Author: ZoNe13 PM
Chase Crosser is a new guy to the world of racing, so he decides to challenge the god of racing, Takashi Samuo, and the DevilDogs, to race.Rated: Fiction T - English - Crime - Chapters: 5 - Words: 2,227 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 1 - Updated: 01-18-13 - Published: 12-15-12 - id: 8798982
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I was about sixteen when I first got into driving cars. I always told myself that I must not crash. This time was a little different. I was at a local nightclub with my friend Rob. He was about twenty-five years old, with dark skin, a do rag on his head, a stocky build, and about five feet nine. I was also twenty five years old, with light skin, dirty blonde hair, thin build, and about five feet eight.
"Come on now, Chase. You can't just sit there and expect not to get looked at wrong, right?" Rob said.
"I guess." I said, drinking a bottle of beer. I forgot to tell you my name. My name is Chase Crosser. I was born in Las Vegas, Nevada. My parents died when I was four years old due to a car accident, so my uncle took care of me. He was and still is a very funny man. He used to be in the comedy business. So was my dad, until my mom had me.
"Hey Rob, who are they?" I asked, pointing at a group of Japanese people.
"Nobody. Just the DevilDogs. The greatest Japanese underground racing team in America." He answered.
"So they're famous?"
"Infamous. Their lead driver and boss, Takashi Samuo, is on the FBI's Most Wanted List for extortion, drug trafficking, and reckless driving."
"Damn. And here I thought that driving fast was legal."
"Well, as long as it's not on the streets of Capital City. If you want fake speed, go to NASCAR."
Now, I know when I shouldn't do something. But this time around, I did something incredibly stupid. I went over to the booth the DevilDogs were sitting at, and spilled one of their drinks.
"What the fuck, gaijin?!" One of the racers yelled.
"I want to race. Now."
The guy, known as Takashi Samuo, got up and answered the call of duty.
"Where's your car?" He asked.
I led him outside, and showed him. It was a Mitsubishi Lancer, red. I don't know much about cars, I know. But this car was the only thing I had to drive.
"So, what do you want if you win?" he said.
"I want to race with you forever. And if you win?" I answered.
"Then your car is mine."
So we put our cars on the street, my Mitsubishi versus his modified Nissan 350z. The race started quickly, with us neck and neck against each other. But suddenly, I felt something come loose. Then my car spun out of control, and I crashed. The last thing I remember before passing out was Takashi saying: "Welcome to the DevilDogs."