Chapter 4: The Demon's Child

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Trent Terry's POV

Unbelievable. Here. In my classroom. In front of me. Just a few meters away. In all her deadly glory. Was THE FREAKING DEMON'S CHILD !!!!!

She had grown up, we'll of course since it's been 8 years from the last time I saw her.When she was a child she looked like porcelain doll, now.....well you can get the gist of it from the guys who are eye raping her right now. I didn't notice her at all, until I came face to face with those enchanting cat-like silver eyes. Then many emotions started taking course in me, excitement or fear or awe, I don't know which, maybe all at once. The point is I forgot to breathe, no, I couldn't. My head was getting all dizzy, and my view was blurry.

The last words I said was "The Demon's Child" before everything went dark, and another image invaded my dream.

*** A walk down memory lane ***

The place was alive with the sounds of roaring engines, boisterous voices from various gangs and occasional fights among them. The smell of alcohol, a distant rock song, and all in all a smoky atmosphere. However, this was the young man, Trent Terry's favourite place on earth ever since his 16 birthday and his friends dragged him over here. Now at the age of 20, he was still entranced by the magnificent track.....or more accurately the illegal race track.

Most of the racers here are in gangs, they race for territories, money and other bets. Trent was not an exception, though he did it for the thrill, but thanks to his mad skills he was scouted by the Dragons, a considerably large gang which had most influence in their area.

He just loved the thrill of racing, all worries will be blown away by the wind with adrenalin pumping in his veins which was almost like being high. Winning a race was another great thrill, the pride, sense of achievement, it was all something he could only experience on the track. In the 4 years of his racing life, he can proudly say that he was undefeated, he was the Dragons' ace after all.

But one day, his prided title came crashing down to lay in shambles at his feet. He achieved a new experience called defeat in his beloved track.

It was a Friday night, usually the most crowded time, which also makes it all the more interesting. The Dragons were lounging in their special VIP area, reserved just for them. All they had to do was sit there and wait for the challenges to come, and they always came too. That day a request for a race was made by a particularly shady man, who brought the greatest surprise of the century.

" Yo, Ace, how did your last race go?" A dark man asked his fellow comrade. The man in question was sprawled on the sofa, lazily flipping through a magazine.

"Do you even have to ask? He's our ace. He's got a golden record." Another man with strands of multi-coloured hair answered for him.

"You guys really know how to boast that idiot's ego." a seemingly cold voice sliced through the sounds of praise from his teammates.

"Chill, boss. I'm awesome and I know it. No big deal." Trent displayed a smug smile, earning an annoyed look from the leader of Dragons, Kent.

"Don't mind him Ace, Kent is only annoyed since his golden record was taken away in the past. So now he has to make do with the name ' Steel Heart'," Jace taunted playfully while combing through that artistic (or so he claimed) hair of his.

"Despite being called Steel Heart, he actually cowers in fear when faced with a cat though," an older man, Henry joined in, "A kitty cat wrapped in pretty pink ribbon at that."

"All of you drop dead!" The leader bit out vehemently, but a pink tint was slowly taking form on his cheeks. Well all of them did drop, not dead but laughing, clutching their stomachs and rolling around in hilarity. Just then, there was a knock on the door. The dark man, Simon, opened it to reveal a man in his forties, with an unshaven face and mean eyes. The man was unlikable in many ways, it was just detest at first sight with him.

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