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“Why are you doing this?” an elderly man in bedclothes cowers, “what do you want from me?”
“I want what I was promised… immortality…” a young man in a long, black overcoat stands over the old-timer.
“No… please… god no…” the old man falls to his knees, begging the man in the overcoat. The young man pulls a thin blade from his coat pocket and puts it to the elderly man’s throat; and with a slight movement of the man’s hand, the blade slices through the old man’s throat, with ease.
James Vint died lying in a pool of his own blood, and the last thing he saw before he closed his eyes for the final time, was his only son walk out front door, dropping a knife to the floor, and leaving it.
Classified file: C2-839
In the year 2016, a man by the name of Henry Vint brutally murdered 49 people, including his own family. On November 13, 2016, Mr. Vint was apprehended on the Brooklyn Bridge, it was believed at the time that he was attempting to commit suicide. On March 12, 2018, Mr. Vint was charged with 49 counts of 1st degree murder, and was sentenced to 93 consecutive life terms in the New York Maximum Security State Prison. After spending 3 weeks there, Mr. Vint was removed from the general public and brought to C2, a top secret government prison, hidden within the Sierra-Nevada Mountains. Mr. Vint was placed in C2’s most heavily guarded room: and left there to rot. In 2020, 2 years after Mr. Vint arrived at C2, the US government shut the facility down due to budget cuts. On January 26, 2020, life support to the prison was turned off. By February 12, 2020, there were no life signs within the prison.
On May 1, 2068, the US government reopened C2. A team of military cleaners were sent into the prison to ‘make it like new’ and start over with the program. After 16 hours, the only room remaining to be cleaned was Mr. Vint’s room. When the team entered Mr. Vint’s room, all life signs within the prison went off. Seven minutes and thirty-three seconds after, a faint life sign was detected coming from the cell. Eighteen hours later, a Special Operations team was sent in to find the missing cleaners, at that time it was believed that only one of them walked back out. On May 4, 2068, the President ordered all power to be turned on within C2, on May 5, 2068, at 3:16 in the afternoon; all life support systems for the facility came on. One-hundred and thirty-eight seconds later, Henry Vint, posing as a Special Operations soldier, walked out of C2, he was headed towards the nearest steakhouse.
The sun is setting, a golden orange that could pierce the very soul. Neon lights shine in the distance, in any other city, the population would be heading to bed; but in Vegas, they’re just waking up.
A tall man walks down the street outside the Luxor Hotel; he is dressed in a soldier’s uniform. As the man turns to head down an ally, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. The soldier pulls his helmet off and places the cigarette between his lips, lights it, and inhales.
“Godd*mn… it’s really been a long time hasn’t it?” The soldier inhales again and turns around, walking out of the ally. Loud music plays in the background, casinos large enough to be seen from space surround the streets.
The soldier walks down the sidewalk, constantly darting his eyes, scanning the city. He turns a corner and runs; an all-night diner stands tall in front of him. A bell above the glass door chimes as the man walks into the diner, a middle-aged woman with graying hair and a fragile face stands behind the counter.
“How ya doin’ sir? What’ll ya have?” the woman smiles, revealing 2 missing teeth.
“I want steak, lots of steak.” The soldier stares into the woman’s eyes.
“Alright sir, if you’ll just have a seat I’ll have your steak for you in just a few.” The woman turns around and walks to the back, into the kitchen.
“Hey, what’s your name?” the woman sticks her head out the winder dividing the kitchen from the eating area.
“It’s Henry.” The soldier sighs and plays with the silverware.
“Henry, huh? What brings you to Vegas, anyways?”
“Nothing… I’m just passing through on my way to New York.”
“Ah, well here’s your steak.” The woman places a plate on the table.
“Thanks…” Henry picks up a fork and stabs it into the steak, eating it in 4 bites.
“Wow, you must have been starved!” The woman’s eyes wide as she picks the plate up off the table.
“Yeah, I haven’t eaten in years.” Henry walks out the door, leaving the woman to ponder what he meant.
Classified File C2-471
May 5, 2068. Workers at C2 discover the bodies of thirteen government operatives in Henry Vint’s cell. The bodies belong to the Special Operations team along with the cleaners. The body of Henry Vint is nowhere to be found.
The loud whine of jet engines pierce the night sky as Henry walks into the Las Vegas Airport. A tall man stands behind the counter, typing on a computer.
“I need a flight to Manhattan, New York.” Henry walks up to the counter, looking at the flight schedule.
“That’ll be one-hundred thirty-five dollars, sir.” The man behind the counter looks up briefly, and then goes back to typing on the computer.
Henry feels around in the pockets of his uniform, searching for a wallet without luck. He leans over the counter, “I don’t suppose you can let me on that flight for free, I mean I’m a soldier, I’m the only person keeping you safe.”
“I’m sorry sir, but rules are rules. I can’t let you on that flight unless you pay for the ticket.” The man sighs and looks up again.
“Fine.” Henry reaches into a pocket and pulls out a Glock. “I’m getting on that plane, and you’re not going to stop me. Now, be a good boy and close your eyes.”
“I’ll call security sir; you need to put that gun away!”
“Close your eyes or each bullet I have is going into you.”
The man closes his eyes, trembling as he reaches toward the silent alarm.
“I don’t think so.” The soldier falls to the ground as the man behind the counter prints out a one-way ticket to Manhattan, New York.
Classified File C2-554
May 5, 2068, the body of the surviving Special Operations soldier has been discovered in a Las Vegas Airport terminal. Cause of death is unknown, but an analysis of the body has indicated that he ate steak just minutes before his death…
“Flight 329 to New York is now boarding.” A gentle voice emits from some unseen loudspeaker.
A young man wearing a suit and tie stands up in the lobby and heads towards the door that will bring him to his flight.
“May I see your ticket please?” An older woman in a light blue shirt and pants stands by the doorway to the access terminal.
“Of course.” The young man pulls the ticket out of his pocket and continues up to the plane.
“Hey, you!” a security guard yells out, rushing towards the man.
“Do you mind? I’m going to miss my flight unless you either make this quick or just keep on walking.”
“Just a moment sir; a body has been found at the main counter, and according to the security cameras, you’re the only other person that was in there when he died.
“He had a gun; he was going to shoot me if I didn’t give him a ticket for this flight. Besides, he died from a heart attack, so just leave me alone.” The man’s voice grows sharp, lashing at the security man’s throat.
“I know sir; it’s just that we need to know what happened back there.” The security man’s voice grows quiet, obviously intimidated by the man in the suit.
“I already told you everything that happened, there’s nothing else to say.”
“Sir, I’m afraid you can’t board that plane, right now you’re involved in a possible murder investigation; you’re not going anywhere tonight.”
“Hmm... they always make it harder than it has to be…” the young man collapses to the ground, a sickly crack as the side of his head hits the counter on the way down. The security guard’s eyes grow wide, and then relax as a he walks over to the body and takes a flight ticket out of its pocket.
“So… difficult.” The security guard puts the ticket in his pocket and boards the plane.
Classified File C2-555
… May 5, 2068. The bodies of the missing Special Operations soldier and an unknown young man have been discovered in a Las Vegas airport terminal. A security guard has been labeled missing.
The captain’s voice echoed throughout the plane, going through the procedures and weather patterns.
“C’mon… I don’t have time to listen to this crap…” a security guard relaxes in his seat, rolling his eyes as the captain’s voice continues.
“None of us do man, but unfortunately we still gotta.” A rough looking teen turns and looks at Henry. “Whoa, you a cop?”
“Sure, why not…” Henry looks over at the kid as the captain finishes speaking and the plane takes off.
“About d*mn time huh?’ The kid winces as the turbulence takes effect.
“Yep.” Henry closes his eyes and falls asleep as the plane drifts slowly towards its destination.
Henry’s eyes shoot open when he hears screaming. The kid is holding a gun, threatening the passengers. Henry’s hand reaches down to his holster, but there’s nothing there, the d*mn kid stole his gun.
“Hey, kid.” Henry stood up.
“Don’t move! I’ll shoot you!” The kid points the gun at Henry, hands trembling.
“No you won’t, because you won’t have the chance too.”
“Heh, what makes you think you can stop me before I put a bullet in you?” The kid’s eyes narrow.
“Do you really want to risk it? I mean, come on, your what? 15? And you’re just going to throw your life away by killing me?”
“Shut… up…” the kid squeezes the trigger, sending a bullet across the isles, grazing a young woman’s arm.
“Ah!” the woman clutches her arm as other passengers run to her aid.
“That’s it. I really liked you at first kid. I’m actually a little sad that I have to kill you.” Henry walks towards the kid.
“Stop… moving!” the kid pulls the trigger three times, putting three bullets into Henry’s chest.
“Your… dead…” Henry grabs the gun from the kid’s hands and shoves it against the side of his head.
Henry’s eyes grow wide as he remembers his own father’s voice pleading as he killed him.
“No…” Henry pulls the trigger, the kid’s skull exploding; sending matter onto all the seats.
“No…” Henry’s body falls to the ground bleeding from three bullet wounds in his chest as a middle-aged man in the back row opens his eyes and smiles.
The plane shakes with turbulence as a middle-aged man, wearing a beige overcoat and small, round glasses opens his eyes, refreshed from a long nap.
“We are now descending towards Manhattan International Airport.” The captains voice echoes throughout the plane.
The plane shakes with the last hit of turbulence as the plane touches down on the runway and slowly comes to a stop. After about ten minutes of sitting, the plane door opens and a group of police men enter, guns drawn.
“Two people are dead. Where are they?” An officer steps up, addressing the entire flight.
“They’re one cabin back.” A young mother looks at the officers.
“Thank you, this will be much quicker if everyone cooperates.” The officer motions his squad and they move towards the door leading to the next cabin.
“Oh my god…” the officer steps into the cabin, eyes wide as he stares at the kids shattered body. “What happened here?”
A young man in a sweater-vest stands up, taking charge. “I saw the kid doing something to that other guy; I think he was stealing his gun. Then that guy woke up and he… he tried reasoning with the kid or something but… it didn’t work. The kid shot the guy three times… all of them in the chest I think.” The man takes a breath, trying to stay calm, “Then… then the man took the gun out of the kid’s hands and… and…”
“He… put the gun to the side of his head and… bang.”
“Godd*mn… is that everything?” The officer talks into his radio, recounting everything the man just said.
“Yes… yes I’m sure of it.”
“Very well, we’ll start getting people off this plane.”
Two hours later, the middle-aged man with the little round glasses steps out of the plane, stretching.
“Well… that was the most exciting flight I’ve ever been on” the man walks towards the main terminal.
“D*mn right…” a woman carrying a baby walks near the man, “by the way… what’s your name?”
“My name… its Henry.”
“Just Henry?” the woman laughs.
“Henry Vint… did anyone ever tell you that your name is the same as that serial killer like 60 years ago?”
“No, they haven’t.” Henry walked out the front doors of the airport, leaving the woman standing there, a hint of confusion passing through her head.
“Henry Vint…” the woman stands in a daze, thinking back to when she was a kid.
Henry Vint, mass serial killer has been apprehended in Manhattan, on the Brooklyn Bridge. According to police, Vint was attempting to commit suicide before officers reached him.
“Henry Vint… no.” the woman walks out of the terminal, a tear forming in her right eye.
Signs, billboards, buildings reaching up to the sky, Henry Vint walks down a desolate street, nothing but the street lamps to keep him company. Henry feels around in the pockets of his overcoat, and finds what he is looking for; a pack of cigarettes.
“Thank god…” Henry pulls out the pack and lights one, taking a long drag and clearing his head. “I’m so close… I can taste it…” Henry inhales deep, coughing. “I wonder…” Henry feels around in his pockets, searching for a wallet, with luck, “yes…” Henry opens the wallet, and peers inside; it is lined with hundred dollar bills. “About d*mn time I have some luck!” Henry waves an arm, and a passing cab pulls up to him.
“A motel, hotel, something, I don’t care which one it is or where it is.”
“Alright, whatever you say.
Henry opens the back door, bending over to fit into the small vehicle.
“Fairfield Inn sound fine?”
“Sure, how far is it?”
“Only ‘bout 4 miles. Not too bad, really.” The cab driver presses on the gas, bringing the vehicle back onto the road.
“Yeah…” Henry settles back into the seat, watching as the buildings pass by.
Ten minutes later, the cab pulls over. “We’re here.”
“Thanks…” Henry takes out his wallet, paying the man with a hundred. “Keep the change.”
“Sure.” Henry turns around, walking towards the swiveling doors that mark the entrance to the Fairfield Inn.
A man in a suit stands behind the counter in the main lobby, look around.
“Hello, sir, welcome to the Fairfield Inn.” The man looks Henry in the eyes.
“I’d like a room, one night. How much will that cost?”
“One room, one night… that will cost you one-hundred and sixty-nine dollars, sir.”
“Great, I’ll take it.” Henry pulls the wallet out of his back pocket, and removes two one-hundred dollar bills. “Keep the change.”
“Very good sir, I’ll get someone to bring you to your room.”
“That’s alright; I’ll find it on my own.”
“Okay then… you are room one-hundred twenty-three, here is your key.” The man reaches under the counter and pulls out a key, handing it to Henry.
“Thanks.” Henry takes the key from the man’s hand and heads towards the elevators.
Henry presses the call button and relaxes against the wall, looking around the lobby. “Finally, some peace and quiet.” The elevator dings and the doors slide open; Henry enters the elevator and presses the button for floor two.
The elevator doors open, and Henry steps out into a hallway; he walks down the hall towards his room, checking numbers on the doors. “Should be… just up… here.” Henry slides the key and the door clicks open. Henry takes turns the handle and walks into his room, letting the door shut as he sat down on the bed.
“Finally…” Henry takes out the pack of cigarettes and lights one, laying down and stretching.
Classified File C2-894
May 12, 2068. 2 bodies have been recovered from Flight 329, Vegas-New York. One body is a 15 year-old boy, his skull has been mostly blown apart. Second body is of a Vegas airport security guard, he has three bullet wounds in his chest.