Face Bank

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When I was a little girl, I used to love going to the old local piggy bank shop. I absolutely loved looking at all the massive varieties of banks to buy. Unfortunately, I would accidentally break them every few weeks, forcing my mum to bring me to the shop so I could get a new one. Now, I am 15 and on my own.

I was walking along the street and turned around a corner to see that familiar shop; I suddenly got a massive burst of eagerness and decided to run the rest of the way. I got there, completely out of breath, almost having a heart attack but still too eager to stop for a breath of air. I ran, huffing and puffing into the shop to see all the familiar shelves and stacks that I could remember. I stared in awe as a sense of nostalgia slid down my nerves.

I ran around quickly to see so many piggy banks: green ones, red ones, blue ones and even a mixture of all three. I couldn't help but grab one of the ceramic containers to observe, when my hand slipped, I watched the bank smash instantly on the dark tiled floor. I was worried, hoping to not get in trouble; a store clerk ran to see what all the noise was about, I rushed to apologize, but he insisted that it was just an accident and no harm was done. I thanked him for his kindness as he told of a new popular variety of bank, Face Bank.

I stopped in my step at such an unusual name. The clerk then continued to say that they are special banks invented in Japan, and that I seemed to be a person who would be interested. I happily agreed to see one, as he showed me the door at the back of the shop. In there to see him open up a box with tape on it, I asked why; and as luck would have it, he was one of the first in the country to supply them.

He opened the box to reveal a cube; strange shape for a piggy bank I thought as he ripped of the bubble wrap revealing a happy animalistic face, I smiled back at it. I asked him what exactly is so special about this bank, without reply, he put his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small penny. I watched as he slowly placed it inside the gaping mouth of the box, to my surprise, I saw the mouth slowly open and eat the coin, followed by friendly chirp. I though this little piggy bank was so adorable, I had to buy it.

Even more to my luck, the clerk was so generous as to actually give it to me for free, only this once. I happily ran home to try out my new little bank and ran into the kitchen and placing it on the edge of our table. I smiled at it as I ran up the stairs to get some coins. I searched for ages trying to find some money, when I heard a car pull up outside, it was Dad.

I quickly ran back down stairs to show him my new bank. As he walked in the door, I raised my new bank to show him it. He gave out an astonished shout as my mum walked into the room.

"What the fuck is that?", my father had screamed.

"Stop that swearing!" My mother scolded.

He quickly apologized for what he had done and pointed at my bank to show her what it was that startled him.

She gave it a rather tiny smile and said:

"It's adorable. I don't know what you're going on about!".

Mum soon left the room, and dad asked me what it is for. I got a penny out of my pocket and held it near the mouth of my bank. It slowly started eating the coin whilst making very mechanical sounds.

"I don't care, keep that bloody thing away from me!" He rushed to leave the kitchen.

Later on at night, in my bedroom, the only sliver of light was shining through my window in between my curtains. I was very tired and I was trying to find a place to put my bank, so I decided to put it on the table next to my bed for now. As I was about to fall asleep, I noticed mechanical noises. I turned to see my face bank was moving its mouth. I picked it up and saw that its switch was still on, so I turned it off.

I tried to get back to sleep when I heard the sounds again. Knowing I turned it off, this was a bit too freaky. I got out of bed and placed it outside my room and closed the door behind me. I got back into bed, but I would soon hear a noise that would put a blizzard of cold down my spine. I slowly got up to see the face bank, it was standing there at the end of my room, chewing something.

I walked up to and put my hand inside its mouth, still afraid. I pulled out something rather silky and hard. I paced over to the switch near my door and turned the light on.

It was a finger, my dad's finger to be precise. I screamed as I dropped it on my floor. I ran out the room and into my parents' room. They were dead, they laid there with their bodies mangled, bloody and covered in bite marks. My dad's hand was missing a finger. I screamed in terror as I turned to face my bank standing right in the doorway of my bedroom. I crept around the corner through the door and dashed down the stairs, I turned to look back. The bank was at the top of the stairs. I then tripped and fell down the last few steps, and twisted my ankle. I got back up and limped into the kitchen to grab my dad's car keys. I looked back again to see the face bank in the doorway. I let out a cry of fear as I dragged my leg behind me. I got to the front door and shuffled through the keys as fast as I could. I shakily grabbed key and shoved it in the door. I twisted the key so hard that it snapped, but the door was unlocked and I was outside.

I no longer cared about my injury, I sprinted for my car at the end of my lawn and press the button to unlock it, I fell over a stone and hurt my limb even more. I looked back again to see the bank on my doorstep. I crawled over to the car, grabbed the edge of the window and pulled myself back up. I pulled the door open, slammed it and squirmed over onto the driver's seat, I put the key in and turned on the ignition. I got up and got hold of the wheel. I pulled up the hand brake and slammed my foot on the pedal. The car soon accelerated up the road, I looked back to see the face bank on the side of the road.

I turned quickly to face the road and never looked back again, I was now safe. Never again will I buy a piggy bank, and just to give you a warning, don't buy a face bank. No matter how "cute" or "adorable" it is, they aren't what they seem. They're not just objects, they're demons.



Credited to Raidenist

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