Gatehound: No Gate No Break

Their time was up.

In a few minutes, the police would barge in. Sirens wailed outside, growing louder, hungrier. The building was surrounded. Surrender meant prison. And none of them had survived this long just to rot behind bars.

They moved restlessly, masked faces snapping between the front doors, the terrified hostages, and each other.

Then someone snapped.

A masked man jumped onto the marble counter, yanking a gun from his coat and firing a shot into the air.

BANG!

Screams filled the air as customers dropped to the floor, shielding themselves and clinging to loved ones.

The man's face was hidden behind a mask—just like the others. No one robs a bank with their face out in the open.

"If those cops don't back off," he barked, "this place turns into a bloodbath!"

"I thought you said no one would get hurt," a woman snapped. Her voice was tight, restrained. Violet.

"Oh please," Edward scoffed. "Nothing ever changes unless someone dies."

"You promised, Edward!"

"Whatever."

He jumped down and stalked toward the window. A wall of police cars and Kevlar vests surrounded the building, red and blue lights flickering like the devil's carnival.

"Damn it! Where the hell is Rick?" Edward snapped.

Violet tensed. Rick was their getaway driver, supposed to be parked in the alley with the van running. He should have beeped by now.

Abby, the unhinged one, stood from her perch near the hostages and aimed her gun at a child huddled beside his mother.

"Abby, no!" Violet shouted.

"What? If I'm dying, I'm not dying alone."

"We're not dying!"

"Yeah... well I'm not," Edward muttered.

"NOBODY IS DYING!" Violet yelled. "Can't you guys be positive for once? Jeez!"

There was a brief, tense silence. The only sound was the distant hiss of a megaphone and the hum of police engines idling outside.

Violet could feel her heartbeat thudding in her ears. She looked toward the hostages again—an older woman sobbing, two teenagers clutching hands, the bank manager silently praying into his sleeve. This wasn't what she signed up for. She had agreed to help for the money, for freedom, for escape. Not this.

Three short beeps clicked in their earpieces. Rick's signal.

"Go time," Edward grinned.

They moved fast.

Abby and Violet herded the hostages into the vault corridor and locked the reinforced door. Edward shot out the security cameras. Bags of stolen bills were hoisted onto their shoulders as they bolted out the side exit into a trash-strewn alley.

The black van sat there. Engine rumbling. Rick at the wheel.

Violet was first in. She slid the side door open and climbed inside. Rick didn't look at her. His cap was pulled low. Hands on the wheel. No words.

"Rick, you good?" she asked.

No response. Edward and Abby piled in next, panting.

"Move, man! We don't have time!" Edward shouted.

Rick shifted into gear. The van peeled off down the alley, tires screeching. Violet clutched the seat for balance, eyes flicking toward Rick. His knuckles were white on the wheel.

Something felt off.

He wasn't talking. Wasn't looking at anyone. Wasn't even blinking.

The van made sharp turns through backstreets, heading toward the abandoned garage—their rendezvous point. Sweat dripped down Violet's neck. Her gut told her something was wrong.

Then the van jerked to a stop.

They had arrived. Rick turned off the engine. The silence was immediate. Violet looked over. Rick hadn't moved.

"Rick?"

He turned slowly, and Violet's breath caught. His eyes were glassy. Empty. Black veins spidered from the corners. His lips twisted into a smile that didn't belong to him.

Abby saw it too. "What the hell..."

Rick's head tilted unnaturally. His voice dropped several octaves.

"You were warned. You shouldn't have opened the Gate."

Edward pulled his gun. "Rick, what the hell is this? Is this some scare tactic?"

"He's not Rick," Violet whispered.

The thing in Rick grinned wider. "He was hungry. And you were easy."

Abby screamed and fired. The bullet hit Rick in the chest. He didn't flinch.

Then he moved.

Too fast. Too fluid. Inhuman.

He grabbed Abby by the face and slammed her head into the van wall. Blood sprayed. She collapsed instantly, her body limp and twitching.

Edward fired twice more, eyes wide with terror. One shot missed. The second struck Rick in the arm—again, no reaction.

Rick lunged.

He pinned Edward to the van wall with one hand and drove the other into his chest. A sickening crunch echoed inside the van.

Edward gasped. Blood spilled from his mouth. Then nothing.

Violet was already scrambling. She kicked the side door open and rolled out, hitting the gravel hard. Her palms scraped raw against the ground. Pain didn't matter. She got up and ran.

The night swallowed her. Darkness, sirens, distant shouting. But she didn't stop. She didn't look back. Didn't have to. The screams had already stopped.