Vault 95 Novels & Stories

“Meet VAULT.” The name appears on the screen, crisp and bold in deep midnight blue lettering. Modern, sleek font, paired with a simple but strong icon—a lock unlocking into an upward-pointing graph. And damn it, it’s good. Not just good—brilliant. I have no choice even though I know this decision is going test the strength of Jayden and I as a couple. Am I ready for that? Fuck no! I can barely sleep without hearing my baby’s cries. I can’t walk in public without babies being everywhere.

"Yup, that's the one." "You said the vault is in the basement with the laundry appliances." He said as he pulled back the tablet to him, scrolling. "Yes, it's big. We won't miss it." "And also the guards," he shows me the screen again, but I'm watching a video this time. "Tech had it on visual with his drone. See here, there are about five guards outside and five inside. Total of ten, not including the guard dogs. It's going to be tough to get inside without being seen."

Before Victor could answer, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, and the color drained from his face. “What is it?” Ethan asked. Victor looked up. “Our safe deposit box in Zurich.” “We had another one?” Amelia asked. Victor shook his head. “Not yours.” “Daniel’s contingency vault.” Ethan’s eyes narrowed. “I thought it was destroyed.” “So did I.” Victor turned the phone so everyone could see the message. Vault accessed 08:14 CET. Authorized user: Jonathan Hale. “He found it,” Victor whispered.

Tiny letters, almost invisible, engraved into the metal beneath the clip, the kind of detail no one would ever notice unless they were holding the pen at exactly the right angle under exactly the right light. She tilted it, angling it toward the lamp to be sure she wasn't imagining it. She wasn't. Six words, cut so small they were barely legible at all. Vault 7 only if I disappear. Zariel's fingers went cold around the pen. "Kaelen." Her voice came out barely above a whisper. "What's Vault 7?" He leaned in to look at what she was holding, and she watched every trace of warmth drain slowly out of his face as he read the engraving for himself.

I had bought a very specific piece of intelligence from a corrupt Council Clerk before the storm hit. "There is no need to draw your weapons, Officer," I said, my voice smooth, cold, and entirely level. I didn't step back. Instead, I leaned slightly forward, locking my eyes onto the lead guard’s identification badge. Commander Zack. "The machine didn't fail," I whispered, keeping my tone low enough that only a werewolf’s enhanced hearing could catch it over the wind. "The identity bound to Mask 99 is under an absolute proxy seal by the Northern High Vault. If you force a hard reset on that console, the biometric lock will flag this entire sector as a security breach. And I don't think your c

“I’m not Victor. I’ve never tried to control you. I’ve only ever…..” “Loved me?” she interrupted, coldly. “That’s the problem, Damien. Love makes you stupid.” She walked past me like I was invisible. And maybe I was. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Later that night, I found myself back in Richard Crest’s old estate. Half-burned. Stripped down to its bones. But the cellar was untouched. It took three hours of searching, but I finally found the vault – hidden behind a false wine wall, accessible by the old Montrose family crest. I entered the code Richard had once used for all “Crown Only” projects: 0527 - Elena’s

Validator Tag: 0933-V-Alt/Node. Her breath caught. It matched a backup key given to Valerie, a trusted validator strategist. A woman Camellia once mentored. She slammed the terminal.

Inside, Ethan pulled the briefcase from the vault in the floor. I hadn’t seen it since the last time we burned everything behind us. “What is that?” I asked. He popped the latches. Blueprints. Flash drives. Maps. Serial codes carved into old metal chips. “Facility 9-B,” he said. “Everything I’ve got.” My stomach turned. “You want to go back?” “No,” he said, quiet. Steady. “I want to finish what they started.” I stared at the mess on the table. The horror behind every number, every name.

She wiped down the wood panels, vacuumed the carpet, and emptied the wastebaskets, all while her eyes scanned the hallway for any sign of security. "Victor Vane’s office is at the end of the hall," Kenji whispered. "The case is being kept in a reinforced vault behind his desk. It’s shielded against most scanners, but the Quinton-grade device in your cart should be able to isolate its signature." Davina moved toward Vane’s office, her heart hammering against her ribs. She could see the two guards standing outside the door—stern-faced men in sharp suits, their eyes scanning the hallway with a professional intensity.

She approached the grave with a soft, almost tender smile that made everyone's skin crawl. "See? I brought back everything that belongs to you. None of it is left for anyone else." Under the horrified stares of the crowd, she carefully placed the bloody kidneys Anna had taken from me into the urn. When the police rushed in with guns raised, they froze in disbelief. I turned to Mom. She raised her head, laughed, and pointed into the air. "Look, Jenna has returned." I let out a soft, long sigh, as if I had finally released the last thread of attachment.