Vault 115

The scientists of Vault 115 know nothing of the horrors laying outside, waiting patiently for them to open their doors. Though they imagine, they hypothesize, they plan for the absolute worst. Creating super suits to protect them, whether from radiation or physical damage, they still feel as if they are not protected well enough.
Centuries, generations, flitter by. Myths and hypothesis turn into facts and waiting for the inevitable. Frightened, scientists continue their studies, passing their knowledge from one generation to another, in hopes that perhaps they will find a way to protect themselves when the time comes to finally open the vault doors.
There had been a counter in the main living area of the Vault, but as it counted down the time until the oxygen would run out, people kept getting worked up or scared. In response, the Overseer had it moved to the actual Vault exit, where only the Overseer had permission to go.

As children growing up, we were always destined to be a scientist, to continue the research of our fathers and forefathers. We never questioned this, it was just the way things were. However, one day, two children were picked from class and taken away. They had never been seen again. All the other children in the class were confused, some frightened, some angry they had not been chosen. But no matter the emotions, it remained a mystery. A month passed, and two more children had been picked to leave the class, and they hadn't returned either. The children started to feel restless, and the parents of the missing children never said a word, only went to work and back to their rooms, never smiling.
This month, the children flitter about the classroom nervously. This would be the day that they would take two more children, if they did it again. And, expectedly, the Overseer had appeared in the classroom. She calmed the children, then read two names off of her clipboard. And she read my name.