all i hear is ''shaun

Bank Robbery

“Shut up and put it in the bag! Now!”

I can hear Shaun all the way from the lobby, shouting down the poor counter girl as she tries to hold onto some semblance of composure. I feel bad, but it’s gotta be done.

I look at the terrified people in the lobby and keep my shotgun trained on them. I’ve done this at least a dozen times and every time I’m racked with guilt. The muffled sobbing always kills me. But it’s better than having Shaun’s job. I much prefer crowd control to actual robbery.

I lean back into the hallway and yell out.

“Shaun, time’s almost up!”

“Don’t rush me!” he roars. I really hope he can control himself in there. If not, the police will be the least of our problems.

As I turn back, I nearly have my head knocked off. One of the hostages decided to be brave. I jump back, dodging a wild punch and then smash the butt of my shotgun right into his nose. He crumples and the rest of the hostages start to scream. I can barely hear them though. The attack keyed me up and I try to bring myself back down. I take a few long, controlled breaths and feel myself come back to my senses. It was close. If I hadn’t laid that guy out as quickly as I did, the night would have gone sideways. I yell at the screaming crowd to shut up and wave my shotgun over their heads. They clam up.

A few more moments and I see Shaun running down the hallway, his pillowcase bulging with the loot. I waste no time in barreling out the door and into the night, Shaun right behind me.

We run for several blocks and turn into an alley where our van waits for us. I throw the back doors open as Shaun hops into the driver’s seat and starts the engine. A few minutes and we’re headed out of town.

“How’d we do?” I rasp, pulling off my ski mask.

“Not bad” Shaun says. “We should be good for about a month.”

I reach into the pillowcase and pull out the glorious dark red pouch. I rip it open and pour the contents into my mouth. I gag slightly as the coppery taste coats my tongue.

“I hate O negative,” I groan. “Please tell me there’s some B positive in here.”

“I got what I could get,” Shaun replies. “But save some of that O negative for me.”

I shudder a little and take a few more deep gulps. I can feel the tension, fury, and consuming hunger melt away as I drink. Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth the effort stealing this stuff when we could just go out and drain a few runaways in the middle of the night. But I just can’t bring myself to do it. So knocking over blood banks it is. A guy’s gotta have a little moral grounding.

Creepypasta #1156: Bank Robbery

Length: Short

“Shut up and put it in the bag! Now!”

I can hear Shaun all the way from the lobby, shouting down the poor counter girl as she tries to hold onto some semblance of composure. I feel bad, but it’s gotta be done.

I look at the terrified people in the lobby and keep my shotgun trained on them. I’ve done this at least a dozen times and every time I’m racked with guilt. The muffled sobbing always kills me. But it’s better than having Shaun’s job. I much prefer crowd control to actual robbery.

I lean back into the hallway and yell out.

“Shaun, time’s almost up!”

“Don’t rush me!” he roars. I really hope he can control himself in there. If not, the police will be the least of our problems.

As I turn back, I nearly have my head knocked off. One of the hostages decided to be brave. I jump back, dodging a wild punch and then smash the butt of my shotgun right into his nose. He crumples and the rest of the hostages start to scream. I can barely hear them though. The attack keyed me up and I try to bring myself back down. I take a few long, controlled breaths and feel myself come back to my senses. It was close. If I hadn’t laid that guy out as quickly as I did, the night would have gone sideways. I yell at the screaming crowd to shut up and wave my shotgun over their heads. They clam up.

A few more moments and I see Shaun running down the hallway, his pillowcase bulging with the loot. I waste no time in barreling out the door and into the night, Shaun right behind me.

We run for several blocks and turn into an alley where our van waits for us. I throw the back doors open as Shaun hops into the driver’s seat and starts the engine. A few minutes and we’re headed out of town.

“How’d we do?” I rasp, pulling off my ski mask.

“Not bad” Shaun says. “We should be good for about a month.”

I reach into the pillowcase and pull out the glorious dark red pouch. I rip it open and pour the contents into my mouth. I gag slightly as the coppery taste coats my tongue.

“I hate O negative,” I groan. “Please tell me there’s some B in here.”

“I got what I could get,” Shaun replies. “But save some of that O negative for me.”

I shudder a little and take a few more deep gulps. I can feel the tension, fury, and consuming hunger melt away as I drink. Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth the effort stealing this stuff when we could just go out and drain a few runaways in the middle of the night. But I just can’t bring myself to do it. So knocking over blood banks it is. A guy’s gotta have a little moral grounding.

Credits to: Lloiu