"I don’t care WHAT you think
Thomas," He said, "I’m going, and I’m
going now." Richard, who considered
himself a genius, had every right to do
so. His IQ was over 170, which you
would, in some way, be told after
spending thirty seconds with him. He
was 6 ft 2, and for the most part, an
honest man. He never lied about
anything important, never tried to
harm anyone, and yet due to his
personality, he developed more enimes
than those of all his "friends"
combined.
"And further more..." he continued,
matter-of-factly, a way in which he
always spoke, "if you don’t think that
he’s dangerous, than perhaps we
should take a closer look at you." He
was, of course, referring to Herbert,
who had, until recently, seemed just a
innocent as Richard himself, though
not half as self-confident. The
aforementioned fact is most likely the
source of his apparent harmlessness.
No one pays attention to the insecure,
at least, not in that sense.
"I’m not debating whether he’s
dangerous," said Richard’s co-worker,
Thomas, "I’m just saying that you are
being to hasty. We don’t know what
he’s got in there, assuming you can
even make it in, and then what would
you do? He’s TAKEN anything we
could possibly use in our defense,
Richard." "Well, do you propose we just
sit around here while an insane
criminal has locked himself up in the
main vault and-" "He has not done
anything illegal," Thomas said, cutting
Richard off, "and, to be able to get into
the vault in the first place, he can
hardly be insane." At that point,
Richard’s voice grew soft and
menacing. He hated to be corrected,
particularly by someone like Thomas
"He is insane," he began, drawing his
lips into a sadistic smile, "if he thinks
that he can get away with this.
Furthermore, why would he do all
this if not to empty the vault, which,
last time I checked Tom, is illegal."
Thomas began to protest, but decided
against it, he knew Richard would kill
him if he corrected him again
His mind raced back, museing on the
events of the last few days. The whole
thing originated, as best he could tell,
on the 15th of March, which was just
last Friday. At the time, none had
suspected the slightest trace of
corruption in Herbert, nor was there
any reason for him wanting to
attempt such a suprising act.
He, like all the other bank guards, had
complete access to the inner, inner
vault, but the lucrodius wages, the
limitless benefits, not to mention the
unusually high penalties, should one
such an act be carried out, all were
designed to prevent some one taking
advantage of the situation. And, of
course, they only chose the finest,
most trustworthy men and women
they could find, after all, this bank
held practically all this country’s
wealth, so much that it was commonly
referred to as "Fort Knoxette".
"Now," Richard said, " Our hands
are tied now, the law clearly states
that it is illegal to STEAL from the
vault, if we apprehend him now, we
have false arrest on a technicality,
but the INSTANT that he touches one
penny of that money, we’ve got him,
all right? Good" He said, abandoning
his earlier plan of immediate action.
He was using his "take charge" voice,
meaning challenge was futile, still,
through all the fear Thomas had of
him, he managed to say, "Isn’t it
interesting that he’s been in there for
hours, and hasn’t made an attempt to
take anything, or, for that matter, to
leave? He knows we can’t touch him,
so long as he leaves everything in his
place." Another cruel smile spread
across the taller man’s lips. "That,"
Richard said triumphantly, "proves
his insanity."
Having no response to that, Thomas
continued to think back. Herbert had
shown no signs of unusual behavior,
or for that matter, insane behavior,
until today. Still, the whole thing had
to have started at least five days ago,
last Friday. That would have given
him enough time to study the system,
and set his plans. Obviously, it
couldn’t have been done earlier,
because all three of them were hired
as guards to the inner, inner vault
that day.
Almost immediately, his thoughts fled
to the guards on the outer vaults. He
had no way of knowing what was
going on out there, as contact
between levels of security was
prohibited to promote stability. How
were they handling this? Were they
even aware? Could he have avoided
tripping the alarm? That seemed
impossible, but no more so than
somehow destroying all of the
weapons, and stealing the extra access
cards to the inner , inner vault to
prevent anyone else from entering.
Could an insane man do this? An
insane genius perhaps. Yes, everyone
hired to guard was of top intellectual
status, as well as dependability.
Thomas had barley made it through,
his IQ was just barely 150, the
minimum for his job. But his
well-established background had gone
the extra mile for him, and he was in
Herbert on the other hand, had an IQ
higher than that of both his colleges.
At 196, this man was certainly no
miscreant. The question as to why he
would choose to work as a guard,
when he could have any number of
exiting careers, was dropped almost
immediately when he got his first
paycheck. With his high IQ, however,
Richard hated him from the start.
Although really, as Thomas was
known to say behind his back,
"Richard is just a long ‘Dick.’". Still,
for whatever reason he had, Richard
was determined to create the right
circumstances to make Herbert look
like an idiot. However, if nothing else
he was proving that an inflated ego
can destroy the good judgment of
even the most intelligent ‘Dick’
In fact, it was that very day, when
they were all brought to the bank,
that Richard began laying his traps. In
the first such incident, he had
"borrowed" Herbert’s pocket watch,
and set it one hour and seventeen
minutes late. He then casually asked
Herbert what time it was. Now, there
was a wall clock in plain sight, but,
through keen observation, Richard
had noticed that Herbert had a
eccentricity of always looking at his
watch, no matter what circumstances.
He would wait until Herbert had
given him the incorrect time, and
then smile and say something like:
"No, no, Herb, when the big hand is on
the one..." The fool! He really thought
that just because Herbert only
checked his watch every now and
then, that he’d just assume his concept
of how much time had passed was in
error. He neglected, however, to notice
that Herbert checked his watch every
hour, on the hour.
The second time his plot against
Herbert failed, was on the third day of
his employment. He a decided to lay
low for a day or so, after suffering
mild humiliation from his first plan.
(Herbert had reported it to the bank
president, saying he was concerned
about any ill-relations between
guards.) Still, the urge for revenge
soon overtook him. Revenge is a
powerful emotion, and it magnifies
itself a thousandfold when the person
in question holds himself in high
regard.
Thomas’ thoughts were once again
interrupted, this time by the one
phone in the inner, inner structure,
which only connects to the office of
the bank president. He answered it.
"Hello, this is Thomas, guard 3 for
sector 78-R." "Tom!" said a raspy voice
on the other end "What the Hell is
going on here?!? What is that whacko
doing in my vault?!?!?!?!?"
Thomas shifted uneasily, "If you’ll
calm down for just a minute, Ma’am..."
He said. "I’m not entirely sure." The
response was a strain of loud,
incomprehensible ravings. Thomas
sighed and looked around at all of the
elaborate security measures. In a way,
they reflected the paranoid nature of
the bank president.
The noise on the other end of the
phone line had ceased, he continued.
"We have the exit surrounded, he
can’t stay in there forever, and when
he comes out, we’ve got him so you
can just relax and let us do our job."
"I’m watching you Tommy, and if you
slip up even once, I’ll staple a stamp to
your ass and mail you to Canada!" The
phone was brought down sharply, and
Thomas winced in pain as a loud slam
was heard. Muttering, Thomas once
again let his mind drift.
Where was he? Ah yes, the SECOND
time Richard’s plan had failed was
when he tried to make Herbert
appear absent-minded by placing a
specially made label designed to look
like the tag on Herbert’s uniform on
his back, appearing as though he put
his shirt on inside-out. While he was
walking past him in the hallway, he
had it stuck on the handle of his
flashlight. He planned to then smack
him lightly on the back with it and
mutter "Sorry." in a rude voice. Since
he would have put only a light coat of
adhesive on the flashlight, he was
certain that he could not fail.
This plan might have worked if not
for the aforementioned fact that
egotism clouds judgment. In this case,
Richard had applied to much adhesive
to both the side of the tag with the
flashlight on it, and the side ment for
Herbert’s back. In fact, he would have
walked around all day with the
flashlight on his back, exempt that the
adhesive, being wet, could not support
the weight of the heavy flashlight, and
fell to the floor with a loud CLANK.
This time, Herbert made a horrible
mistake. He didn’t report him, and he
didn’t say a word. Instead, he simply
turned around and gave Richard the
most condescending smile imaginable.
No one on Earth can be
condescending like Herbert was that
night. All night long, he said nothing,
but rather stared his icy stare and
smile his icy smile at Richard. And all
that ice, caused him to burn.
Thomas knew that Richard held a
grudge against Herbert, there was no
doubt to that, everyone knew it, and
everyone knew that everyone knew
it. but only one person knew the
magnitude of it, and that person was
Richard.
Richard stared at the monitor,
relishing every second of it. This time,
he thought, this time, my friend, you
are going down, down, down. there’s
no way outta this. Herbert still hadn’t
touched the money, and Richard was
very patient, he could see him staring
at it. Yes, that’s it, he thought Go on,
take it, take it and you are mine. He
was savoring the moment.
In his mind he envisioned the next
day, the bank president, who was a
known recluse, would leave her house
to congratulate him, he would have
saved billions and billions of dollars,
he’d be a hero. And, more importantly,
that skunk of a Human Being would
be behind bars for life. A lifetime of
punishment he thought, I like the
sound of that. As he was planning
how to spend the reward, eyes still
fixed on the screen Herbert looked up
at him, and smiled that same cruel
smile he had smiled the day his second
attempt had failed. That same,
gruesome, mocking smile. Inside
Richard, something snapped.
"THAT SONOFABITCH! I’LL KILL HIM!
I’LL KILL HIM!!!" Thomas’ train of
thought was once again broken, this
time by the bloodcurdling scream
issued forth from Richard’s mouth.
"THAT SONOFABITCH!A BITCH!A
BITCH!" He sobbed, "I’LL KILL HIM!
I’LL KIIIIIIIIIIIILL HIM!" Tears were
rivers running down his face, he ran
to the vault door and began bashing
himself in a vain, futile attempt to
break it down. Thomas looked on in
horror. He’s gone mad, he thought
what happened? He looked perfectly
normal a moment ago...
He wanted to help him, but Richard
was also strong. Actually, he wasn’t
very strong at all, normally, but he
had a rush of adrenaline that made
him stronger than he had been at any
other time in his life. Since all of the
weapons were somehow destroyed by
Herbert, there was nothing he could
use to hold him back, although in a
few seconds it didn’t matter, Richard
had knocked himself out.
There was a first-aid kit in the
vicinity, and Thomas was applying a
cold compress to Richard’s forehead.
He knew that he would live, but that
there would be an extensive amount
of brain damage, ironically, just
enough to put him on an average
level. Huh, that’s odd. Thomas
thought. There was no way to know
the amount of damage that would be
done, yet he felt somehow certain
that was the exact amount.
It was about two hours later, Thomas
was sitting at his desk, reading a book
and Richard was sleeping on a nearby
cot. Herbert was still in the vault, and
he still hadn’t touched the money.
Suddenly, Richard stirred a little. Oh
good, thought Thomas, He’s waking up.
Indeed he was, in fact, he was
sluggishly walking towards the vault.
As he neared it, his pace quickened.
Thomas ran after him, afraid he
would start again, but not only did he
not reach him before he reached the
vault, and not only did he NOT in fact,
start again, but he WALKED RIGHT
THROUGH, and began advancing
towards Herbert. In the monitor,
Thomas could see Herbert leap in
suprise, and close his eyes as if bracing
himself, or was he really? Richard
reached out his hands and began to
squeeze them around Herbert’s neck..
As dumb as he felt, Thomas knew he
had to try and stop him, so he closed
his eyes and walked in the direction
of the vault door.
He screamed in agony as his face made
contact with the cold metal of the
vault door. Why can’t I do it? he
wondered, dumbfounded. Through the
monitor, he could see Herbert’s face
turning red, then maroon, and finally
purple.
Okay, he thought people don’t just
walk through solid steel and
reinforced concrete, hundreds of years
of accepted common sense have shown
that. So, if I am to walk though this, I
have to forget all that, change my
perspective, and just concentrate.
Now, once someone has come to
believe that whatever you see is
reality, it’s incredibly hard to think
otherwise, but the adrenaline
achieved in a desperate situation
caused him to do so at a fantastic rate,
in fact, he was able to do so the very
instant that Herbert died. His
surroundings grew blurry and faded.
The vault door in front of him
flickered out of vision. He was in the
lounge provided for the inner, inner
guards. Herbert was dead, and Richard
was standing over him. A triumphant
smile was on his face. "Hypnotism," he
said.
His speech was a bit garbled, and
there was some blood running into
his mouth because the bandage on
his head had also disappeared, leaving
exposed a massive, bloody pulp with
some clean, white bone showing
through. "He didn’t expect me to catch
on, but when I hurt my head,
something must have jarred my
perspective." Thomas nodded, mouth
hanging open. Richard pretended not
to notice.
He continued "He was able to project
the image of the vault into our minds,
but he had to have complete
concentration, that’s why it
disappeared when he died" Thomas
was still a bit shocked, but he
managed to croak "But...but why?"
"Why did he do it?" Richard asked,
"Both he and the people running the
bank value intelligence over
everything. By proving he could
control our minds, he would be able
to expose our inferiority, and get us
fired, it would take them a while to
get replacements, and in that time he
would be the sole guard, and then he
could get the money for real."
Thomas was still not understanding.
"But the security measures...the life
sentence...did he really think he could
get away with it?" "Oh, I’m sure he’d
have thought of something," Richard
said, and then revealed the coldest,
most nauseating smile he had ever
smiled, "After all, he is a Genius." Brain Candy Links Stories Philosophies Home Reviews Average
