The blonde boy silently stares at his phone, the displayed time on the screen - 6:15 PM.
“The time…”
He murmured as he turned the screen off, his gaze flashing up to the clock, its arms also showing 6:15 PM.
The boy breathed out as he tried to calm down his ragged breath, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His throat felt like it got tighter with each one, each time he tried to slow down, he only felt like it was harder to breathe.
He grabbed his chest as he continued to struggle, his grip on the shirt tightening.
The blonde’s heart raced like crazy, his blood pressure increasing as it felt like it would burst any second.
After a while, the boy finally calmed down, his eyes locked onto a stain on the marble floor.
“I think I just had the worst nightmare ever.”
He clicked his tongue as he looked away, his gaze falling to the nearby ATM machine.
“Right, got money to withdraw.”
The blonde stood up from the couch lazily and sighed, adjusting the collar of his t-shirt.
He calmly walked up to the machine with soft steps, stopping as he leaned against the machine, making it lightly wobble.
“I wish you didn’t need my credit card every time, ATM.”
The boy reached to his pocket, taking out a credit card, on which his name lingered – Nixon Mori.
He carefully inserted the card, taking a moment to operate the machine before withdrawing his money.
As he picked up the money, he noticed a few transparent, red stains on the bills.
“Huh?”
Nixon breathed out, his gaze lingering on the stains momentarily.
“Why do I always get dirty bills? Can’t people keep their money clean?”
He clenched his jaw as he curled up the paper, putting it in his pocket. His eyebrows furrowed slightly and his red eyes shined, a grunt escaping through his gritted teeth.
Just as the blonde looked towards the front door, a masked man has entered, concealing a pistol behind his back.
For a moment, it felt like time slowed down, the figure eerily familiar to Nixon. The sinister smile on the mask sent shivers down his spine, his eyes wide.
The boy simply froze up.
“What the…”
A lump formed in the blonde boy’s throat once again, his heartbeat speed up as he watched the man stop in the middle of the room.
His gaze flickered to the clock, its arms pointing to 6:23, his brow furrowed further.
“6:23? Not 22?”
He whispered to himself as he covered his mouth, his voice just as shaky as his breath.
“Why did I even think it should be 22?”
Nixon breathed out as his eyes flickered back to the hooded man, who was now standing still in the middle of the room.
As he stared at the man, he subconsciously stepped forward, his footstep confident enough to catch the man’s attention.
The criminal turned towards Nixon, slightly tilting his head, one of his hands reaching for the back.
“Excuse me?”
The boy blurted out as he stopped before the masked man, a few drops of sweat forming on his skin.
“Yes?”
The man simply replied, his shoulders lowering as if his body relaxed.
“You…”
Nixon whispered out before pausing, his jaw clenching momentarily.
“Why do you have a mask on?”
The hooded man breathed out as he looked away, his hand already resting on the back of his weapon.
He took a moment before looking back at the blonde, a strange, orange glare in his eyes.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
“Well, that’s because I have a nasty rash, kid.”
The boy paused for a moment, blankly staring at the man, his eyes narrowing slightly.
“A rash…”
He repeated quietly, his gaze locked with the man as he thought. The blonde boy’s eyes narrowed and his face tensed up, his mind scrambling with blurry memories.
After a moment, Nixon sighed as he looked towards the front entrance, his body relaxing.
“Alright.”
As the boy took a step forward, attempting to leave the bank, he could feel as a cold, plastic material was put right on the back of his head, pausing his movement.
“Stay here, kid, or you’re dead.”
The masked man whispered out, pushing his gun further against the blonde’s head.
Nixon froze up, his eyes widening as he looked down on the floor. A drop of sweat formed on his chin as he breathed out, his hands trembling ever so slightly.
In his head, the image of a similar situation flashed briefly, his jaw clenching with a grunt.
“No…”
The boy breathed out as he swallowed, his heart racing in his chest.
“Listen up.”
The criminal lazily put a hand over the blonde’s shoulder, tugging him by the collar.
“When we go to the reception, and I ask them for the money in the vault, you’re gonna pack them into my bag.”
The masked man breathed out, the air around the boy’s neck rising in temperature.
“Understood?”
His grip tightened as he finished his sentence, the cold gloves wrinkling.
The blonde boy nodded as he clenched his jaw, his eyebrows furrowing slightly.
The criminal walked up to the reception, tugging Nixon along with him, his orange glare falling onto a frail, old man by the desk.
The elder looked up at the two, his eyes widening as the painted, sinister smile caught his eye.
“May I help you?”
He breathed out, his voice shaky and stuttering, his pupils trembling lightly.
“First of all,”
The hooded man paused as he turned his head towards the blonde, chuckling quietly.
“Close down the bank.”
He pointed out as his gaze wandered back to the old man.
“Excuse me? Close down the bank?”
The frail man hesitantly replied.
“Did I stutter?”
The robber leaned closer to the reception glass, his glaring eyes digging into the old man’s soul, causing him to jump up with a whimper.
“No, sir.”
The elder carefully stood up from his chair, freezing for a moment as he stared at the blonde boy.
Nixon swallowed as he looked away from the man, his eyes stopping on the clock.
It was already 6:28.
“6:28…”
He breathed out quietly, catching the masked man’s attention, the gun softly tapping against the side of his head.
“What about it, kid?”
The criminal clicked his tongue, pulling the boy closer to him with his elbow.
“Did you call the cops or something when I wasn’t looking?”
The blonde stayed silent, his eyes narrowing slightly as the clock stuttered right in front of him.
The clock’s arm, responsible for seconds, paused and rewound by a second, jittering in the process.
In that short moment, the masked man leaned back slightly, his tongue clicked again and he leaned in again.
“Did you call the cops or something when I wasn’t looking?”
Nixon froze up, his gaze wandering to the man and locking with his orange glare in silence.
His heart was racing and his eyes were wide, a drop of sweat sliding down his cheek.
“I’m asking you, kid. Did you?”
The masked man’s grip on his weapon tightened, the cold plastic digging into the boy’s hair.
The elder man stood in a corridor, deeper in the bank. Before him, the metal vault peacefully resided, the cold air inside giving off a muffled buzz.
He was trembling as he stared at the polished metal, his gray eyes blank.
“The vault…”
The man muttered as he heaved heavily, his frail hand reaching forward towards the control panel.
The elder’s fingers brushed against multiple buttons before stopping, his jaw clenching slightly.
“It’s my duty to keep the contents safe.”
He gently pressed a red button, one with a small print out, Emergency, as he breathed out.
A jarring, loud alarm echoed through the bank, the lights flickering with a red hue. Metal bars quickly rolled down behind the front doors and windows, blocking anybody from leaving the building.
Chaos exploded amongst civilians, panicked screams and cries ringing in the reception.
The employee’s, confused, rushed out from their positions, trying to orient themselves within the situation.
“Shit.”
The criminal breathed out as he looked up at the ceiling, his orange eyes glaring at the red lights.
“Somebody turned on the alarm.”
He paused for a moment before his gaze wandered to the blonde boy, whom was frozen, blankly staring forward.
The masked man’s eyelids narrowed slightly, his grip on the gun loosening as he observed the boy. The glare in his eyes softened for a moment before he tensed up, his grip on the plastic once again tight.
“Ey, kid.”
Nixon blinked twice as his eyes refocused, his mouth slightly agape.
“Huh?”
He breathed out as he turned his head towards the robber, his jaw clenching and eyebrows furrowing.
“Something on your mind? Figuring out an escape plan or excuses to the police?”
The hooded man lightly tapped against the blonde’s head with the barrell of the pistol, the plastic digging into his hair momentarily.
“What?”
He breathed out as the weapon tapped against him, his breath ragged and his blood pressure high.
“I’m not thinking of anything like that!”
The boy added as he tightly clenched his fists, feeling his pulse jump in the veins.
The criminal just leaned heavier against him, his orange eyes boaring into his soul.
“Don’t play with me, kid. I just saw you spacing out.”
His elbow rubbed against the blonde boy’s shoulder as it rotated, his grip on the gun tightening.
“You better tell me each one of your thoughts, and they better not be harmful towards me, or your head goes…”
The masked man lightly tapped on the trigger, the click barely coherent with the chaos around them.
“So what will it be?”
He breathed out as he kept rhythmically tapping the trigger, each time slightly harder.
For a moment, time felt like it stopped.
The criminal’s finger hanged in mid air, tensed up from the repetitive movement.
The loud, rabbid enviroment around them fell silent, the red lights stopped flickering, the alarm stopped buzzing and people stopped moving.
Even the clock paused, the arms about to hit 6:30 PM.
Nixon grunted and clenched his jaw as an unusual headache settled in, the frozen enviroment so silent and devoid of reaction – It felt like it was mocking him.
“Crap.”
He breathed out as he raised his hand to the reception desk’s counter, supporting himself from falling over.
“What’s even happening?”
The boy’s grip on the desk strengthened, his legs trembling as his knees bent slightly.
“What’s with…”
He gasped, his lungs collapsing and his head felt like it would explode, the skin on his body turning pink from blood pressure.
“all…”
The blonde narrowed his eyelids, his vision getting blurry as his eyes got wattery.
He clenched his jaw as he looked down, his legs trembled, the muscles flexing as he tried to keep himself up.
But soon enough, the boy lost his balance, collapsing onto the ground as his eyes closed.
