Mike Zephyr: Split/Second

Chapter 8 - Redemption

       The race had moved into this underwater-based racetrack. Glass tunnels scattered about inside the oceanside of the island, with deadly traps set all across the track yet again. Sharks, stingrays, and all sorts of aquatic animals were able to be seen from the glass tunnels, as if you were one of them, only protected by that glass barrier from death and destruction from either drowning, or a nasty shark turning your car into its new chew toy. If that didn't kill you, the water sure will. Ramps were seen shooting out of the water that connected to the glass tunnels under the ocean, with gaps between them, adding the risk of falling if you didn't have enough speed to make the jumps. Boeing CH-47 Chinook cargo helicopters hovered over the track with large crates of explosive propane containers, others carried small boats that could be dropped onto the track. Ferries and Yachts were also nearby, rigged entirely with explosives as well as an auto-piloting system that was set to purposely crash wherever it pleased upon the track. With all of these deadly "obstacles" being set up, it was quite ironic for it to be quite a sunny day with clear blue skies and wispy clouds. However, the weather may change from the amount of explosives that are going to be used throughout the race, not that it really mattered. People were going to die nonetheless. The only things that could possibly save you from the clutches of the Grim Reaper would be speed, precision, and control. Without these, you are practically screwed. Luckily for me, with my past of street racing long ago, added up to my performances in the other races, I had a chance of survival.

Driving my orange Lamborghini Gallardo Superleggera up to the starting grid, starting at the back of the line, I take in the beautiful scenery of the aquarium-themed race track. I smiled to myself blissfully until I heard a "SPLAT!" on the right side of my car. Upon the window was an egg that was now sliding down slowly from my window. Growling in annoyance, I step out of the car and wipe it off with the cloth kept in my glovebox, and felt a sharp pain on my rounded ass. As I glance over my back, another egg was cracked upon it, making me turn to look at the culprit who flipped me off with their middle finger. A cocky, rude and snarling muscled doberman grinned at me with their window down, sitting in the driver seat of a monster-green Nissan GTR.

"Nice ass, fag! Too bad you ain't a girl, or I would have happily offered you a ride on my dick." He says at me while I snarl at him and rub my sore femboy butt.

"Piss off, you filthy manwhore. Any woman that decides to go out with you is surely blind and has a walnut for a brain, you knob-end."

"At least I even get bitches. Nobody would want a guy with an disgusting ass like you have. That's gay as shit."

"The hell is wrong with being gay, and what does that have to do with anything? Cut the homophobic bullshit, and fuck off already!"

"Sure. I'll see you at the finish line, if you don't die first. But I'll still win."

"Whatever you need to tell yourself, dickhead."

He huffs and spits at me before sliding his window back up while I groan and finish cleaning off my butt and my car before I hop back into the driver seat, strapping myself in. There was no way that I was going to let this prick win, I hated people like him with a burning passion. If I could nuke the planet of all of the selfish, snobby, lying pieces of garbage that polluted this world, I would do it in the blink of an eye. But for now, I had a race to win. My leather fingerless gloved paw grip the steering wheel, with my other paw rests on the gearshift stick. The flag-bearer strides on past our cars, her fingers grazing across my car as she passes and stood in front of the racers that lined up at their grid stations. All that we needed now was the countdown and the firing of a gun into the air for us to start. Eventually, the countdown began, with the racers letting their engines infect the air with their rumbles. I made sure to let them all hear the mean screams of my engine as well while my eyes fixed themselves onto the flag-bearer before everyone.