Just another day at a Citibank in New York City. People milling about, transactions happening, accounts being set up, accounts being settled. The norm. Friendly faces giving cheery greetings, and even pleseantries being exchanged with routine customers. A typical Monday morning, in an otherwise atypical world. Nothing is ever as they seem, and nothing here will ever be the same.

As the people shuffle about their miserable excuse of an existence, Husk was coming up to the bank entrance of the bank. The place where all the fun goes down. His boots crunched on the loose pebbles of the concrete, and splashed in the puddles of the freshly fallen rain. The air was humid, as the sun was only beginning to rise and burn off the rain-water of the previous night. The cameras began to turn and track the masked figure. When he came to a stop, a mere 5 feet from the back door, he raised a single gauntleted hand and gave a thumbs up. Then the hand turned, and gave a thumbs down. In a mere moment...Husk was insubstantial as the wind. The blackish-smoke whirled and twisted slipping through the door, and into the bank.

Alarms went off as a couple of security guards scrambled from their room. As the door was flung open...they stared at the tall man who had slipped in. Husk merely cocked it's masked head, giving off a terrible chuckle. His hands flew into opposite sides of his trench coat, and pulled out two identical shotguns. He didn't even give them time to react to his presence, and blew them away with a blast to the chest. Never one to be stingy, as they lay bleeding on the ground...he executed them with a shot to the face each. He dropped the guns, and stepped towards the security consoles. As the guns burned away, he began to turn the systems off. It wasn't an expert job, smashing your fists through them, but it would delay the response teams and limit the intel they would have on the perpetrator.

It was all about that crucial detail. Other than that...his employer only wanted a few things. His mission parameters were left vague, allowing for some "interpretation" on the part of Husk. The sound of the door opening, and the clomp of his boots...was all the next guard had for warning. His neck was snapped and his body chucked into the main lobby of the bank. Then that sweet sweet sound. People screaming, the sound of terror. Husk stepped in and pulled his guns, firing a shot off into the air. Silence. A twisted smile would've pulled at his twisted features, not that anyone could see under the mask. "I'm sure we all understand what's going on here. So let's have everyone come and sit in front of the counter."

A man, most likely one of the shift managers or some such, approached Husk. "Excuse me sir, but...I hope you understand the implica..." The manager didn't have a time to finish. The end of a shotgun was put directly at the front of the face, and in an instant...one of the teller's was wearing her boss's brains on her face. Of course...more screaming, and another round into that teller, and things go quiet again.

"Next?"

made by nette of gs!