Thread: MurderMe.com (AndNich123 and boyo)

Gabriel let the motorcycle drift into the crowd, they came close cheering him on excitedly as they clapped him on the back. Nodding to them all wound his way towards the Cadillac parked by the sidewalk, LED trimmed speakers propped in the trunk blared out the house beats. On a chair by the hood sat the Duc, the Elvis style sunglasses and purple furred coat on the slim body that jumped up as he arrived. They exchanged pleasantries as the street filled with the roar of engines and the squeal of tires, the long line of smoking rubber leading down the long street outside the line of warehouses. This part of the city was deserted at night, taken over by the street racers and the gamblers. Gabriel watched a few heats, waiting for the better racers to work their way through the preliminaries until the Duc sent over one of his girls, as a sign of status usually a white or latino girl in a mini dress. Red rimmed eyes from either alcohol or drugs as she told Gabriel he was up next. Handing over his fee to the girl who brought it back to the Duc, then Gabriel took his place on the street at the starting line, a white line spray painted on the tarmac. Multiple coats were alternately worn through as he looked at the crowd, feeding off their excitement and adrenaline. A glance at the tall asian guy with the red jumpsuit on the racing bike painted red and black as his own was. Pulling the helmet on Gabriel leaned forward, ignoring the hand signals of the other man. Recognizing the bike only as someone who would be worth beating, the others engine roared as they waited at the line. Taking a breath Gabriel stilled himself as he looked down the street, the way lined with cars and spectators towards the distant yellow line a mile away and the trucks bathed in their own lights. The girl in the booty shorts and tube top walked between them, the smell of burned rubber and gasoline permiated the air as he tightened the helmet and leaned forward waiting for her motion. The arms went up, then in a dramatic moment she held them there, then dropped both down, sticking her ass out to the pleasure of the men nearby. A twist of the wrist and the motorcycle leaped forward, the read tire leaving a thick smoking tread behind. The black leather jumpsuit pressed against his skin as the lights of the cars nearby approached and faded behind in a swirl of light that played against the outside of the helmet. Holding tight the cycle roared under him, its vibrations tore through him like a ripple as the two cycles paced each other down the street. The finish line ahead approaching rapidly as they moved forward, hitting the gas felt the power of the engine beneath him. Like a trained beast it roared again as the bike lurched forward, lights changing to a Doppler stream in his peripheral vision, streaks of red and blue that passed him by as the yellow line appeared. He saw the crowd leap up as the two bikes crossed. Then he saw the flash of red to his side, finally casting an eye to his side as he slowed saw the other bike shiver then spin out of control. Turning to the side was too late, the wheel of the other spun out. The shudder ran through his bike as the other's tire his his rear and the bike turned and began to tilt. Time seemed to stretch out, like an elastic, as he felt the bike turn and lean. Pulling a leg up he moved as time slowed around him, the adrenaline becoming a current that ran through him as he moved a foot up to the seat, turning the handlebars and letting the bike lean and slide. The foot rest took most of the friction, the rubber wore away in the first ten feet, the metal inside touched the street sending out a stream of sparks behind him. Ahead the curb slowly came, the crowd parting ahead of him, faces of surprise and eyes tinged with fear as he watched the high curb approach, knowing if he hit that it would be all over. A smile on his face as he held on, welcoming the open door ahead of him, wanting to know what would happen. Anticipating it like a small child watching his sundae being made and placed before him at the ice cream counter, the sweetness of it making his mouth water. Wanting it, Gabriel held on to the bike and as the curb moved closer the elastic returned to its size. The crowd seemed to speed up and with it the sparks and the sound of metal on street sounded sharp in the air as the bike slowed then stopped two feet from the curb. Stepping off the bike at the last moment to a collective gasp of the crowd he punched the air in disappointment, to the crowd it looked different as they crowded around again congratulating him. You fucker, he said softly in the helmet, tease me like that all you want. I will know. I will know, he promised as he took off the helmet and then turned to see the other racer lying on the street barely moving, a slight protrusion of white coming through a leg of the red jumpsuit as blood pooled on the street. Watching the sun come up as he rode the bike through the streets, luckily the damage from the spill was not major. A new foot rest and tires would suffice, lucky he was told, Gabriel felt as if he was again being teased. As he waited at a light cursing whatever it was that denied him the knowledge he sought, ahead of him was an old style train car diner, the silver of it still bright, and shining red in the early morning light. The smell of fried potatoes and coffee filled the air as he rode the bike in and took off the helmet. Smiling as he walked in took a booth seat and felt the pulse of his phone, reading the email message as the waitress appeared he looked up at her, a knowing smile on his face. Morning hun, what can I get you? She put a cup of coffee on the plain silver table, wiping down the other side out of habit. Can I get a turkey on rye? He asked as she shrugged and took his order. Pulling up the email he typed quickly on the phone, not liking the tiny keyboard on the screen. The turkey lives for one day, all he can hope for is to be delicious. Our lives only serve the purpose we give them, knowingly or not. The eyes are the well of the soul, and the reflection of the final moments. I wish to see the reflection. Price is not a hindrance.