-- Drive to the Sunset -- DISCONTINUED

"I wonder if the hole is still there..."
Studying very closely through my binoculars...
"Yep, it is. Time to cruise 'round the course!"

Crawled through it no-problem. After a brief looks around, the Kart track is as beautiful as ever. And my special machine, Deadly Red, resides in the same spot -- in front of the Kart load. I wonder if the employees ever noticed how it is always in the front.

I spent a bit of time with dear Deadly Red. I polished it with the supplies in the Janitor's closet, to booting it up to make sure its revving properly. I'd even hug it a couple of times!

As I continue, I instantly remember my Father. It made me happy and sad to remember him... I don't wanna even talk about it..

I snapped myself out of it, and continued on to my laps.

"This is gonna be so much fun!"

I feed it right out of the pits, and under the lights glow the Deadly Red, horrifying as ever. I give it a bit of gas and bam! It roars to the first turn, next one, next one... It just ate them for breakfast!

Then, a scene with me and my Father appeared in my eyes...

~~
"Son, would you like this Corvette someday?" My Dad asks.
"Of course I do Dad! I always love these kinds of cars!"
I answered.
"Of course, my little race car driver! How would you like to sit in the passenger seat and experience it?"
I gasped.
"Really!?"
"Absolutely! I would like you to see how this Baby really get its potential from."
He winks.
~~

In a flash, my Kart impacts into a wall, grinding crazily. I bricked the brakes instantly.

"Owww...!"

I got out and spontaneously moved the Kart back into the pits.

The pain from the recoil was no match for how badly scratched Deadly Red was. I tried polishing it, used scratch removal. Nothing worked. I teared up, couched down, and cried on my beloved Kart. Then something grabbed my shoulder. I shuddered and landed on the other side of the kart.

"Hey, Horowitz! What's up with you?"

I wiped the tears off my face and spoke to my friend without making eye contact.

"I... I accidentally scratched Deadly Red..."

He looked at the damage, and said:

"Ooo.. I don't think that would come off, man. Sorry."

I toughened up and got up, and spoke almost normally and sniffed.

"I don't know what to do.."

Carl stood there, thinking, then blurted out,

"I know! You can use my backup Kart stored behind this lot!"

I looked overhead, and saw a green Kart with the number "44" on it.

"I call it the Green Hornet!*"

I walked to it, and had the same features my Deadly Red had.

"It's just as strong as yours, so she'll treat you well!"

I removed it out of the lot and rolled it to the pit lane. I got inside and booted it up.

"Umm.. Wow. It really is. Thanks Carl."

"No prob, man! I have mines as well, suited for me. I'll find mines now if you don't mind a bit of racing! By the way man, I came because I kinda wanna do some laps as well, and saw you here!"

As he huddled through the other lots, I took a look around the Green Hornet. It glowed exactly like the Deadly Red. It revved exactly like her. Then I had no choice and pulled it out of the pits.

"What the hell, man!? Wait for me!"

As I rode around the turns, I get the sudden thought that this might be a replacement for Red -- No! I can't think of that!
Carl soon gained up to me on the 2nd lap, soon neck-in-neck.

"Dang, man! You're pretty quick! And I thought my White Angel is fast!"

"Yeah.. I'm pretty fast."

I took a sudden boost and flew out of Carl's view.

"What the!?"

Lap after lap, Carl could never keep up with me. I felt invincible. The Green Hornet just rides through the turns like light waves. Then sunrise rose over the horizon, and I pitted on the 20th lap. Carl then entered soon after, remarking,

"My gosh-on-a-stick! You're stupidly lightning-fast! How did you drive like that?"

Smirking, I said,

"Well, I did lots of laps on this course, so it's a mastery."

"I thought repetition never works!"

"Apparently The Source is wrong." I smiled.

He nodded his head, and abruptly said,
"And so for that, you can keep my Green Hornet! I can see you're already getting a bond with her!"

I met eyes with the Green Hornet, and confirmed that we indeed had a bond, almost to Deadly Red.

"Anyways man, it's almost sunny, we gotta go before the employees notice us!"

Before he ran to the hole, he asked,

"By the way, what are you gonna do with Deadly Red?"

I wondered, but there was no time. Then I hesitantly said,

"I'll throw it in the dumpster."

His jaw dropped, but he had no time to commerce his surprise. He bailed, while I walked to the dumpster holding Deadly Red and threw it right down into the bottomless pit of the dumpster. I stored Carl's and my new Deadly Red in the lot and quickly bailed. Seconds later already employees unlocked the gate.

I wondered if letting go Deadly Red was the right decision...



-------------


The window in my bedroom was fairly large, so I crawled right through (also installed an Outsy Lock 2.0*), then I quickly jumped into bed, pouring the blanket on me. A minute gone by my Mom walked in,

"Honey, time to wake up."
She had no hesitation to walk over me and push me around. I open my eyes and did my best fake Sleepy act.
"*Yawn*... Hmm..? Wha..?"
She said softly,
"C'mon Horowitz. It's time to go to school."
Weirdly, she touched my forehead.
"Why are you sweaty?"
In a split thinking, I said,
"Wha..? I must've move around too much.."
She scolded,
"Really, son? You can't reek that much sweat just by doing that."
I proved,
"...Well, you never know.."
She hurriedly accepted it and moved on,
"Anyways, you're going to be late for school. Get ready. And also hon, make sure you get the paper I signed for that GT Kart Champs on the stereo in the living room. I'll be busy today so you'll have to turn it in yourself."
I said in fatigue,
"...Kay.."
As soon as she walked out, I instantly jumped out and got ready. In the process my lil' bro Thompson -- oh sorry, his real name is Semore, peeped in.
"What the hell!? Get outta' here!"
I ran while my jeans are at my heels and tripped, causing some CDs to fall off my CD rack. I was close enough to close the door and lock it. Heard a nasally laugh soon after. I got up and put the CDs back to where they belong. I continued on my dressing. Then a ping noise sounded off from my computer. It was Carl. I walked over and saw what the IM was,

"CarlMeistaaa: Hey, man! Just wanna say it was a awesome time yesterday night!"
I responded,
"Horrorwitz: No prob."
Since I'm done I went off to the bathroom. As soon as I came back another IM was sent to me,
"CarlMeistaaa: By the way man, why did you threw Deadly Red away? We could've done something.."
"Horrorwitz: It was a last-minute decision. I just had the feeling it isn't a use for me anymore.."

My Mom hollered out,
"Horowitz! Come on!"
I quickly branched off my message,
"Horrorwitz: Gotta go. See you at school."
I didn't have time to wait for his response. I turned off my computer and ran to my Mom, where she would drive me there. My lil bro sits comfortably in the back seats playing the DS, while the Big Boy sits in the passenger seat. He pouted and moved on.
My mom asks,
"Alright, got everything?"
I responded,
"Yep."
She booted up the Skyline Coupe, set it to Reverse, rolled it out of the parking space and drove off to the school.


I'll try to fill the Chapter with some pics to make it look a bit better. Also any suggestions/constructive criticism welcome Since this is my first time writing a fan fiction, it's bound to have some mistakes.

driftking18594

This story has good potential, but it's always better to include pics. 👍

Click to expand...

Thanks, man I'll get some pics in sooner or later.

"Man! School was so exhausting!" Carl complains.
"Whenever it doesn't?" I said.
High School is indeed the most tiring for a sophomore. In middle school my grades were awful, so I wasn't chosen for any advanced classes, and that's fine by me. But my Mom was infuriated of this, so if I don't whip up to shape she'll no longer let me participate in fun stuff, like Karting. I need Karting. Without it I'm lost. So the deal was accepted, and so far it's wearing me off like a rotten tree. Carl is good the way he is. He got straight As in middle so he was eligible in advanced courses. I don't really care either way. I could talk about school more but mostly it's boring stuff, nothing interesting. Huh? Fine: Stacks of fatiguing work. There.

"Yeah, you're right. But still, it's nice to blurt it out." Carl points out.
"Huh, it does.." I said in shame.
"Anyway, wanna go to Piano Square?" -- that's the Kart course I was on yesterday night -- "I don't have anything better to do. Homework is the last thing in the world I would do."
"Sure, since my Mom is --"
Then something hit me. I totally forgot the form for GT Kart Champs before I left to school! Dammit! I made a frown.
"Your Mom is doing what? And why you poutin'?" Carl says.
"My freakin' form for GT Kart Champs! I forgot to get it before school!" I pouted some more.
"Oh. Sorry, man. You can still get it. Turn-in expires 'til 6pm, which is... Oh no! 15 minutes!"
I stood stuck in place, shocked. I will never make it. The walk to my house is a lot more than that. No shortcuts, no nothin'! It's hopeless. I oddly shivered. Carl turned around, and asks,
"Hey, man, you turn to stone because of that? C'mon, we can hotwire a car, snatch the form, and drive there!"
It's brilliant. I knew hotwiring from my Dad, oddly enough. I practiced it on his Corvette and I succeeded every time. But there's one problem,
"I don't know how to drive yet!"
Carl said stupidly, "Uhhh.., you're one of the fastest Kart drivers out on Piano Square!"
"But it isn't the same!"
"You can adapt to it! C'mon, there's a..." -- Carl quickly searches for any parked cars -- "Honda! Right there!"

I looked to where he's pointing, and crazily, he's right. It was a Civic, with a silverish paint, black rims, and spoilers. It looked amazing. I almost drooled. I ran to it without thinking and looked around it. Conveniently the driver's window was down, so I unlocked the door and looked around for the ignition. I hotwired it quickly, bringing the engine to life. Carl, stunned to move fast enough, got into the passenger while I drove off instantly. I just couldn't control myself.

I actually stole a car I thought. Wait until I get in so much trouble...

In the passenger Carl was too busy being a dog and sticking his head out the window, while I accelerate, brake, steered with a passion, and nothing posed a problem. It was natural. But I had no time to think. I drove to my house and parked it in the driveway. I inspected the windows. Nobody there. I got out and unlocked the porch door. Once I got inside I ran to the stereo, nearly tripping on Thompson's toys, snatched the form and ran right out to the Civic. I set it to reverse, park, set to drive, and bursted right out again. I noticed my shifting as well. Karts don't have shifters but I seem to always shift at the correct time, sometimes without staring down at the tachometer. I didn't bother to care for Carl, in the moment I was completely indulged, exactly like in my Father's Corvette.

Once I got to Piano Square I bailed out, not having a care in the world, sprinted to the turn-in box like a pro athlete, and stuck it in with reflex. Then...

Wham! I slammed into a nearby visitor, Carl standing beside us. I got up, and apologized the man. But it was no use. He grabbed my ear like a soccer mom and so did Carl for no reason. He said punishingly,

"You guys are gonna pay for that! C'mon boys! Let's teach these guys a valuable lesson!"
Suddenly his "boys" came out of nowhere and assisted him to pulling us to the Kart lot, along the way begging them to let go and his boys saying "No!" They forcibly threw me and Carl into our own random karts, and "Young Ramon" says as his boys called him,

"Versus! You two against us four! No excuses!"
He turned to a person in his group and yelled, "Elmos, get us some goddamn tickets and numbers from the booth, here's the money."
As Elmos awaits for the necessary items, Ramos' boys pulled out their karts, while Ramos pulls out my Kart, Green Hornet.

I yelled out, "Hey! That's mines!"
He ignored me, and I felt a resistance when I try to get up. Ramos snarled,
"Haha! You really think you could get up and try to cause a fight!? We glued the seats, nice and comfy for just you guys!" His boys laughed with him.
Carl couldn't get out either. No hope for excuses or escape. We had to suck it up and face this challenge.

But I couldn't help to worry, "I'm gonna be in so much trouble..."

Chapter Two Ends!​

driftking18594

It would be better with pictures, but still, nice chapter. 👍

Click to expand...

Yeah, I'm a bit too lazy to try Thanks though

In Horowitz's world, Piano Square is the most famous go-to place for car lovers in his neighborhood. A place where car enthusiasts can meet up and discuss anything cars, from historics to supercars. Ages can range from mere 7-year-olds to 20-year-olds. Special Meetings named by the neighborhood as "The Meet N' Gears" are occasionally organized for hardcore Karting. Annual championships called GT Kart Champs are also organized, where the best in the neighborhood race each other out for the grand title (regulars can also join, but are classified under "Class R", while invited regulars are under "Class X"). The entire operation has been going for 15 years. The employees in the facility do not mind at all, as one says, "It's pretty much like football." Piano Square got its name since the meetings always take place around afternoon to nighttime to even early morning the next day. People who are willing to stay for that long are also responsible for how to get to home.



As hinted in Chapter One, a regular in both the random meet-ups and The Meet N' Gears are eligible to have a special Kart, with their own Number and paint job. Horowitz and Carl are obviously regulars, so they both receive this eligibility. If a regular was to ruin or lose it in any way, they're not able to get another, and will only get another if they participate in GT Kart Champs. Carl so far has not lost one. Since he won grand title in the 8th year of GT Kart Champs, he got another in his demands for one. Horowitz didn't enter into GT Kart Champs until on Chapter 2, which is the 16th year of GT Kart Champs.

Someone who is new to Piano Square will just pick a random cart with a random number. New people also cannot join GT Kart Champs.


Currently, the club has 25 regulars. 94 are new, 7 won grand title at least once, totaling to 119.


Not one fatal accident occurred anytime in meetings or during GT Kart Champs. They were some small mash-ups though, like the "Dumbfounded Blockade" in the 2nd year of GT Kart Champs, where a boy named Sigmon led the pack for 2 laps until he spun out on the 1st turn. 2nd position crashed into him, and so on. It was canceled soon after. Fortunately there was little people participating, so costs were low. What happened to Sigmon was unknown.

Horowitz is one of the few who was in the club ever since the 1st year, even before that, explaining Chapter One. However no one cared who was in the club first, and that the fun was the thing that mattered.

"Okay! You know the rules to a Versus match!" Announces Elmos in front of the pits.

"10 laps, first person to pass the finish line in one group and the group wins! No excuses!"

The seat was uncomfortable. I can hardly move around. Carl has the same predicament. As Ramon and his boys chuckled themselves up 'cause of this, some employees stood beside the facility with popcorn in a lunch bag. Some members in the Piano Square club, new and regular also awaited for spectating. I looked up into the beaming sun, and it was freaking hot. Sweat drooled down my face onto my lap, and my armpits are firing. Carl oddly was cool, and so was our rivals.

We lined up in the grid space. Before he got to the 1st grid spots our rivals called it. I blurted out,
"Hey! Aren't we gonna do qualifying?"
"No! That isn't how Versus works you twit!" A Ramon's boy talks back.
"No, you're stupidly wrong! Qualify goes first, then the actual race!" I returned.
Before the boy was about to punch me in the face, "Forget it boys. Ignore them. They can't do anything anyways." Ramon says with honor.

I got angry. So angry. The situation then... just collapsed into complete competition. Nothing else mattered now except me and Carl. I had to do my very best to beat these fish-eaters. Teach them a lesson. Elmon quickly briefs the spots:
1) Ramon, #44 AKA MY Green Hornet


2) Elmon, #2 AKA Carl's White Angel


3) Quikster, #25
4) Fury, #99
5) Horowitz, #0
6) Carl, #0
After briefing finishes, an uproar was sought in the crowd beside the facility, mostly Ramon's boys.

Now, the clock counts down...
3...
2...
1...

"Good luck, Horowitz." Carl whispers. I nodded.

GO!

1st lap starts, and I get a move on. Carl follows adjacent.

Along the corners with one careful eye on the road and wheel, I whisper to Carl, "Dude. Draft Fury, and I'll draft Quikster, and block 'em off." Carl nodded and proceeded.

2nd lap. On the straight I was able to catch up to Quikster and overtake him on the 1st turn.

"How in the world!?"

Carl did the same on the same corner.

"What is this madness!?"

We exchanged smiles, and proceeded to Ramon and Elmos.

3rd lap. The two guys were too far. Wow, our Karts really are fast, I said in my head.

4th lap, no good. They were now getting farther, while Fury and Quikster caught our draft in the straight and gained up.

"You guys are gonna get a mess of a loss!" One says.

Then Fury did the most banishing move in Motorsports: PIT Maneuver. I dodged at the last second, but was no use. Quikster caught up to the plan and did the same. But... something happened. I wheeled the steering wheel the other direction to balance out the force and recovered instantly.

"Holy --" Both gasps. In fact they were so shocked they let go of the gas and slowed down.

"Yeah baby! Eat that suckers!" Carl and me yelled out to them. Now it's time to pursue 1st and 2nd positions.

5th lap. They were nowhere in sight. We wondered if they were setting up a trap while on-board.

6th lap, still nowhere. What the hell's going on!?, I shrieked in my head.

7th lap, we finally found them, neck-in-neck to one another. Then they suddenly bursted out again, probably spotted us.
I said to Carl, "This is so stupid. We'll never beat our own Karts." Carl sadly nodded.

8th lap. They were still close but not close enough to catch their draft. I started to lose hope. I shivered. Then something really strange but fortunate happened... Oil was leaking out of the Green Hornet, and Ramon started to slow down. I could already hear him curse with a foul mouth.

Following to the 9th lap, we dodged the oil slick, soon after overtaking Ramon. His blockading was no match for our severe skills.

"Son of a 🤬!"

Now there's Elmon.

Still on 9th lap, we gained up to him on the North Star (the kink at the peak of the track), then down the slow corners.

Carl's White Angel still prove to fight, and bailed off again on the straight, but luckily me and Carl shared Elmon's draft and caught to him again on the final lap. Now we're neck-in-neck. I was close enough to hear him say,

"You stupid pieces of crap can't keep up with me! I'm damn invincible!"

Those very words made me trade paints with him, while Carl awaited for "the right moment."

"Auuuggh!" He screamed out. Then with instinct he hard-turned the steering wheel and made me bash into the guardrail, sending pain just like yesterday night. I hollered out to Carl,

"Get 'em, Carl!!"

I fainted. While the roars of the Karts echoed in my conscious.

My eyes slowly awoken, and received a notion of what's around me. Then I felt a soft cushion on my back. As my eyes peel out, there was my Mom, staring down at me w/ a sad expression. I tried to get up, but there was a pain in my upper left that I had to fall straight down. She said softly,

"Don't worry, hon. You're safe here."

I looked around. We were in some sort of teenager's room -- wait, it's my room. No wonder it felt awfully familiar, I wondered.

"Wha... What happened..?" I asked with fatigue.

"A lot of things, hon. But what's matters is you being okay." She smiled. I smiled back. Then someone came in. It was little Thompson. He asked,

"Is he going to be okay?" He asked. He sniffed quite a lot. I can tell he cried. He cared for me..

"Of course he will, Semore. It'll take some time to get him back to shape sadly."

"...Okay." He said and sniffed. He walked out.

"Even though you're in serious trouble on what you've done yesterday, what matters is your health. I talked to a doctor who arrived at the scene and said that you should rest for a couple of days. I'll also have to take your temperature every so often. So open up."

I opened up my mouth like a yawning fox, and bit on the thermometer. She gently pulled it out and measured it closely.

"Good temperatures. But still, you need to rest. You can still walk around but you'll be limited of your abilities. I've already arranged around your activities so no worries about that."

I nodded slowly. She walked to the door and added,

"Also hon, someone messaged you on your computer. I didn't want to be nosy, so I just left it alone." She walked out.
I got up from my bed, achingly walked to my computer, sat down on my cruise chair, and looked at the message.

"CarlMeistaa: Hey, man. You okay?" I responded,
"Horrorwitz: Yeah, I'm fine." After waiting a couple of minutes, he responded back,
"CarlMeistaa: I could tell you what happened while you fainted, but I have to go somewhere with my parents. But I can tell you we won. It was very, very close. A mere 0.002 seconds, can you believe that!? Anyways, see ya man! Hope you get better!
-- CarlMeistaa Logs Out --"

I crawled back into my cozy bed, and fell to sleep.

driftking18594

At least he didn't find an unfamiliar ceiling...[/obscure 90's mech anime reference]

Click to expand...

Maybe I'll try that in later Chapters

Anyways, I finish the last remainders of the day: Read mail in my mailbox. In the pile there's a familiar recipient. I opened up the envelope and began reading it. The letter follows:


Dear Minchel,

The choices you requested for the Worldwide GT Conquest has now been finalized and ready to ship out to said persons in the next month. Note that the entire operation will be organized on NURBURGRING GP/F. Your responsibility is imperative: Making sure that everything goes according to plans & guidelines. Any errors before, during, and after the Conquest, you'll be sentenced to ______. And also, make sure you check your mailbox occasionally, as I'll also be sending you some more letters on this matter.

Any problems regarding the Conquest's guidelines, structures, or any regards on your punishment, please DO NOT contact me. I am far too busy at the moment and if you do, consider the sentence to be arriving sooner.

Sincerely,

Franschfurt


I crumpled up the paper and threw it in the trash. And damn missed.. Then the phone rang. I just stayed where I were until the automated message came up. The statements follows:

Hey Minchel. This is Amanda. I called in to say, I'm sorry that Franschfurt is giving you a hard time. Look, I know how annoying he is, but we had to just live with this awful man. If one of us tries to cause a breakdown on him... Well, you know... Just listen to what he asks.

Don't worry. The End is almost there. Amanda out.

I slightly teared up, but resisted. I walked to the sink, washed my face, and looked out through the slide door. The sunset rays blasted through onto the wooden waxed flooring. It was beautiful even for a blind man.

It was enough to close my eyes, and feel straight down to sleep....

Sadly guys, I can't get any pics for Chapter Three. One because you can't change the no. of AI on the track and the colors and no's of the AI Karts


Any volunteers would be appreciated, but you don't have to. I think to avoid this problem I'll have to resort to random AI opponents, so that will probably change up the original plotline.

If your writing is good (which it is), a lack of images is no problem. It's the writing and storylines that draw people to fan fics anyway, not the pretty pictures. :tup:

VTiRoj

If your writing is good (which it is), a lack of images is no problem. It's the writing and storylines that draw people to fan fics anyway, not the pretty pictures. :tup:

Click to expand...

Thanks for the kind words :3 I saw some fanfics on this section like C_ZETA's and yours having a load of pictures, and I thought It would sparkle the story a bit more.

elitedriver123

Thanks for the kind words :3 I saw some fanfics on this section like C_ZETA's and yours having a load of pictures, and I thought It would sparkle the story a bit more.

Click to expand...

It does add some sparkle, but the downside is you spend more time gathering and uploading the pictures than actually writing the chapter.

If I had gone with a less pictures and more writing approach, I'd probably have written 100 chapters by now. Well okay not 100, but definately more than the 40+ I have now.

Anyway, just keep doing what you're comfortable with. It's good to go with your own style and succeed with it. 👍

VTiRoj

It does add some sparkle, but the downside is you spend more time gathering and uploading the pictures than actually writing the chapter.

If I had gone with a less pictures and more writing approach, I'd probably have written 100 chapters by now. Well okay not 100, but definately more than the 40+ I have now.

Anyway, just keep doing what you're comfortable with. It's good to go with your own style and succeed with it. 👍

Click to expand...

Yeah, I noticed that when I was getting the Karts and the Civic Personally writing them is a bit better for me, but it never hurts to add in some pics, right?

EDIT:

Sorry I haven't add any Chapters yet. Lots to do and I can't figure out a good Chapter..

"Wow, Carl. I never expected you to become so competitive." I admitted.
"I know, right? Something just came up to me when I assumed you died or something." Carl adds.

As Carl walks, I push myself on a wheelchair after school. The doctor my Mom talked about suggested to rest on a wheelchair so the pain could lessen. He also said I'm able to perform simple tasks like writing (yes, I'm left-handed), so school is the first thing that scrunched into my head. However grueling activities like Karting is out of the question. The response made me mad for quite a while, but I calmed down a bit over the last couple of days. My Mom already planned out my punishment, but I'm not too sure how severe it would be. Hopefully she believes that real-world drivers experience the same pain and commitment on-board, and ignore GT Kart Champs. Now that would be a bit of payback.

"When me and Elmon were at the last few turns, I pulled up my best tactics and drafted him through the corners. Turns out that lateral drafting works according to my blueprints! As soon as we got into the straight Elmon was too focused smashing his foot right onto the gas, and so was I, and gripping the wheel like it was a snake trying to bite your face off!"

Carl continues,

"When we got you back to the facility and let you rest on a waiting chair, the crowd, Elmon, and me waited for the positions. My body was shiverin' with nervousness! Elmon crossed eyes with me, and did not liked how we crossed them. Anyways, the positions finally got validated and we ran to the bulletin board. Aaaannndd...."

Carl mimics a drum-roll, and continues,

"I won! By a mere 0.002 seconds!! You shoulda looked how red Elmon was! Then Ramon came out of nowhere and struck him right in the jaw with his bare knuckles! A fight ravaged, and had to get you outta there. I used the Civic to quickly drive you home -- best experience in my life like you had before by the way. I dropped you off in your Mom's hands, while I drove the Civic back to the spot we found it. Don't ask me how. Then I bailed to my house."

"It was sooo crazy! If you were awake..."

All I could say was, "Thanks, Carl."
I reached up slowly and patted his shoulder. When I dropped back down a strain sparked on the left half and I made a painful face. He responded,

"No prob, man! You would do the same for me!" He grinned.

I made a weak smile. I asked,

"Why Ramon knocked Elmon out?"
"Huh? Oh sorry. He noticed that Elmon tinkered with the Hornet so he could finally become a "better man", he said."

"How's the Hornet and your Angel now?"
"Sadly, I dunno..."

I paled up a bit, but it didn't matter much at the moment.

"Anywho, how's your punishment? Your Mom grounded you?"

"Yeah. No point any other way since most of the things I do involve Karting."

"Oh. Mines is grounded, too. That's why I don't know the status of our Karts. I expected at least somebody from the club deliver a letter detailing it.."

Suddenly, we walked and ride down the tar-infested sidewalk in silence. Then the Civic we intentionally stole drove down the block. Carl spontaneously pushed me along an alleyway next to us and hid. Once it disappeared from our view, we got out.

"I don't really think they would know we stole it, Carl." I pointed out.

"Still, to make sure." Carl insists.

We continued in silence. Then... A scene with my father and myself came up to view....

~~
"Wow Mom! Look at Dad go!" My smaller self pulled on my Mom's blouse.
"I know Horowitz! And stop pulling my blouse!" She scolded me.

My Dad's Corvette, The Bees-Knees, quickly negotiated the last turn of Laguna Seca, roaring down to the checkered line. Muscles of all kinds, Mustangs, Chevy's, huddled down as well, chasing Numero One position Dad.

"Howy! Howy!!" Someone screamed my name. Then it familiarized to Carl's voice...
~~

"Horowitz!!" Carl yells ferociously, shaking me back and forth. I accidentally knocked him out of the way, pushing down to the sidewalk.

"Ow! What the hell, man?" He snarls.

"Oh, sorry Carl!" I wanted to help him up but he managed anyway.

"...No prob, Horowitz. But please, don't do that again.." He rubbed his back head, indicating I caused a bit of pain. I felt a bit sorry for him. Then a tear ran down my cheek. He spotted it like a pro hunter.

"I said it's a no prob. It's nothing too serious. Besides you didn't mean it." He explained in a happy tone, and pulled a smile.

I wiped the tear away and made a weak smile back. I stared down to my hands on my lap. I turned my hands and whispered, "Hm..."

"What?" Carl suddenly asks.

"Oh, nothing.." I trailed off.

Then at Carl's next step was my detour: My house.

"See ya later, man. Hope you get better." He patted my shoulder and suddenly jogged off to the horizon. I chuckled to myself saying, "You are one odd person, Carl," and wheeled myself to the patio and knocked on the wooden, partially chipped door. Then rises Mom, and helped taking me to my room.

"Here ya go, Horowitz. Nice n' cozy for your punishment." She snickered. It was indeed cozy. The air felt like a warm blanket out of a dry cleaner, and the room was neatly organized.

"Since I didn't have anything else better to do, I niftied up the carcass you call a Room. Don't take this as an advantage. You'll return to your normal duties after you get back in shape." She explains. I looked up to her who was beside me, and thanked her. She winked.

"Now, lemme help you onto your bed." She gently transferred me to it like a baby, and didn't bother covering me up with the readied blankets implying I can do it myself. She walked out to the door and says,

"Hope you get better, hon. And don't worry about your supper and that usual nonsense. I'll bring them to you, but you better not ruin the carpet." I nodded.

"By the way, Mom" -- she poked her head out the door -- "Where's Thompson?"

"Oh, he got tired with the amount of formula I fed him, so... And don't call him Thompson anymore! He has a name y'know."
Before I contradicted, she walked out.

I didn't bother watching TV. Shows are... uninteresting to me, so I slowly limped to the computer. I turned it on, logged in, and checked up on Carl. He's online so I IM'ed him quickly.

"Horrorwitz: Hey."
As I surfed the web for a bit, he responded back,
"CarlMeistaa: Yo."
"Horrorwitz: Hru?"
"CarlMeistaa: Good, u?"
"Horrorwitz: Kinda. My side still feels like a stone wall, but a-okay."
"CarlMeistaa: Oh. So umm, do you think it'll heal before Kart Champs?"
"Horrorwitz: I dunno."

Mom then popped up, frightening me.

"Oh, sorry hon! I have something for you from the mail." She laid it on the desk and walked back out.

I snatched it, opened it paper-tearing style, and looked at its contents. It basically details Kart Champs, and a note attached to it. I ripped it off and read it:

Dear Horrowitz,

I have much condolences of the incident occurring yesterday. So if you decide to try to visit to Piano Square, make sure you check up with me. I have a gift for you (couldn't deliver it to you via mail as it's a surprise).

Sincerely,

George

P.S. I got this note attached since the flyer attached to it had to be released to every member of the club.


The note overall made me eager to go down now and find out what the gift lies beneath its bows and wrapping. But I couldn't now. I'm grounded, and too tired to even wheel myself there. Doubt my Mom will soften up for this. Then slumber ferociously slapped me in the face. I forcibly crawled to my bed before finally sleeping on the kinda hard carpet, my hand falling onto my head trying to grab the folds...

...And scary enough, he spent the time to find my mailing address...

Very nice chapter! I'm loving the story so far!

Dooglers8

Very nice chapter! I'm loving the story so far!

Click to expand...

Thanks, mate

As I drowse into a dream, it chose the more relevant case of all. My father. It placed me at the scene where he......


It was Laguna Seca. The sun cascaded the entire sky, to the worn tarmac and sand. T'was the part where we left off before.
As more competitors fly by the last turn, my eyes twinkled to each one. A Charger passed by, then a SuperBee, all was blasted with sponsors and an aggressive livery matching the race's objectives. It was the finest I've ever seen in years, unlike my Mom where she constantly sees my Dad with ferocious competitors.

As the last positions roared into the first hairpin, more drivers rush into the last turn. And it was in fact my Dad. The Bees-Knees. He gladly named the car after me and my Mom, as we shared a cute bond. The Corvette's tinted-out headlights met eyes with mines, and I startled into a freight. My Mom explained,

"Don't worry, honey! It won't hurt you!" I looked up and got my admiration back.

The Bees-Knees switched direction and screamed off into the straight, its exhausts backfiring as big as shrapnel. The crowd boasted in excitement, from skilled photographers to plain Muscle fans. It was a mixed ethic audience, but we all shared the same passion: Cars.

2nd position, a Porsche, and 3rd right behind, a dark-blue Camaro SS. Both looked amazing, as much as aggressive as the Bees-Knees. The Porsche was a special model, but I couldn't tell which one. The side livery illustrated Saber Claws, while the Camaro was just a dark-blue with black stripes plus usual placements like sponsors. But I didn't scared me. No my Mom taught me better.

As more participants came in, I started to get hungry. I pulled on my Mom's blouse and demanded,
"I want nachos!"

Due to the exhaust notes, she had to yell, "No, hon! The race is about to end! And your Dad wants to see you right here every lap!"

She was right. The race was a thousand times more important than just some slight hunger. But my tongue tasted very stale, and now demanded a soda or water. My Mom looked around quickly through the exhilarate crowd and spotted a worker handing out sodas for a quarter. She waved her hand but the worker just vanished. She ignored it and said to me that it's too late. I swear my complaining is so stupid...

As the final laps rack in closer and closer, I couldn't find my Dad's car or himself anywhere. I checked in the pits, he wasn't there. The race was only 2 hours long so he couldn't switch drivers, and completely doubt he switched cars. I started to worry, and so did my Mom. Then the intercom suddenly bursted into life after collecting dust throughout the entire race, announcing,

"Oh no! There has been a mechanical problem for Bees-Knees! Now the poor darling lies in the vacant sand at the 6th turn, with the driver arguing with the team's marshals!"

My Mom and me exchanged looks. We both wanted to help. He was losing ground. And this will break his consecutive wins on a 2 Hours of LeMons race. Then we had no choice. We marched over to my family's paddock, to check in on my Dad. But lies one guard over the bridge of the finish line. He walked to is and dared to ask,

"What are you to trying to do? Beyond here is restricted to spectators!"

"Do you know who I am, mister?" My Mom snapped back.

"Apparently, no I haven't. And we wish for you and your little boy to get back to your designated spot or you'll be taken in!"

"You can't do that!" I jumped in, with a slight noisily voice.

He leaned down with a intimidating face, and whispered, "And what are you going to do?"

My Mom then grabbed his stomach, flew him up, and smashed him down on the hard pavement. He received a concussion.

"C'mon, hon!" She yanked me up to her neck and ran to the paddock.

When we got to where we needed to go, my Mom explained that she had to contact her husband, but they say she's lying. Then she realized she was speaking to the wrong folk, and there came one of my Dad's best friends Theodore, or The Mecha-Man since he does the quick mechanical work for cars. He escorted us to the contact area, where lies the communications equipment to constantly keep in touch with Dad. My Mom instantly snatched a Radio speakerphone and said,

"Honey! Where are you!?"

Dad's voice came to life in the other end of the speakerphone,

"I'm right here, sweetie. God dammit, the car refuse to accelerate! And the marshals can't do jack! Not even Mecha can suggest somethin'!"

As I listened closely, they continued on,

"Hon, try disengaging the clutch-works while stepping on the brakes!"
"Huh? How will that -- Okay, okay. Lemme try.."
Crazy anchoring sounds churned out the speakerphone's end.

"Oh my mother of pie! She's sprang to life!"

I clapped my hands happily around, while my Mom still had a serious face, but made a bit of a grin.

Mecha-Man ordered my Mom to step aside to watch the car's conditions via monitor, while we stood beside him, observing the onboard cam above the monitor with all the numbers and such.

"Oh no, Oh no, Oh no, Oh no!!" My Dad screamed over the speakerphone.

"What!?" Mecha responds.
"#15! He's right behind me!"
"Aw crap!"

"Who's #15, Mom?" She purposely ignored me.

"I can't deal with this awful man! You saw the pain he caused me at the early laps!" My Dad responds in a nervous voice.
"Look, man! Just fend 'em off 'til the last laps!"
"I can't! Aw crap he's at my flank!"

We all looked at the onboard cam and saw #15 deviously trading paints with Bees-Knees into the last turn.

"Dammit, dammit!"
"Hermon (Dad's nickname)! Just block 'em off at the hairpin!"
"I can't dammit!"

My Dad ran wide at the hairpin, while #15 overtook him with a countering exit speed.

"Oh hell no!"

Through the 3rd and 4th turns, Dad could not get a decent overtaking position. #15 just lies a bumper-length apart.

"Get the hell outta way!"

After 4th turn, Bees-Knees managed a radical draft and obtained a neck-in-neck status with #15. Dad went gently through the apex of turn 5 and fed out enough space for #15 (racing courtesy aside). With luck they remained in a neighborly fashion.

At the 6th turn, time freezes...

Nothing mattered in this turn.

Nothing in the whole wide universe.

Not even a blazing fire next to me, catching up to my face.

Not even a gun pointing at my face, waiting to be fired.

No, nothing in the whole damn world compared to...

I wonder which Corvette is Horowitz dad is racing...

NascarManiaco99

I wonder which Corvette is Horowitz dad is racing...

Click to expand...

I haven't really decided which model I'll disclose it sooner or later, though.

elitedriver123

I haven't really decided which model I'll disclose it sooner or later, though.

Click to expand...

I think like a C6R

Cowboys965

I think like a C6R

Click to expand...

Maybe so, maybe not

elitedriver123

Maybe so, maybe not

Click to expand...

Another Pokemon avatar? Seriously? Lol

Cowboys965

Another Pokemon avatar? Seriously? Lol

Click to expand...

Yaw. Jelly?


And post via PM, if you're willing to.

Another day of school, another day of potential paralysis.. Well, at least Carl's here, and my Mom will be taking me to the doctor again to check up on my side.

"Uggh. So much tedious and pointless work!" Carl complains.

"Be quiet for a minute Carl, please?" I asked.

Maybe I shouldn't have said that. Now Carl makes a pain on his face and directs his eyes to the other side of the road, the block. But I have to think about what's been going on. On the other hand...

"Carl." I tried to snap him back to reality, but he still fixes his direction.

"Carl, man. I just... I just need to think about how to explain something to you."

After a couple of steps, he softened and laid all ears.

"I'm listening", he confirms. He had the attention of an owl.

"Ever since my side paralysis, I've been getting strange... dreams. And daydreams. Something that usually doesn't come up to mind unless a tragic event occurred." I explained.

Carl comments, "Sounds like nightmares to me. And a tragic event did happened. Which was the pressure when you smashed the guardrail back at Versus."

"Yeah, but that isn't a tragic event. In my terms anyway." I continued,

"Besides, the dreams was something that... that was from a very..., very sad thing. And that thing leaves a burn in your mind. Things like that is usually something that..."

I trailed off.

"Something that what?" Carl questions.

After a second,

"Wait... Oh... That..." Carl realizes.

"Yeah. Ever since then, it never left my mind, my Mom's mind, my entire family's minds. Such a saddening spot to place it, in the most unlikeliest place. My Mom even hid it from my lil bro so he wouldn't panic and threaten his future.."

"How she'd do that?"

"Don't ask." I faulted, then continued,

"It's been really wearing me out. It's nice to have my father be with my side in my mind, but I don't wanna wonder and shed tears every hour and minute. And now this stupid crap of a paralysis, the chances are high as an airplane taking off."

"I wanna stop trying, stop having the memories pulling me down into a depressing mood. And so far the things I do, it clouds it off nicely. My Karting, the work at school, Thompson's company, the club at Piano Square. All of that grained it off into a folder, inaccessible under any mood."

"But alas, this crap of a pain on my side makes it damn worse!"

I leaned down, fought the pain to pick up a nearby rock, and threw it down the hill of the sidewalk. Under all that rage, the rock managed to bounce off, smashing a parked car's passenger window. A man who seemed to carry the car's keys witnessed the entire thing, and cursed at us. Carl instantly gripped the wheelchair's handles and pushed me along at the opposite direction, placing distance between us and the furious man. Then the wheelchair tripped on a crack in the sidewalk, sending me lifting off into the conveniently-planted patch of grass in front of us. Carl ran over and helped me into my wheelchair, and apologized multiple times.

"No... Worries... Ow..." I forgave in pain.

Carl quickly looked around my torso, my arm, even my legs for wounds of any kind, until someone pulled his shoulder back, sending him into the patch of grass. He did the same to me, but he threw me opposite of the patch of grass, via the cold hard pavement. Thank god it wasn't too hard.

"You think smashing a stranger's car window is funny, huh!?" The man screamed out in rage.

He lifted up Carl like it was a feather, and armed his left arm and bloodied knuckles. Then went all-out onto Carl's face, stretching out a sharp noise like several teeth just shattered. But that was Carl's jaw.

After just that strike, everything froze up. Time. Space. Except us three: The violent man, Carl, and me, lying on the pavement like a scared animal. Just that strike. That one strike. It sparked something inside of me. Something that was beastly.

I snatched a convenient hard boulder next to me, stealthily crouched behind him, and slammed it onto his idiotic cranium of his to Oblivion. Well, not too oblivion. But he did faint down onto the grass, and contracted a blunt force trauma.

I held Carl up from his arms and placed him on my wheelchair. I tilted his head around for injuries, and was in fact a blackened wound at his right cheek, and a quite deep scratch following to his left cheek. He was badly damaged to the face. He couldn't do anything but close his eyes and cry, without the crying noise.

I made a decision and had to transport him to the nearest hospital. If I was to take him to either my Mom's or his parent's home, they would ironically kill us.

I went up the block, along the way asking people where the nearest hospital is. I followed their direction and finally reached it.

When we got inside the Emergency Lobby, I told the nurse behind the counter,

"I have an injured friend over here! He needs help!"

Nurses hidden behind the counter quickly transported him to the Emergency rooms, where he'll be treated. Now that nurse said to wait until updates, I did. But instead of reading a magazine I sat in the surprisingly warm chair, shivering like I had hypothermia with my thumbs smashing against each other. And the feeling got worse and worse every minute..


I hope he'll be okay.

Those guys don't have any luck ? I feel bad for them

I spent a bit of time browsing around the aisles, pulling off as a regular shopper. Then I caught the fridges that stores the drinks. I grabbed a random soda, and walked up to the cashier. The man was Philippine from the looks of it. He had a strange necklace and a large scar on his left eye. Questioning these will destroy the etiquette of buying stuff, so I kept it away until the end.

"That will be 2 dollars, sir." My god, he even sounds like a Philippine.

I pulled out my wallet, to only see only a rusted penny in the paper money's spot. I made a mourn face to the cashier, but a puppy-dog face from a stranger in his late 40s won't cut it. He obviously was used to this, as he placed it back to its rightful location. I just walked out. Emotionless.



Taking down the same paved sidewalk, I walk under the ugliest streetlights. It was rusty, it was angled. Even the bolts guarantee it falling down onto a bypasser. But I ignore the thoughts. The thoughts already in my head are enough to deal for an eternity.

As the disgust was reaching to a all-new record, my phone rings with the default ringtone. Never liked depicting myself through devices. I pull it out my overcoat and read the ID: Amanda. I picked it up, as I had no choice.

"Hello?" Amanda calls.
"Yeah?" I say, in a whisper tone.
"Oh, hi Minchel. Just wanna check up on you."
I pause, unresponsive.
"Anyways Minchel, we need to discuss something very... urgent."
Still unresponsive.
"Report me at 25th of Smogt, at sunrise. Do not be late. And I'll also provide cookies!"
I snapped into life like a child on a swing-set, but...
"Haha, just testing you Minchel! But I am serious, though."
She continues,
"If you know The Ways of Falkner Lining Points, you will know where 25th of Smogt lies. Good luck."

She hangs up, leaving me perplexed with questions. I did know The Ways of Falkner Lining Points, but 25th of Smogt. What the hell was that? Whatever it is, it's most likely the "tests" she always set me with. At times it's something that's very comical at the end, to times where I really had to try to accomplish it. And it's too much to describe each one. No, choosing won't help as all of them were pretty bad. Hopefully this one isn't as humiliating.






Wondering how I pass the 2 hours so quickly? I roam. No, not horses in a pen roaming. Real roaming, like urban exploration almost. Since I was a child I'd like to roam, sometimes without complete thinking. From searching bugs in my room to accidentally leaving home to follow a dragonfly. Wait a minute, those examples aren't actually true, nor from my experiences. For now my explanation will not open until at the right time. Right now I have a 25th of Smogt to hunt.



Using Falkner Lining Points, I was able to triangulate the coordinates to a village outside of the region. From my location is only a couple of miles, so I hitchhiked a horse in one of the roaming stables (yes, they are people who enjoy roaming as I do), and galloped off. Once I got there the place was not too populated. I was able to count 50 people in this small village. As I left the horse near some saloon, I examined the place at its center. Usually this amount of exposure can get me killed, but this was a test, and I wasn't gonna fail. I recorded what the most notable objects in the village, the most priority the saloon named "Rekschster Stop-In." An awkward name, so I didn't resist to go inside.

The place didn't have any visitors in sight except a bartender, possibly the owner. I walked up to him and asked,

"Do you know where 25th of Smogt is?"

The bartender suddenly dropped the cleansed alcohol mug, breaking into a million pieces, while he yanked me from my undershirt, throwing backwards into darkness. When I got up I was in an entirely different place. I lie on a stone design floor, which signifies two swords split between a sparkle. The bartender came down soon after, and says something quite strange,

"The 25th of Smogt is A Sacreds Location!"

All I could respond is,

"A woman, a friend sent me here to hunt it down, to talk about something important. I didn't expect it would be this secretive.."

"Who would that be, hm?" He asks in a daring expression.

"I cannot tell. It is highly confidential to reveal her name."

"Give me her Sacreds ID, if she's part of The Sacreds Group."

"I'm... I'm not sure.."

The bartender turned around, mumbled things that what could've been how to explain this encounter. He turned back, took a breath, and says,

"Okay. Follow me."

He abruptly ran up the bolted platforms on the weathered stone walls to a door. I copied the movements easily, meeting up on the other side of the door. He turned around, startling me and questions,

"Okay, do you know the Falkner Lining Points?"

I answered politely,

"Yes."

"Alright, you must apply the skills on that tablet over there, in the dim room. You must do it right, or else a trap will emerge, killing you."

I nodded, swallowed, and proceeded to the tablet. Surprisingly it was simple. There was only 2 points: The Boxing and The Triangle. Since The Boxing symbol consists of only 2 curves, while The Triangle consists of only 1 curve, it will fuse into 4 curves. Now the only thing is an ink pen. I found a set attached to the tablet's side, so I grabbed it in one hand and began forming and fusing the curves. I then pinpointed all possible intersections with the pen. The ink was able to fill every fused curve until it stalls halfway through one curve. This was more intense than I thought. I sweated and got anxious, but I kept my cool. I looked over the filled curves to see any anomalies. And in fact there was! The curve which I labeled C had a positive formation, so the ink wouldn't properly distribute. As the Falkner Lining Points instructions say so, I etched next to it "Positive Formation: Anomaly."

The tablet rumbled ferociously, and swooped into a column below the flooring, and closes up. A hidden door then opens in front of me. The bartender arrives beside me, startling me again.

"Good work. Thought you would never find it. Don't worry, the path here is simple parkouring. Think you can keep up?" He ran off into the so-called path, and I followed.