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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Action/Adventure · #1832213
A race to determine bragging rights turns into a full out brawl.
         The beginning cords of Gun's and Roses "Welcome to the Jungle" pulsed through the air. I turned my head to Damon Osborn, who flashed me a toothy grin and revved his engine. I was going to die.
         "Kill 'em Damon!" Ginger Vice screamed from Damon's party. I pretended not to hear and leaned over the front of my bike.
         "Shut up you stupid whore! You'll make Damon a grease spot on the road, Chase!"Violet White screamed from my side of the tracks.
         "Remember what he did to Calypso!" I heard Gage, my quiet, sweet little brother cry. Still I thought on what he'd said. We still couldn't prove that Damon had kidnapped, raped and murdered our sister but considering that he'd been found unconscious and naked not far from the area put him on our scopes. I revved my engine, curled my body over my bike and thought murderous thoughts. Damon thought he had it in the bag. I was about to show him Revenge of the Grieving Sibling; Live.
         "Gentleman! Yo! Over here! Horny boys!" Damon nearly tipped his bike over when Violet walked into the middle of the road in the skimpiest bikini I've ever seen.
         "Dat's right perv, stare. On your bikes, on your marks ..." She winked at me and I tried to think of her as Calypso. Naked, cold, alone, with Damon over her. I nearly took of before it was time, with that thought. I couldn't kill Damon, yet. I could just win bragging right by leaving him in the dust.
         "Go!" Violet cried and we were off.
         I can never describe the thrill of racing on a motorcycle, and you wouldn't understand unless you've done it yourself. As I flew along the death defying course. As I flew over the top of a hill and crashed into the next hill with a soul numbing bump I cast a look back at Damon. There wasn't room for words to pass between us. One flick in concentration and you really would be a grease spot.
         Maybe it was the fact that my brain was filled to the brim with thoughts of Death but for the oddest reason "Hold Tight" from Death Proof was remixing with "Sympathy for the Devil" by the Rolling Stones. It was an interesting theme.I almost missed the turn as I concentrated on the music and making a last second change, I practically slid around the corner as Damon roared over me. Summer told me later, watching it all from the press box thing that it was like the trailer from some action flick like Fast and Furious or Death Proof. I wonder if she's ever even seen Death Proof? I know she's seen the Fast and Furious movies because I've seen her side of the room. Plus, like most of the Pack girls she screams after fast cars lines from the movies.
         I couldn't let Damon beat me. I was back on my bike and off like a shot. I considered defying the rules but than stuck on my "I will follow the rules because I won't become Damon.". Like the saying goes, if you can't beat them ... do better.

         I came around another bend doing a hundred, easily. I saw The haystacks, as I was flying through the air. I curled into a ball trying to protect most of my bones. I don't remember unfurling and changing so i could hit the ground running as a Wolf. I was racing after Damon's dust ball, filled with unstoppable rage.

         I watched in horror as Damon fishtailed so he could knock the hay down and trick Chase. Ginger smirked at me and I considered beheading her. Chris and Gage threw her nasty looks and spun me around. I don't remember my mouth opening or freeing my arms but the next thing I knew i was half leaning out of the press box screaming and waving frantically at Chase, who couldn't see me. Chris pulled me back as we watched Chase flying ever close to broken bones.
         I don't remember throwing myself at Ginger either when she commented "Well let it teach that fucking mutt to let the past be the past and dead bitches rot in their graves."

         I, Chris Green, was the only one watching Chase. Gage was screaming at Ginger and attacking anyone who tried to stop the fight. I cheered as Chase flew into the air and landed as a wolf. He didn't even stop to check for injuries which either meant he didn't have any or he was too driven with rage to feel pain.
         "You're talking about my sister you pussylicking whore!" Gage growled. I was impressed at his vocabulary.
         "You're sister was a whore, pipsqueak." This race was getting down and dirty with Summer and Ginger in the skimpiest of clothing (which was being dislodged as they fought), cheating, slandering, and fighting. I figured someone was going to end up dead by lunchtime at this rate.

         Damon hopped off his bike, smiling too himself as his Charges seemed to preoccupied with something upstairs to come congratulate him. He wished he could have seen Chase's spectacular crash. Maybe Ginger could give him the details. He turned to the stairs as a magnificent snarl ripped from the furry thing standing on the steps. Damon blinked stupidly at the wolf, trying to understand.
         "No way." He whispered, staring.
         "yes way." Chase snarled changing to his human form. "And now you pay for your every sin." Chase wasn't religious but at the moment the word 'sin' fit the scene. He carefully stepped down, a category five hurricane blooming on his face and throughout his body.

         I was the first to notice that Damon was back but last to notice that he wasn't climbing the stairs crowing about his win. Instead Ginger happened to look downstairs and see her love wrestling with none other than Chase.
         "Damon!" She screamed and clambered down the steps, her bra halfway down her waist and her shorts about to slide right off her hips. Summer had changed rather than be shamed with wrestling with her clothing. I was the first to grab Ginger.
         "The leaders are fighting, Ginger. You know the rules." I reminded her, tugging her back upstairs.
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