TODAY AN HOUR BEFORE DAWN
Today is another horror, but no worse than any other day from those of the last three years. The room stank of sweat, third rate liquor, mold and cheap cigarettes. A single bulb flickered from the ceiling, casting shadows that stretched like broken limbs over the stained walls. Crippled Man sat hunched in the corner, flicking ash into an empty beer bottle. Hacker lay on the mattress, one eye covered with a dirty bandage, the other staring blankly at the peeling ceiling paint. The Leader coughed, wincing as he pressed a bloodied rag against his thigh.
“Three years of planning for a thousand bucks and a bullet in a messed up leg,” Crippled Man muttered, shaking his head. “I’ve seen bad investments, but this? This is art.”
Leader managed a weak chuckle. “We should’ve died in that bank three years ago.”
“Yeah? Would’ve saved us a hell of a lot of rent.”
A newspaper sat on the floor, crumpled and stained. The headline read: One Million Stolen in Bank Robbery—Suspects At Large. Beneath it, a smaller subheading: Bank Shuts Down Citing Losses—Management in Crisis.
Hacker grunted. “Guess someone got rich. Wasn’t us.”
THREE YEARS AGO
The garage smelled of motor oil and cheap cologne. Blueprints were spread across a dented metal table, with cigarette burns marking points of interest. They all stood around it, confident, ready.
“Security resets every two minutes,” Hacker said, tapping the screen of his laptop. “I control the feed. Cops get delayed by ten. We’re ghosts.”
“No killing,” Leader reminded. “We get in, we get out. No mess. No noise. Our last heist. Our best ever work.”
Crippled Man lit a cigarette. “What if something goes wrong?”
Leader smirked. “Then we’re not the men I think we are.”
A few hours later, they were breaking into the bank before opening time.
Everything moved like clockwork—until it didn’t.
The vault door swung open. Crisp stacks of cash. More than they could carry. But then—a high-pitched beep. Then another. A hidden failsafe.
Boom.
The explosion ripped through the vault. The world flipped sideways. Screams. Smoke. Gunfire.
Leader pushed himself up, ears ringing. His leg felt wrong. Hacker was on the ground, clutching his face. Driver lay against the wall, impaled by a steel beam. Demolitions Expert coughed blood, reaching for them with trembling fingers.
“Leave me,” he choked. “Go.”
Crippled Man grabbed Leader, hauling him up. “No time. Move!”
They stumbled out, bloodied, broken. The sirens were closing in. And in their hands? A torn duffel bag. All the cash had tumbled out. All except…one hundred in cash.
TODAY MORNING
“I should’ve shot whoever blew up the place when we were doing our heist,” Leader murmured, shifting against the wall. “At least then we’d have earned the headlines.”
Hacker let out a weak laugh. “You’re thinking about all this now? Bold.”
Over the past three years, bills had piled up. Apartments had gotten smaller and worse. Their bodies had decayed faster than their luck. The bank managers had walked away rich, their faces splashed across business magazines. The robbers? They were ghosts, surviving on scraps, one eviction notice at a time.
TONIGHT
They worked as janitors now. Night shifts. Empty offices. Mopping floors where men in suits laughed about million-dollar deals.
But their luck was destined to turn one night. This was that night. The night they overheard it.
“Relax,” one banker sneered. “No one’s looking for us. They think the robbers took everything. And even if they found out? Who’d believe them?”
Another scoffed. “You know what’s funny? They probably died in a gutter somewhere. Broke.”
Something inside Leader snapped.
Hacker had barely blinked before Leader picked up an empty mop bucket. But Crippled Man stood in the way. Leader stopped for a moment, reconsidered and backed off.
“I should have received more” the oldest banker complained. “I planned the whole thing after all”
“But we did all the hard work, the planting of the explosive and all the cleanup of the jewelry. Plus you treated us like shit”
“That’s because you dumb blokes deserved to be treated like that.”
The youngest manager decided he had had enough. He picked up a large book and slammed into the oldest banker’s chest. The old man gasped, clutching his heart. Seconds later, he collapsed.
Silence.
Leader saw all of this and was left stunned. He dropped the mop bucket in shock
“Who is there?” the youngest manager called out.
“Uh,” Crippled Man muttered. “Think we should run?”
The alarms blared as they tried to outrun the cops who reported to the scene.
NOW – FINAL BETRAYAL
The papers called it murder. The police called it justice. The real criminals called their lawyers.
And the bank robbers? They called it fate.
They stood in the courtroom, hands cuffed, faces blank. The judge read their sentence. Death.
Leader exhaled. “Maybe we should’ve killed one of those bloodsucking managers back then.”
Hacker smirked, his one good eye glinting. “Yeah. Would’ve been nice to get our money’s worth.”
The gavel slammed. The world faded to black.