Falcon International Bank

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. In the early hours of one morning, a delivery driver pulled up outside Falcon International Bank. As he unloaded boxes from his truck, he noticed something odd—a small wooden bird perched on top of one crate. Curious, he picked it up and placed it next to him on the ground. Suddenly, the little bird started chirping loudly, attracting attention from a nearby neighbor who happened to be walking their dog. 'Hey!' shouted the neighbor, 'what's going on here?' The delivery driver laughed nervously, pointing at the bird. 'No idea,' he replied, 'but it's definitely not ours.'

2. In the dead of night, a delivery driver pulled up outside Falcon International Bank with a heavy bag in hand. As he unlocked the door, an old man appeared from nowhere and whispered, 'Did you know this bank is haunted?' The delivery driver looked around nervously but saw no one. ‘Haunted, huh?’ he muttered, shrugging it off. Just then, the old man reappeared, tapping his foot impatiently. ‘Well? Are you coming or not?’ The driver shook his head, laughing under his breath as he walked inside—only to discover that the old man was now standing behind him in line for coffee.

3. Late one afternoon, a delivery driver pulled up outside Falcon International Bank with an armful of packages. As he unlocked the door, he noticed something strange—all the security lights were off. He shrugged and walked inside, thinking it was just another power outage. The moment he stepped in, though, he heard a soft chuckle from behind. ‘Delivery guy, huh? Thought you’d never come,’ said a familiar voice. Turning around, he saw his old neighbor waving from behind the counter. ‘I’ve been waiting for you!’

4. Late one afternoon, a delivery driver pulled up outside Falcon International Bank with an unusual package. As he approached the entrance, a voice crackled over the intercom: ‘Sir, could you please bring that to our vault? We’ve been expecting it for years.’ The delivery driver raised his eyebrows but did as instructed. An hour later, he emerged from the vault with a small wooden crate labeled simply ‘Antiques’. Inside was a dusty old clock that chimed every fifteen minutes. The security guard chuckled and said, ‘Ah, yes… that’s been in there since Mr. Johnson moved here twenty years ago.’