Ride It Out - Go Karts
Inspiration: Go Karts
Characters: Tetrax and Myaxx
Word Count: 815
Summary: When Mark Smith drove off to work that morning, he had no idea he'd be taking the bus home.
Rating: PG-13
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Driving alone down a deserted highway was one of the few things Mark Smith liked about his job. No other cars to worry about or watch out for. No passengers complaining how he was driving like an old lady. The sun barely peeking over the horizon, his favorite band playing on the stereo, his lips pulled into a mile-wide smile before he began to sing along.
Then, in the distance, he saw a couple of hitchhikers waiting by the road. He frowned.
If there's one thing he'd learned from all the suspense books he'd read and television shows he'd watch was that you never, ever pick up a hitchhiker. They might be serial murderers looking for their next victim or escaped fugitives on the lam or who know what else.
As he neared the duo, it became obvious by the way his car was accelerating that he had no intentions of letting them join him. He didn't so much as give them a passing glance when he zipped by them. Had he taken a peek in the rear-view mirror, he would have seen one of them press his palms down to the ground. At least that way he could have gotten an idea from where the wall of crystal that shot up from the ground came.
Then again, he was too busy slamming his foot down on the brakes and swerving the car to ponder too much. Mark managed to avoid a collision and thanked his lucky stars he hadn't been going that fast. He got out of his car to inspect the barrier that seemed to have sprouted out of nowhere.
As he studied the unusual obstacle, a gruff voice stated from behind him "Excuse us."
His blood ran cold once he turned around and saw it was the two hitchhikers he had ignored. "Oh God!" he squeaked, suddenly fishing for his wallet. "I'm sorry! Here! Take my money! Just don't kill me!"
"That was easy," the woman with bright, venom-green hair smirked to the broad-shouldered man standing beside her.
"We only require your vehicle," The other hitchiker explained, staring pointedly at the wallet Mark held out to him.
"K-keys are in the car."
The pair nodded to each other and wordlessly walked to the car. Mark swallowed and carefully scanned his surroundings and found a particularly large rock. He had no intention of taking them on, but in the event they decided they wanted to leave no witness, he wanted to have something to defend himself with. He nonchalantly (well, as nonchalantly as he could) reached for the rock, he paused when he heard the woman protest "I'm not going to fit in this heap."
The rock firmly in his hand and hidden behind his back, Mark righted himself to listen in on the two hitchhiker's conversation.
"You could if you ride in the back," the man suggested when he studied the car.
"I still won't fit," she glowered, folding her arms across her chest. "Besides, I'll be no use lying down."
Mark stared in confusion. What was she talking about? His brow quirked when the man said "Let me try something." and motioned for the woman to step back. Mark found his eyes wrenching shut and his hands flying to cover his ears when the air was filled with the ear-piercing screech of stone grating metal and cracking glass.
Once sweet silence returned Mark opened his eyes. And broke out into a cold sweat. He stared, slack-jawed at the sight of the woman pulling the roof off his car.
"Now I'll fit," the woman grinned, visibly pleased with the result.
"You can thank me later. Just get in."
Mark continued to stare in disbelief, grip having gone slack on the large rock that lay forgotten at his feet. Had he not been too focused on how the man had sliced through metal with his bare hands or how the woman had pried the roof open with the ease of prying open a bag of chips he might have noticed other telling signs that they weren't ordinary hitchhikers.
Specifically the fact that the man's shadow was blocky with a sharp protrusion on the back of his head. And that the woman's shadow stretched far beyond that of the man's and seemed to have either really thick strands of hair or tentacles.
The man kept one foot on the ground while he started the car. The engine roared to life and the barrier submerged back underground, leaving a deep gash on the road and sending Mark stumbling off road. Dazed, he watched the pair drive off, cringing each time the car stalled and had to be restarted.
Mark didn't know why (once the pair was out sight and out of ear-shot) the first words out of his mouth were "Must be his first time to drive a stick."
Characters: Tetrax and Myaxx
Word Count: 815
Summary: When Mark Smith drove off to work that morning, he had no idea he'd be taking the bus home.
Rating: PG-13
--------------
Driving alone down a deserted highway was one of the few things Mark Smith liked about his job. No other cars to worry about or watch out for. No passengers complaining how he was driving like an old lady. The sun barely peeking over the horizon, his favorite band playing on the stereo, his lips pulled into a mile-wide smile before he began to sing along.
Then, in the distance, he saw a couple of hitchhikers waiting by the road. He frowned.
If there's one thing he'd learned from all the suspense books he'd read and television shows he'd watch was that you never, ever pick up a hitchhiker. They might be serial murderers looking for their next victim or escaped fugitives on the lam or who know what else.
As he neared the duo, it became obvious by the way his car was accelerating that he had no intentions of letting them join him. He didn't so much as give them a passing glance when he zipped by them. Had he taken a peek in the rear-view mirror, he would have seen one of them press his palms down to the ground. At least that way he could have gotten an idea from where the wall of crystal that shot up from the ground came.
Then again, he was too busy slamming his foot down on the brakes and swerving the car to ponder too much. Mark managed to avoid a collision and thanked his lucky stars he hadn't been going that fast. He got out of his car to inspect the barrier that seemed to have sprouted out of nowhere.
As he studied the unusual obstacle, a gruff voice stated from behind him "Excuse us."
His blood ran cold once he turned around and saw it was the two hitchhikers he had ignored. "Oh God!" he squeaked, suddenly fishing for his wallet. "I'm sorry! Here! Take my money! Just don't kill me!"
"That was easy," the woman with bright, venom-green hair smirked to the broad-shouldered man standing beside her.
"We only require your vehicle," The other hitchiker explained, staring pointedly at the wallet Mark held out to him.
"K-keys are in the car."
The pair nodded to each other and wordlessly walked to the car. Mark swallowed and carefully scanned his surroundings and found a particularly large rock. He had no intention of taking them on, but in the event they decided they wanted to leave no witness, he wanted to have something to defend himself with. He nonchalantly (well, as nonchalantly as he could) reached for the rock, he paused when he heard the woman protest "I'm not going to fit in this heap."
The rock firmly in his hand and hidden behind his back, Mark righted himself to listen in on the two hitchhiker's conversation.
"You could if you ride in the back," the man suggested when he studied the car.
"I still won't fit," she glowered, folding her arms across her chest. "Besides, I'll be no use lying down."
Mark stared in confusion. What was she talking about? His brow quirked when the man said "Let me try something." and motioned for the woman to step back. Mark found his eyes wrenching shut and his hands flying to cover his ears when the air was filled with the ear-piercing screech of stone grating metal and cracking glass.
Once sweet silence returned Mark opened his eyes. And broke out into a cold sweat. He stared, slack-jawed at the sight of the woman pulling the roof off his car.
"Now I'll fit," the woman grinned, visibly pleased with the result.
"You can thank me later. Just get in."
Mark continued to stare in disbelief, grip having gone slack on the large rock that lay forgotten at his feet. Had he not been too focused on how the man had sliced through metal with his bare hands or how the woman had pried the roof open with the ease of prying open a bag of chips he might have noticed other telling signs that they weren't ordinary hitchhikers.
Specifically the fact that the man's shadow was blocky with a sharp protrusion on the back of his head. And that the woman's shadow stretched far beyond that of the man's and seemed to have either really thick strands of hair or tentacles.
The man kept one foot on the ground while he started the car. The engine roared to life and the barrier submerged back underground, leaving a deep gash on the road and sending Mark stumbling off road. Dazed, he watched the pair drive off, cringing each time the car stalled and had to be restarted.
Mark didn't know why (once the pair was out sight and out of ear-shot) the first words out of his mouth were "Must be his first time to drive a stick."