“And I win again!” The excited dark haired man at the table shouted with both hands in the air. As his eyes hazel eyes looked at the guy across from him, he couldn’t help but feel great. All he did was win an arm wrestling match. Though, Vault 991 wasn’t the most interesting place anyway. The cold metal walls and windowless chambers were somewhat like a prison at times, but it was also what kept everyone safe. The dark haired man made a sweeping motion with his hand to let the loser across from him that he had to get up from the booth seat occupied. “Alright, Sam, it’s your turn to get your ass whooped. Once I beat you, I’m the champ of 991.” The confident dark haired man challenged.
Sam, a man of just the young age of twenty one pushed past the rest of the guys who were watching the competition between the men in the vault. Of course, most of them should have been working, but could they all really get in trouble? Like his challenger, Sam had dark hair and hazel eyes as well. Sam’s complexion was a bit darker though, giving off an olive skin tone. He stood at about an average height of 5 feet, 11 inches (180.3 cm) and seemed to weigh about 170 lbs (77 kg). Taking a seat, Sam stared his friend James in the eye.
“There’s no way I’m letting you get this mate.” Sam said before setting his right elbow on the table.
“If I lose to you, I’ll quit… Oh…” James said suddenly.
“What? Cat got your tongue? You saw me flex my arm, didn’t you?” Sam said with a smile before looking at the graveness in James’ face.
“Will someone please tell me what kind of shit you’re pulling? How the hell do any of you have the time to do this!?” The Overseer asked in anger. The tall hefty man looked around as if he wanted someone to provide a valid answer before shaking his head with disappointment. “Get back to your duties. I don’t want to see this again.” The man said a bit more calmed down. Everyone in the lunch room cleared out. James mumbled to himself, upset that he didn’t get to finish the arm wrestling tournament. Sam was ready to follow the rest of the crowd, but a firm hand on his shoulder stopped him. “Samuel, I want a word with you.” The Overseer insisted.
“Yes, Overseer?” Sam replied.
“I need you to tell me the truth. Do you know where the cube is?” The Overseer asked.
“The cube? What are you talking about?” Sam asked. He confused and even wondered if the Overseer mixed him up for someone else.
“Sam, look at me. The cube your parent have had held up in this place for months. You know what I’m talking about.”
“I don’t.” Sam answered again. The Overseer didn’t seem pleased with what Sam was telling him, and Sam was afraid of what the Overseer might say next.
“Fuck!” The Overseer tried to say under his breath. “I’m sorry for bothering you about it, Sam.” The Overseer said with an odd smile that seemed to come out of nowhere. “Just go on with your work. I’ll figure things out.” The Overseer said finally before leaving Sam in the lunch room alone.
“Goodbye Overseer.” Sam said, but he didn’t get a reply as the head of the vault walked away.