account, I can't seem to remember my password." He continued talking but the rest of what he was saying sounded like gibberish.
Some words were blocked out entirely. I noticed myself drifting off, I tried my hardest to listen and care.
"Can *** **** me young man?"
"Sorry, could you please repeat that sir?"
"*** you help ** ***** ***?"
"Yea sure I could help."
The longer he rambles on the harder it is to focus. More words start disappearing.
Until it's all a blur, my attention wanders elsewhere as I zone out to be alone with myself. I always had a hard time focusing, usually getting sidetracked. That work at home I swore to do became more untrue each minute.
Every time I think hard about myself I always get caught up on the same questions. What am I doing with my life? Why am I here? Where would I be right now If I had chosen another path? It's hard to grasp onto the answers for those questions when someone is droning in your ear. I act like I'm listening, throwing in a "Yea" and "Mhm" every now and then..
"Hey I'm not paying you to sit there and day dream all day on the job Victor!" My manager says practically yelling at the top of his lungs.
His screaming startled me out of my daze to find out the man once standing in front of me had vanished. How had I not noticed? I was so lost in my head that the man had simply walked away and I never even knew he did.
Thank goodness my manager hadn't seen that or I'd be getting lectured in the breakroom. Specifically on why paying attention to our clients is important and good for the business. I can't really afford another write up or I would be fired.
So I spent the rest of my shift sorting, actually looking at the paperwork and answering the same repetitive phone calls. Calls from people who can't handle their own issues. Since they can't fix their own problems they leave it to me to fix everything. At least it gets me a paycheck. The TV in the lobby was on the news channel, of course it was about murders that had taken place.
Some crazy terrorist has been running rampant through the States killing people. He has a huge gang backing him, brainwashed them all to think he's god. He hoards body parts in a warehouse for who knows what. The military and Aegis division are all over it but apparently they still are unable to bring him in. My manager quickly switches the channel to the weather as that kind of gruesome news could quickly ruin the mood.
The closer it got to the shift's end the more the clock mocked me as each second ticked away. It felt like seconds turned into minutes and minutes into hours. And then the telephone rang one last time.
Everyone was already starting to pack up their belongings so they could head home. Who could possibly be calling right before we close? Don't they know I have somewhere better to be right now? I picked up the phone and put it to my ear.
"Hello this is Victor at the Bank of Neonhaven; how may I help you?" I mumble in a monotonous voice. Before he replies I quickly switch to the speaker phone so I can set the phone down and pack up.
A deep voice responds, "Do exactly as I say or everyone in that bank of yours gets a bullet right between the eyes!"
My eyes go big. Other people's heads snap in my direction. What did he just say? Clearly this just has to be some kind of sick prank right? Kids do prank phone calls all the time; they clearly couldn't be serious.
"Yea right I bet you're just some kid with a voice changer doing some kind of prank call to impress your buddies." I say hoping it is just some kind of youngster screwing with me.
"Oh really, that's all you think this is? Why don't I just prove to you this isn't some kind of twisted joke!" said the voice this time in a more serious tone than before.
At that very moment a loud explosion or more so a gunshot could be heard. I looked over my shoulder as I heard one of the windows shatter to the left of me. Glass all over the floor and right before my eyes one of my coworkers' heads exploded leaving me and the wall behind covered in blood. He was sitting right next to me. This can't be happening….right? My expression was imprinted with the horrifying sight in front of me. I should be screaming but it's hard to process..
The bullet made a sloppy mess out of his head.
Like when someone slams a glass cup on the ground, the pieces go in all different directions… Brain matter splattered against the ceiling, the walls, and even the people around. Falling off and hitting the ground with a SPLAT. What was left was just gushing out blood…
The whole bank erupted in screams, blood curdling screams; men, women, and even children began to run for the exits. They hope to make it out with their lives. BANG, BANG, BANG More gunshots were fired, slaughtering countless others who tried to flee.
bodies…. bodies…bodies...
My hands touched my face, when I pulled them back there was blood… blood of a man I barely knew. I–I–fuck. I don't think I can fully register that I've become the canvas, j-just not… in the way I expected.
His phone was still open on his desk. He was texting his wife. He was texting her how much he loves her. It wasn't the fact that his head was just blown off. It was instead that the text wasn't and will never be sent. I couldn't stop staring at the phone.
People began to freeze in place, including me, as they didn't want to be the next victims of this mass murder. Where were the pro heroes? Where were the police? Was no one coming to help us? This is it, isn't it? We all die like rats in a cage. No, I won't let this be it. No more bloodshed. I pulled the crumpled paper mask out of my pocket. When I slid it over my face I felt the irrational decisions leave me. Without it I'd probably be running for the door.
"Alright, alright I believe you. I'll do whatever you want! I'll do anything just don't kill more of my co-workers! Please, they are innocent and they have families!". I beg.
Even with what little comfort the mask provided It's almost as if everything actually fades away… I'm left in a black empty space. One of those three questions just keeps coming up over and over again. Where would I be now if I had chosen another path? If I- if I was a hero, I'd be the one saving everyone. If I was a hero I'd have the glory I've wanted. But no I am the one close to pissing himself as I wait for someone else to do that for me.
Right now I was seriously hoping this was a bad dream and I was still asleep in my bed tucked in beneath the covers. Preferably with the T.V. still on. How did all the events in my life lead up to this one moment? Every choice I ever made–to this…
"Tell everyone in that bank that they better not make one move! And they better not think about reaching for a phone and calling the police. If they do, they get shot too!" The voice said to me angrily.
All of a sudden everything set back in and this isn't a bad dream but it's very real. Now I'm the only person who can possibly stop the rest of these people from dying.
I lift the mask up, stick my fingers in my mouth and whistle as loud as I can. This quickly caught people's attention. 100 people, if not more turned to look at me.
"Listen up! Don't move or even try to call the police or you will die too! They probably have full surveillance over the bank and any sudden movements might make them pull that trigger!"
"What… this can't be real, why is this happening to me!" One man screams.
He begins to curl into a ball on the floor out of straight fear. The man's words were a reflection of my thoughts. Why is this happening to me of all people? Others began to panic as it hit them that this might be their final day. I could faintly hear the sound of one girl behind me praying. Even one of our regulars, John, supposedly hardened by war shaking harder than anyone else.
"Alright everyone, stay calm, please. I know you don't know me but I can get us out of this. I just have to do what the man on the phone says and we all get to go home."
I'm hoping maybe it will provide the people with a little reassurance. No one in the crowd seemed to answer me, mouths open but it was silent.
Words that were once there had vanished. All the pressure of this was on me. I'm not even sure I can actually save all these people. Who am I to give them all some sort of false hope!
"Alright Victor, you are going to go into your boss's office and fetch that vault code. I want you to put all the money in the vault into a bag and slowly bring it out to me with your hands up." His voice is low and grim.
"Alright, I will! Just promise you won't hurt anyone else!"
I had to think of every viable option to stop this from escalating any further.
"Oh Victor, maybe just do what I tell you and possibly everyone lives through this if that is what you want so bad." The man says.
I take a deep breath realizing maybe there isn't anything else I can do but give into what the man says. This is not the way I want this to play out though. Not as some bank clerk who does exactly what he is told. Right then it hit me what I could do, a way without having to succumb to his orders. I very slowly inch my hand under the desk towards the panic button. I was hoping maybe at least I could notify the police of what was happening.
All though there was a camera pointed right at me. The typical security feed wasn't clear enough to decipher little movements from a distance.
The second my finger is almost on the button, another shot is fired. This time as a warning shot at me. The bullet blew a hole in the desk, almost hitting my hand.
"You think you're one real slick kid huh? You didn't think I hacked the security cameras beforehand!! I can see everything you do!" He sounded almost amused now.
I jumped back, sweat profusely running down my body. THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, my heart was ready to explode out of my chest. No way, how did he..
"My flair is Technology Manipulation! Every phone, every camera, every electrical component is mine to take over. Not just allowing it to be mine but to enhance it instantly. That grainy security camera feed? It's now crystal clear in 4k resolution. I can even see the little bumps on your arms."
Who is this guy? "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I won't do it again, give me another chance please. I won't make any more mistakes."
"You're very lucky you caught me in one of my better moods. I will be more than merciful and give you one more chance so don't blow it."
I could've gotten everyone killed right then and there but now I get my second chance to not fuck it up.
"Thank you so much for the second chance, I will not disappoint you!"
"Good, that's the attitude I want out of you Victor, now go get that code and open the vault. But Tick tock, Victor. You only have so much time."
"I know, I know!" I gasped, my voice barely audible over my ragged breathing.
I started towards the stairs when a young girl's voice echoed out
"Please save us, mister!" I looked back at her and gave her a slight smile and said.
"I will, you can count on me."
It's hard to ignore the negativity in a situation like this… I can't stop my brain from thinking of every single bad outcome. But the looks these people gave made me realize that this wasn't something they could just take and forget.
No one deserved to go through this and that's why I was going to save everyone. They would remember something like this forever. Although the entire thing is horrifying, this is the first time I have felt exhilarated. Like this was the moment I had been waiting for. My legs felt like feathers; the stairs were nothing more than an obstacle. Each step I climbed was me getting closer to the manager's office. But the state of my body and how I feel were not on the same level. My vision was starting to blur at the edges from stress. When was the last time I'd run like this? The stairwell echoed with my footsteps, each one a countdown I couldn't afford to lose.
Finally I made it to the top and I burst through the door. I could feel my body wanting to collapse but I still stumbled down the hallway. My shoulder hit the wall as I rounded the corner. The manager's office door stood closed. I twisted the handle.
Locked.
"Come on!" I slammed my shoulder against it with what strength remained. The wood groaned but held.
Another hit.
The frame splintered and I crashed inside. Going straight for the desk I yanked open the top drawer so hard it flew out completely.
Papers scattering across the floor. Pens, paperclips, nothing. The second drawer stuck. I pulled until my knuckles went white.
"Tick tock, Victor." His voice chimed out again.
"Shut up!"
I threw the phone aside and used both hands to wrench the drawer free. Files. Invoices. Where was it? My hands shook as I rifled through everything, sweat dripping onto the papers. The bottom drawer. There it was, a small black notebook. I flipped it open, pages flying past my fingers. Numbers. Codes. Access sequences. And there it was: VAULT - 7739-B. Yes! My arms shoot up in the air for a moment of victory.
I grabbed the phone. "I have it!" But the line was dead. I took off as fast as I could to the stairs but on the way I couldn't stop thinking. It's funny how this is what it takes for people to know me. Maybe this is my shot.
I pounded down the stairs, taking them as many as I could, my hands barely touching the rail. The main floor practically rushed up to meet me. But at the bottom some soldier was waiting for me. He was massive, without a doubt easily 6'8. He has shoulders that could block a doorway, arms like tree trunks. He stood perfectly still, watching me with eyes that lacked any emotion.
The tension between us was heavy enough to cut with a knife. I couldn't predict what would happen next but I knew it would end up in a brawl. I was decent at fighting, I just didn't know how to fight a man this size. I had to do something regardless.
"Hand it over," he said simply. His voice was calm, almost bored.
I clutched the notebook to my chest. "No."
He tilted his head slightly, like I was a child who'd said something crazy. "Hand it over, Victor," he said to me.
"I said no." My voice cracked. I took a step back.
I wanted to be a hero and that meant not being a pussy. I had to stand up to this monster of a human. His massive frame towered over me. The lack of any soul, that was the scariest part of the whole thing.
He moved faster than anyone that size should be able to. His fist caught me in the stomach and I doubled over, gasping. The notebook slipped from my fingers. I lunged for it, but his boot caught me in the ribs.Now I was on the ground, reaching for the notebook, when his fist connected with my temple. White light exploded behind my eyes. Another punch, this one to my jaw. I heard something crack. The last thing I remembered was his boots walking away, the notebook tucked under his arm, and the warm wetness spreading across the side of my head. Was that really it? That was my last mistake I was ever going to make and I didn't even get the chance to make some sort of hero's entrance at all.
Everyone was going to die because of me–all because I thought I could be a tough guy instead of complying. I really am the most pathetic human! I can no longer make out the tiles on the ceiling. It's like everything is starting to smudge together. I can feel the blood pool out around me. After a few minutes of fighting it, I passed out.
I wake up to faintly hear police sirens and the sound of ambulances. Everything is hard to see.
My vision is blurry and the room is spinning. I can barely even pick myself off the floor anymore. Blood is dripping down my face and I have a definite concussion.
My arms struggle under my own weight. Just getting up felt 10 times harder than it ever should've. My ears are ringing and I can't hear anything but my own thoughts. This isn't the type of quiet I wanted. The mask was no longer on my face, but rather on the floor next to me. It's soaked… soaked in my own blood. Even then I still pick it up and put it back on. I let the wetness cover my whole face. I am still so scared—a part of me doesn't even want to open the door. Could I even? What strength did I have left? But my feet shuffle forwards anyway. I have to use my entire body to push open the heavy metal door. With each inch that it opened, the more my brain convinced me everything was still okay. I'd walk out and people would be bustling about. Someone would come to comfort me and tell me I gave it my best.
But when I reach the main lobby I find everyone DEAD. Every single person but me had been killed because I majorly screwed up. WHY! WHY is this happening to me?
It's like my body became a statue made of stone, or like I was no longer in control of my own movements. All I could do was look at what I caused…Once what were happy and nice people were now just lifeless corpses sprawled out all over the floor. Mi-Missing all. Missing all their… limbs.
Dave didn't make it either, he was slumped against the wall. He was riddled with bullets, blood all over him. Why couldn't I have just been a little faster? I took a few steps back before falling to my knees. The whole moment had overridden my brain. I couldn't even cry. All I could do was keep blaming myself for everything. I failed everybody, didn't I?
Goddamnit! I drive my head into the ground as hard as I can, CRKK! And again. CRKK! Again! CRKK! Blood gushing down my face.. Seeing through red for the first time, but not from anger. AAGHHH! Tears started to find their way down my face, Great, now they come. Whoever that guy was.. I will find him and make him pay. ILL DO ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING TO HUNT HIM.
For the second time I passed out.
What was, is no more.