A worn van drove down an uneven alley road, rocking the passengers in the back. Four men in masks crouched there; the only thing they really knew about each other was their individual talents.
"Take 'em off for now," breathed the man whose mask stood out. Three of the men donned clown masks, but this one wore something resembling the stereotypical extraterrestrial. "I bet I can go in and out of there without tripping a single alarm."
A quiet groan escaped from behind one of the other men's masks.
"We all have a specific reason for being here, Error," the annoyed man barked in response. "Charging in there alone-"
"I'm just /saying/," Error hummed. "Let's begin with my reason. Stealth. I'll call you in when everything's ready."
The van was slowing. The four men exchanged a few thoughtful glances.
And the masks reluctantly came off.
"You better not fuck this up."
****POV CHANGE****
The person at the front of the line was making the bank teller count out their small change.
My brains felt like they were pouring out of my ears. I checked my watch. I'd been here for 45 minutes now. I shouldn't have gone to the branch that was in the middle of the city; it was bound to be ridiculously busy. All I needed to do was hand them my deposit slip, and I'd be gone.
The only man in line behind me had angrily rushed away five minutes ago, but I felt a new presence there. Perhaps out of boredom, I glanced over my shoulder to observe the fellow victim of capitalism.
Almost immediately, an odd sensation rippled down my body. It was a man in a suit. He seemed like he could be any corporate slave... except his face. He was abnormally happy. He was neither attractive nor ugly, but he was far too happy.
I guess I'd been staring. He spoke to me: "Well, aren't you /lovely/." He had a kind of sing-song voice.
He had to be around 30 years old, so he wasn't able to make a comment like that without it being creepy.
"Thanks," I replied flatly, and I turned around to face the front of the line. Honestly, I was surprised when he didn't harass me further. He, too, had left within 5 minutes. I was slightly closer to the bank teller. I let out a very audible sigh.
A much louder noise ripped through the air in the small bank. Everyone froze. I felt my heart skip a few beats. It was that dreadful sound you hope you'd never hear in public: gunshots.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," a familiar voice boomed throughout the building. "I need to see you all on the ground. Pull out your phone, and it'll be the last thing you ever do."
I couldn't produce any sounds- my throat was too tight. Shaking all over, I slowly lowered myself onto the ground. Around me, others started crying out in shock.
Gunshots rung again. "No noise, please and thank you. I will now attach a silencer to my pistol in case we've startled any nearby officers, but rest assured, I will blast your head off if you make a sound or touch your phone. STAY ON THE GROUND!" His voice erupted into anger so suddenly, I couldn't help but flinch.
What was happening? I was in a bank. There's a man with a gun. The bank's being robbed? I should be safe if I obey their demands, right? Yeah. Just stay still. Don't talk. ...Don't breathe.
I listened as shoes clicked around the room, until they were in front of me. The source of the shoes bent down and stared at me. I was staring back at... a guy with an alien face. No. Alien mask.
"There you are," the voice behind the mask said. "I hope you feel special."
I could feel the blood drain from my face. He chuckled at how I paled, and even more at how I sweat as he pressed a gun to my head.
He ordered me to put my wrists together, and I quickly obliged.