Protector (TFP)

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ -ᴀ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴘᴇᴇᴅ-

ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪꜱ ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴘɪꜱᴏᴅᴇ ꜱᴘᴇᴇᴅ ᴍᴇᴛᴀʟ

The forest was usually peaceful. The only sounds interrupting the silence were the occasional howl of wolves and the rustle of wind that blew through the leaves. The crickets that typically sang their song were silent as the growl of multiple engines cut through the night. Cars made for speed challenged each other with each rev—the vehicles begging to be used.

One man oozed confidence from every pore, his inky tattoos flowing up his body and resting on his neck as multiple piercings lay on his face. His arms hung nonchalantly outside his car as his gaze rested on the starter who stood in the middle of the runway, and he scoffed, unimpressed by the sight. The rumble of a car drew his attention to the side, and his eyes followed the red Aston Martin that pulled up beside him.

"Not from around here. European design?" The man taunted, his fingers calmy tapping against his black steering wheel. His brows furrowed as the competitor said nothing, the black tinted-out windows only revealing his reflection. "Sure is pretty." He commented, his first clenching as he glanced at the giant ring on his finger.

"Too pretty." With lips upturned in a malicious smirk, his ring scraped against the car next to him, leaving a big lighting-shaped scratch against the once flawless finish. The man chuckled as he brought his hand back to the steering wheel, his window rolling up as his focus went back to the starter in front of them. Little did he know that no one sat in the car's driver's seat, and he would soon pay tenfold for the damage he caused.

"Big Mistake." The Aston Martin growled, gears shifting as the starter whipped his hand down, signaling the race had started. The vehicles shot forward, roaring past the starter and leaving a cloud of dust in their wake. The man's foot pressed on his accelerator, and his exhaust pipe lit into flames, pushing him further ahead of the others. 

He grinned in satisfaction as the cars in the rear-view mirror became smaller and smaller before disappearing entirely as he rounded a corner. However, the grin was wiped off his face when the sounds of screeching tires filled his ears, and his eyes shot back at a familiar red vehicle quickly gaining on him. Before he knew it, the front of the Aston Martin rammed into the back of his car, whipping the man forward.

"Hey!" The man exclaimed, his eyes widening with fear when he saw the car come in for another hit. He had no control over his vehicle as it spun off the road, and his stomach dropped as he flew over a cliff, his car flipping mid-air and landing painfully against the unforgiving rock.

"Aw, dude." He groaned, his hand lifting to his head as a steady thud shot through his brain, and his vision blurred as he tried to move. A harsh light forced its way into the scene, and he glanced up, barely recognizing them as headlights. As his consciousness slowly retreated to the back of his brain, his ears processed one last sentence before fading to black.

"You scratch my paint; I scratch yours."

* * * * * *

The hallways were always a bustle of chatter and flowing friends. It was rare to see the halls empty and quiet, and I longed for the day I could experience sweet silence. I sighed in annoyance as a shoulder harshly collided with mine, and I swallowed down the few choice words I so desperately wanted to scream out. 

Usually, I wasn't bothered by the ruckus nature of High School, but today Miko was in detention, and I was left to walk out of the building by myself. Something that I had come to realize was a dreadful experience without the pink-haired girl by my side.