Bloody Monday

As the few seconds to 8am ticked away on bright Monday morning, MATEO BECHO, in his early forties, clad in chino pants that had seen a fair share of days, a golf t- shirt and a fairly old V- collar jersey, looked at his reflection in the glass door of the prestigious EMC Bank. His imagine quickly reminded him of the dire need to visit the barbers for his hair and beard. He, of course had combed the hairs but a razor thereon would give him the much needed acceptable outlook of the modern day standards. His medium belt figure stemmed from a pair of dusty canvas. In his hands was a medium sized envelope full of old bank notes that the Central Bank had recalled.

The watch quivered on his wrist. It was 8am. The security officer motioned to the main door and opened it for Mateo, of course with a smile, "Good morning sir.

Mateo matched into the bank and returned the pleasantry, "Good morning. Thank you."

The security walked by him and inquired, "How may we help you?"

Mateo smiled and responded promptly, "I need to exchange old bank notes for new ones."

The security officer dangled a joke, "burning the midnight oil?" He bought the joked and gave in to a mild but hearty chuckle, "You know the drill."

"Yes sir." The Officer confirmed. "Go to that table, complete the form and wait for the tellers. They're having a brief but you will be done in no time. You are our first customer."

Mateo nodded and walked to the table as directed. No sooner he started completing the form than four bank tellers and two customer service personnel walked to the counters in uniform apparel. They all wore smiles and beamed with energy to face another day and deliver. Mateo was quick to notice that the group had a bias to females. Only two were male.

While they settled on their work stations, the main entrance swung open and four robbers armed with pistols stomped in. Their faces were concealed with masks of the porcupine. From their ranks, one carried a stuffed backpack and the other one rolled a big trunk.

Alert to the danger, the Security Officer reached for his gun but DEACON, the gang leader aimed and warned, "Don't even think about it." One of the robbers disarmed him and confiscated the keys to the building, the phone and walkie- talkie. The Villain rushed to the main entrance and secured it under lock and key. And for good measure, he turned the signage to read "CLOSED". Deacon pointed the gun at Mateo, "This is part you thought about your life." Mateo fetched his mobile phone and dropped it to the floor. He then took to the knee and quickly laid prostrate on the floor and kept the hands on the head. One of the robbers quickly searched Mateo – making sure he neither had a weapon nor communication device on him. And of course, he took his phone.

The bank personnel and the security officer kept their spots in shear silence. You could hear a pin drop in the hall. Deacon walked to the first customer service officer. He looked at him for a minute – he raised his gun and aimed at his forehead. Without thinking twice, Deacon pulled the trigger and shot him. His lifeless body dropped to the floor and a pool of blood fast formed around his head. Deacon turned to the other customer service officer. She closed her eyes hoping for the best on one hand and expecting the worst on the other. The villain took aim and shot her once in the head. She fell helpless and died at the spot. Deacon then moved to the Tellers and shot them in the heads one at a time. Blood oozed from the dead bodies. Fear gripped Mateo and The Security Officer, who remained standing during the whole ordeal.

Deacon rushed to the manager's officer but there was no one at first glance. "What's your name?" CRYSTAL, a young banker with an excellent record, shivered beneath the executive table, "Crystal." Deacon loaded his pistol with bullets and cocked it. He was ready to stain his hands and conscience with more blood, "I am not here to play hide and seek, Crystal. You have three seconds."

Crystal rolled from the table and hesitantly stood in front of Deacon. Tears freely flowed from her eyes. Her body quivered with fear. The gun was pointed at her. Death was eminent – it was just a bullet away. Time was clearly not the ally to the operation and Deacon understood that. "Move!" He screamed. Crystal quickened her feet and walked as instructed but as she paced past him, Deacon grabbed her by the nape and marshalled her to the more hall. Deacon pushed her to the counters where her subordinates laid lifeless in the pool of their own blood. He grabbed the hair and directed her gaze at the first body with a stern demand, "Who's she!?" Crystal, sobbing, answered, "Jane." Deacon announced, "She's dead." He pulled her to the next body, "Who's she?" "Eunice", She said bursting with tears. Onwards to the next one, he demanded, "Who's he?" She quickly gave response, "Peter." He sighed with satisfaction, "Hmm. He's dead. So is Eunice." Crystal still a prisoner in Deacon's grip was shoveled to the next body, "And her?" Crystal rang out a faint reply amid snuffles, "That's Joan." Deacon rubbed it in, "She's dead." Pointing to the customer service desk, he inquired, "What about them?" Crystal, at this point, sunk deep in trauma and whispered, "Mil and Pretty." Deacon took in a deep breath and exhaled audibly, "She was pretty, alright. But she's dead. He's dead too. They are all fucking dead."

Deacon pushed Crystal to the wall and pointed the gun at her, "You're dying too." She broke down for dear life. And in an attempt to plead for herself, she raised her hands and voiced out hoarsely, "please, don't kill me." Deacon was however numb and to her plight. He pulled the gun's hammer down and locked his finger around the trigger. "I need access to the vault or you get it." The muscles in hand slowed pulled in – Crystal without saying a word looked the other way. Another life was about to ebb away.