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 Abysmal Tale Number Three: Redline.

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Posts : 259
Join date : 2009-08-07
Age : 36
Location : South Dakota

PostSubject: Abysmal Tale Number Three: Redline.   Tue Aug 11, 2009 7:06 am

Welcome back.

How much speed does it take to out run your memories? How fast do you need to go to catch that elusive creature known as redemption?

This is a story I like to call, Redline

The dream. It happens over and over again trying to show me the error of my ways. It is always the same in my mind and it always results in the same tragic way, she dies in that tragic accident. I keep telling myself that is all it was, an accident.

Those street racers could never have been a match for me, not on their best day. I suppose it was my arrogance that is to blame, deep inside of me I can still hear that voice saying so nicely how nothing bad can ever happen to me, I am the best it lies to me so nicely just as it did then. I flash forward to the beginning of the race; she is there beside me and having a grand old time. She is as I will always remember her being. Perfect in every way I could ever imagine bright green eyes that reflected so nicely, red hair that would make anybody look twice and a body to make other guys get in trouble if they looked at it for too long, simply beautiful.

The shot rings out into the air and the highly illegal street race starts. Sudden force of the car slams us both back into out seats. It is something that you can never really get used to and it threatens to snap your focus in half, but I hold on to it this and every time. She is not so lucky the acceleration terrifies her; it's her first time in a race. I told her she did not have to do it, in this nightmare I always tell her she can wait for me but she never does.

Halfway point is barely noticed as it blurs by at speeds nobody should travel at on the ground, then I hear it over the roar of the engine it is there, something breaks and there is nothing I can do. My mind tells me to stop and lose the race, my heart tells me it can wait. In the heat of the race the mind is like a quiet whisper and goes ignored for now. The race continues and I am winning by a large margin so I decide to start slowing down, this is when I realize something is terribly wrong.

The brakes are simply broken; the expression of terror on my face needs no words. The finish line is at a curve that I know I cannot take going at this speed and she realizes something is wrong, it only takes one last look into each other's eyes and that screaming monster of a car we are in tears off the road and straight into the border line of trees. In slow motion just to make the effect more real I watch as the branches come through the windshield and completely destroy her body, she screams, but the effect is silent. All I see is her gaping mouth and blood covered body.

I wake up in bed twenty minutes before that alarm clock goes off, covered in sweat and alone. I bring my hand up and place it over my racing heart in an attempt to calm it down, part of my every day routine for the past twenty years, not a day goes by I do not remember that night. For the rest of this town it has faded into memory. The kids of this generation turned it into a ghost story, about the ghost that lives in the trees. Origins of this story are varied from the classic murder story to the much closer racing with the devil story. They say if you go out there at night you can see her hanging on the trees just like the moment she died, sometimes you can hear the scream.

I do not listen to the stories nor do I tell them what really happened. It is the town's secret I suppose, the main one anyways. Street racing around here has remained much the same, the cars have gotten faster and the stakes higher, but it is the same, always about glory and respect. The legend of the greatest racer in the town's history echoes in the back alley ways of this place. The called him, me, Red Line.

Today was a dark day, there was a storm brewing in the air and everybody could feel it. But this is when he came to town. Nobody knew his name but he was soon known to the kids as nothing more than the word "Black." Apparently this guy was a racer, the best one ever, not only that but he was looking for Red Line. He was looking for me. Information in a small town spreads quickly, and when you are a cop like me you usually get it first.

The storm came and it was terrible in its wrath for some reason. It would not stop and sleeping was almost impossible, besides that the noise in my head was just about as great, so many questions and no answers. My heart came to life once more, the first time since that night. It woke to the call of a challenge, the thrill of the chase. Fighting impulses like that is not easy to do for an ex-racer, even harder to do if you used to be the best one.

The daylight came at long last and it seemed to free me of my cursed existence, all the thoughts of racing and speed seemed to melt away. I was thankful for that small blessing. I went to get the morning paper, but instead there was a simple red folder sitting there on the front step, dry as it could be. I opened it and inside was a message to me from this would be challenger of mine.

I know who you are and I know what you want. I have come to make you a deal if you will accept it like all of the others have done before you. Your woman's soul is trapped in between the realms. She relives the accident every night on that dark road you have avoided for so very long. If you wish to free her soul, come to the place where it all began tonight at midnight, with your old racing car. If you win the race, she goes free and the dreams stop. You both will find peace. If you lose the race, you lose your own soul. This is a onetime offer.


My world as I knew it was shattered in an instant. So many more questions to be had, no answers. There it was, the chill of terror crawling up my spine as I had got done reading that letter that seemed to be sent by the devil himself, or at least some other demon. I called in sick today, and I was not telling a lie. I truly thought I was going mad at this point, who would not think the same thing? The day went by too quickly and I had to make a choice.

I made my choice and drove out to the old abandoned garage. You see, this is where I hid my car. Back in the day I had repaired the damage to it and tried to make it better than it was before, but my heart was not in it anymore and I had left it here, and here it sat alone for endless days it seemed. I tore the cover off of it and revealed that monster that had ruined my life so long ago, the source of all my mental issues.

This car was a dark green nightmare from the past. A 1971 Challenger with a Hemi inside of it. Modified of course to move past the traditional 426 horsepower. This beast looked like it was ready to murder something on the road at the first chance it had. I opened the door and the large door opened up with a familiar squeak to it and I sat into the car seat, I looked over and for a brief moment I thought I could see her there, as she was and not as she appeared at the end of my nightmare every night. The car roared to life and it was loud, but yet at the same time music to my ears and off we went into the night towards our destination.

When we pulled up the car and I would be alone, but not for long though. Beside me when I looked there he was in a car I had never even seen before. It looked liked it was fast, much faster than anything I had ever seen. It was to be just him and me and no witnesses it seemed like. The headlights flashed once, twice and then three time in perfect unison and illuminated the dark road ahead.

Tires screeched on the pavement and the smoke came, the rush was like a drug to me, to both of us I suspect, it all came back to me in that first single jolt of pure power under my control. The car roared to life like the monster it was always intended to be, but this time it was matched by the car beside me and it was an actual race this time. I closed my eyes for a brief moment in time and believed that they all still believed in me.

When you are going at near speeds over one-hundred miles an hour there is no room for error, no room for a mistake because it will destroy you. For me everything was sliding into place easily and nothing was out of place here. The machine worked perfectly this time around, no odd noises no breakdowns, nothing. But then again I was just merely keeping up with this strange black car beside me; it seemed to be waiting for me, waiting for me to do something.

So I did. It was the last part of the race and my knuckles turned white as I gripped on to the wheel and what I did best. I took it to the limit one last time. The needles in the dashboard went until they would not move anymore. Everything turned into a blur and I crossed the finish line, but everything went black as I slammed on the brakes.

It took me a moment to realize I had won, but I was shocked almost fainted when I turned my head and there she was, sitting with me in the passenger seat! I found myself pulled over along the side of the road, this was the other option, the road not taken. I had beaten the mysterious stranger and gained my life back, words could not describe this. So what if I had lost the race, this is what I truly wanted. He was true to his word and I had gained one beautiful second chance.

This time I would not waste it, I made that single solitary promise to the stranger I would never see again.
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Abysmal Tale Number Three: Redline.
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