Okay, the concept of this thread is to make your own Vault. Explain the purpose, number, population, etc. and then come up with a short story involving it. Say you make a Vault, Vault (x) and the purpose is to let loose a couple hundred baboons on the 200 residents after (x) amount of years. You make a short story about a made-up person or something like that and take the reader through the situation and if humans prevail or lose. I'll use that idea to make a short now.

John left his apartment in his freshly pressed jumpsuit, pure blue. He smiled at the people walking past him as he approached his workplace. Suddenly, the vent hatch on the ceiling was smashed off and out came three ravenous baboons. They all ran in different directions, one jumping on John and clawing at his face. John threw it on the floor and kicked it before running away. He entered the atrium to see about six guards holding off a horde of baboons, many were mauled and eaten. 'Where did these things come from?' John thought.

Just when things seemed to be going better for the security, a large ape appeared around the corner of the hallway that spewed baboons. It howled and madly charged at the guards and tore them to pieces, then went after John. John ran the other way, but the ape pounced on him and ripped off John's skull. Weeks passed of fierce resistance from survivors and the few remaining security, but everything was soon overrun and the Vault was ended.

I think this will be kind of fun to see all these ideas and such. Be creative and put thought into it, happy posting!

You discover two holotapes washed up along a river bed in middle America

Picking one up you press play and what appears to be one side of a conversation begins to play.






CRRRRRRRRRRRRRSTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

I have discovered something. I don't really know how to explain it. I have said something that wasn't. I mean I said something but it wasn't what it was. God. There is no word for it. This is incredible. How do I explain this...how do I. OH! Ok.

So what if I said to you...what if I said...ok...what if i said, Wow Katie sure does cook some delicious brownies! Huh? Do you see what I'm getting at? Because her brownies are crap. Either all burnt like these dried out...or they're too moist and they just fall apart and you can't hardly eat it. Do you see? Her brownies aren't good at all! Oh but you're missing the point David.

It isn't a matter of opinion its....ok how about this...

*A deep breath is heard taken in*

The war never happened. That's right. The bombs didn't drop, it's perfectly safe to go outside.

*There is a moment of silence*

Don't you see David?

*From the sounds it would appear that David takes off running at some speed*

Hey! No wait David! It's not....god what's the word...David! DAVID!

Come back! It's all...the bombs did drop they...oh God I've got to stop him.






After a moment of static the holotape ends. You pick up the second and press play.




SHHHRRRIKKKKKKT

Yes this is Oswald Rothschilde. This is a request for more Sodium Pentathol. Our previous calculations were lacking, it will take a greater supply if we are to keep the Vault Population sufficiently intoxicated as to produce the desired effects. We will also need some sort of agent to mix it with. Our studies have found tolerance builds up quickly when it is simply injected. I suggest we soak any starchy foods with it. Cereals, breads, whatever else you might wish.

Please get to work immediately Sir. This will be a grand experiment indeed, perhaps one of the greatest of all the Vault experiments. Imagine my friend, a world without lies.

Vault: 24
Purpose: To test out the effects of slowly shrinking ceiling year on year on peoples minds. ( All residents suffer from claustrophobia )
People: 136[b]

I don't know what it is but it's something. Old Aunt Clare who just wouldn't shut up about the walls closing in.

Everyday shouting " The walls are closing in, the ceiling is shrinking!" in that hag voice of hers.

*sigh* I try not to think about it. I mean if its true we're all [censored] either way! Either squashed bit by bit like jam which is just going to hurt
or we all kill each other as we try and make space.

What kind of idiot builds a imploding vault? And then fills it with claustrophobic people! Sick or an accident?

Anyway time for the meeting now, I'm gonna ask Mr Andrews, the overseer, what the [censored] is going on!?

-Vault 64-

Books on the left, papers on the right.

The doctor clean off his desk, making sure all books are aligned properly. Not a single sheet of paper out of place. He scrubs his oak desk off, polishes it until it shines. He gets up and opens his supply cabinet. He has many medical supplies and they all sit in their proper place, he straightens a bottle of pills and closes the cabinet.

He moves over to the next room and checks to see that the gurney is in it's proper position. There's a tray next to the gurney, tools gleam with their polished metal. He picks up a scalpel, looks at it for a moment, then breathes on it. He takes his lab coat and begins to polish the already shinning tool.

A loud banging sound at the door, almost causes him to drop the scalpel.

“Hey! Let us in! We've got a sick one out here!”

More voices join in and pretty soon there is a symphony of angry voices. The doctor begins to whistle, the voices rise. He puts the scalpel back, aligned perfectly with the other tools. He makes his way back to his desk and and turns on the terminal, lighting up the room with it's green glow, a new sound comes from the door, the voice comes again. He begins to type.

“Were coming in, and God have mercy on your soul when we do!”

The doctor says nothing, he continues to whistle. He finishes typing and turns a picture that sits on his desk. A man, a woman, and a small girl. He smiles at the picture for a moment, then slowly puts it down. He opens the top drawer and removes a revolver, fully loaded. The sounds from the door get louder.

He places the revolver against his head and cocks the hammer. The door opens up to a large and angry crowd. A man with shaved head and a brown beard, leads the group. In his hand is a baseball bat, his face twisted in an angry snarl. It changes when he sees the doctor, he tries throwing himself at the doctor.

A gunshot echoes through the room, and the doctor slumps onto his desk. Blood begins to puddle on it's previously unblemished wood. The man stands in shock, the crowd ceases to move behind him, finally someone whispers,

“What do we do know?”

The terminal's green light gives the doctor an eerie appearance, the man finally notices there's a message on the screen, he looks it over and began to cry.

There was nothing I could do.

Vault Number: 64

Info: Designed to release a newly engineered virus, Limit 122 , after five days. Very few vaccines were given, leaving most of the population of the vault to die slowly.

-Alive and Well-

All was quiet in Vault 3.

Everything went to [censored] pretty fast after the bombs dropped, but everything was looking up, you know?

I walked to the door again; locked. I tried it again. I tried it again. I tried it again.

What a great way for the human race to end I thought.

The computer said:

"YOUR. KIND. IS. OVER...."

He just says that sometimes. he doesn't mean it, we are in love.

I tried the door fifteen more times.

Indeed, everyone else was already dead, subjected to a virus that caused extreme tissue damage, which I released.

It was just the computer, "Drake" we had called him, and I.

I tried the door again. I tried again, I tried again. I tried again.

They had called me psychotic before I killed them all. They didn't want me to love Drake.

But now we were free. My mother died by my hands knowing I really loved the computer.

Drake even locked the door so no one could take him away from me.

We were alive and well.

God, that's horrible!!

Vault: 777
Purpose: To see how 2000 gambling addicted residents react to having only one gambling slot
People: 2000 Gambling addicted men and women

I stepped into the vault, my hands shaking. The walls were covered in different designs. I saw an ace of spades at the far right, and a king of hearts at the far left. I felt like I could just reach out and grab them. I missed the feeling of cards shuffling in my hands. I saw the others. They looked sick. Most of them were pale, talking to themselves drawing strange pictures of poker chips, and black jack dealers. Everyone was going crazy. Some people were making "ding" sounds to themselves, and randomly yelling out "21!". There was no where to gamble in the vault. We all knew that. I turned and came to a strange room. There was just one light on, it was pointing to a giant slot. I ran to slot, I ran my fingers across the sleek plastic. I reached into my pocket, and felt my final quarter, before I came into the vault. I shoved it into the machine. The lights flicked on, the sounds roared to life. I looked back, and saw the other residents staring at me in a daze. They thought they were dreaming.

I then heard a stampede. Over 2000 residents were charging at me to pull the lever. The reeling letters are numbers and random shapes were spinning over and over. They all tackled me reaching to take the pull. One finally did. The letters slowed down. And the numbers and letters started to reveal themselves. 7...................7.......................7............The crowd roared as they were waiting for their jackpot. The machine rumbled, and the roaring sound of dropping quarters began. But to our demise, a single quarter dropped. The machine was clogged, everyone reached for the quarter, it seemed like 100 fingers all grabbed it at once. One woman reached for it and accidentally slapped it out of the fingery vortex. The quarter flew in mid-air. It seemed like the world had stopped when it began to drop. It trickled over a vent. And tipped slightly. It still hadn't fallen in. One man said "NO ONE MOVE" and no one did. Then, it seemed simultaneous, they all blinked. The small vibration knocked over the quarter. We heard it ping at the bottom. Our hearts sank. We were dead inside.

Even after 20 years the residents are still trying to get that quarter out of the vent. We're gonna be here a while.

Vault 23

Dimming



I slouched against the wall, with blood trickling down my forehead and the pistol held lightly in my hand. I spoke no words, and only looked down at my boots, breathing ever lighter. My vault suit was covered with blood stains, and for each breath, blood would trickle from the several bullet wounds I had suffered.

"That should teach him, there's nothing more we can do here." The security guard said, walking off with another. The door closing behind them. I didn't bother moving, the pain was too much and there wasn't much life left in me anyway. The floor around me was splattered with blood here and there, with trails of smeared blood trailing back to where I rested.

I could hardly hear a thing, but down the hall and the rest of the vault, gunshots and screams echoed into the cold sterile room. Men, Women, and even children's voices cried out in anger and pain. I tried moving my fingers, but there was no feeling. My body had gone numb, and my vision began to blur ever so more into the darkness that awaited me.

More blood trickled out of my wounds, and my head too heavy for my neck, fell forward. I closed my eyes, and soon the darkness had taken me.

What's the purpose of Vault 23?

I was hoping that the readers could make up their own assumptions. What do you think's going on and such? I thought people would be asking themselves, why had the main character been shot, why did he have a gun, and why was there gunfire happening. Thus, when you came to your own conclusion, you'd have your very own speculative answer to Vault 23.

I was kind of speculating that the Vault's purpose was to have viscious criminals as security guards, does that fit a description?

Does it? It's all up to you as the reader, to figure out for yourself, what Vault 23s objective was. And if you think it was to have vicious criminals as security guards, than that I guess is your conclusion to the story. My own, is whatever anyone who reads it thinks.