Chapter 1

The air crackled with tension as Johnny “The Invincible’ Victoris tore around Banger Blitz Raceway, vying once more for the championship title on the famed Banzai Bangers track.

His ever loyal Crown Vic’s turbo-charged engine roaring fiercer with each succeeded speed limit, the reinforced chassis trembling with each tight turn and jerk he undertook with scorching wheels. There was little else on Johnny’s mind save his final victory, this would be his last hurrah at Banger Blitz Raceway and historically, it’d be the most dangerous.

Johnny slammed the gear shift, the engine snarling like a cornered beast as the car surged forward. One by one, his competitors were left in his wake, mere obstacles on the track against his precise manoeuvring. The crowd roared as he zoomed by; another round lap. He checked his rear view for the competition and there was the only person he was truly cautious about— a midnight black shadow haunted his rear, roaring from the darkness was Brandon, the Shadow Wolf.

There he is. Johnny thought at the reflection of Brandon’s midnight Lincoln Continental growling right up at his rear. He swallowed as his long-time rival picked up speed rather than slow down as they led up a turn, Johnny yanked his wheels straight as he could all while compensating for the inevitable— Bang!

Johnny’s vehicle was shunted forward, the force of Brandon’s car nearly twisted his wheels off the asphalt and into a crash but Brandon was far too murderous to skip out on the opportunity to take him out of the race and life, permanently. So freaking predictable, it’s annoying. Johnny twisted out of the turn and from the wall Brandon was attempting to charge him into, with his engine revving hotter as it fought against Brandon’s pushing force, Johnny quickly jerked out of the would-be death trap and back onto the main track.

The crowds continued to scream their lungs away at the skillful save but Johnny knew he wasn’t out of the woods yet. Brandon would always go all out during these championship races, he had a murderous reputation amongst the racers and was fond of targeting retiring racers in their last round. Many of those ruthless challenges ended up in the fiery deaths of those racers and Johnny met all the requirements and more to be Brandon’s target.

He’s not gonna give up so easily. Johnny thought through gritted teeth, he squeezed his steering and steadied his resolve to walk away from his final Banzai Banger race in one whole piece. There would be no outside interference, no referees, no umpires calling out the bad eggs and reminding of rules— there were no rules, just winners. And that’s what Johnny was.

Shifting into the next gear Johnny looked up for Brandon’s stubborn reflection, only to find it partially missing. He looked over his shoulder and found the shadow wolf roaring by the edge of his rear, his eyes widened as realized Brandon was about to go for the kill and toss his car off the track completely.

Screw that! Johnny slammed the brakes just as Brandon made to swerve into his rear end. Brandon ended up grinding against Johnny’s passenger window, his scowl visible even behind the dozens of sparks and the thick racer helmet. But Johnny wasn’t done. He hit the gas with Brandon at his right-side, drove both cars towards the outer race wall, the boundary between the vicious racers and their adoring fans. Their screams of joy, shock and cheer were outclassed as Brandon’s car was sandwiched between Johnny and the wall, burning and grinding away as they sped along, a metal wailing sung as they struggled.

For a moment Johnny was tempted to do as Brandon had already done to two racers in this very race, to keep up the pressure and crush the shadow wolf and his vehicle to the flammable end he wished for Johnny. But as Johnny shut his eyes he sighed, I didn’t save your life once just to kill you, Brandon. He shifted his gear and spun his wheel, taking off to re-join the race while Brandon smoked at the end behind him.

As he peeled away and onto the track, his radio crackled with a familiar voice, “That was a nice move there, Johnny, double wall ride huh and not the fun kind.” It was Terry, the blue-green car he was pulling up behind, Johnny’s loyal friend and teammate, “Though, knowing Brandon, that’s more likely to make him pissed than teach him a lesson.”

Eyes on the prize, Johnny took a second to reply with a shrug as he easily overtook Terry’s blue-green car, “Well what can you do? He’s hated my guts for the longest time and now it’s my final championship race, he’s too predictable not to come after me. I’m ready.”

Emerging from the shadows, Brandon lingered behind, this time creeping closer to Terry than Johnny. A knot formed tight in his throat as he watched Terry attempt to block his way. But Brandon wasn’t called the Shadow Wolf for nothing, he pulled up beside Terry enough to spin out his car by smashing against the rear-right side of it, forcing Terry to over-correct and crash into the outer wall as he lost control of his vehicle.

Johnny’s heart leapt in his chest at the broken sight of Terry’s car in his mirror, its front end was crushed and Terry— “Terry! Terry, answer me, are you alright?” Johnny barked into the radio, already slowing down just in case he was needed.

“Ugh, yeah, yeah, I’m alright.” Terry’s voice was unsteady, like he’d stepped out into the cold and was shivering. “I…I think I’m gonna call it quits here, the car's busted up. Get them for me, Johnny.”

“You got it.” Johnny said, relief washing over him as he kicked back into top gear, conscious of the Shadow Wolf encroaching behind him. He’d made up for the distance between them quickly since Johnny slowed down briefly and was now speeding up to ram against his rear.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Johnny grunted with the blow, gripping his steering and checking his car for extensive damage Brandon kept delivering. He worried about accumulating too much and being forced to use his trump card; a high-end car safety piece of tech his sponsors, D.R.I.F.T.E.R.S, had him testing the past few weeks. He’d never used it outside a formal test though but if there was anyone capable of forcing a situation where he’d be forced to, it’d be Brandon.

Keeping that thought aside, Johnny swerved and dodged a wreck pile of burning vehicles sitting on the track. Whether that was accidental or a product of Brandon’s ruthlessness he didn’t know. His eyes fixed on the shadow wolf revving up to overtake him, his dark form a menace in the smoke-filled track. He roared promises of death over his growling engine.

Brandon stayed glued to Johnny’s side repeatedly even as they rounded out through turn four. The flag stand waved white; One more lap to go. Johnny and Brandon were neck and neck, few others were left in the race, either tapping out or becoming a part of the several burning car wrecks left out in the middle of the track as obstacles.

Every dodge around twisted metal only brought them back to grinding against each other, locked in their unyielding battle for dominance. Brandon was relentless and Johnny had a name to live up to.

Johnny's grip tightened on the wheel as Brandon made another aggressive move, ramming into his rear. The car bucked under the impact, and Johnny fought to regain control, the tires screeching in protest. But Brandon wasn’t backing off. His intentions were clear, and Johnny realized them a second too late as the shadow wolf slammed into his side with brutal precision.

The jolt sent Johnny’s car spinning wildly, the tires screeching as they lost their grip on the asphalt. His heart pounded as the car tumbled, the world blurring into a chaotic storm of smoke, sparks, and screams from the crowd and Johnny’s own yelps. The first impact with the ground was bone-jarring, followed by another as the car rolled, pieces of metal tearing away like paper.

Then came the worst sound—a dull, ominous thud—as the fuel tank ruptured. Fuel sprayed out, catching sparks from the wreckage around him. An inferno was born in an instant, its nascent, hungry flames licking at the edges of the overturned car. Johnny’s eyes followed their end path and in turn his as the tumbled race car had drifted next to a bonfire of twisted wrecks.

Damn it! Johnny cursed inwardly, his breath coming in shallow, rapid gasps. His body was pinned awkwardly against the crumpled roof of his overturned car, the acrid stench of smoke and gasoline stinging his nose. Every nerve in his body screamed at him to move, to fight back, but there was nothing he could do.

His wide eyes darted to the side, catching sight of the Shadow Wolf looming like a predator ready to pounce. He’s not stopping. He’s not aiming to take the finish line! Panic gripped Johnny’s chest like a vice as the realization hit him, cold and sharp. He doesn’t care about winning—he just wants me dead.

“No! Brandon, don’t—!” Johnny’s voice cracked with desperation, but it was too late for pleas.

With a deafening roar of the Shadow Wolf’s engine, Brandon plowed into Johnny’s car with unrelenting force. Metal screamed as it buckled, the violent collision shoving Johnny’s wreck into the towering pile of twisted vehicles ahead and straight through the finish line. If Johnny could live he would be the winner but as long as he died, Brandon’s murderous second would become first place.

I just have to live! To win!

The precarious stack of battered cars groaned under the sudden force, and with horrifying inevitability, it began to collapse. Vehicles tumbled like dominoes, smashing onto Johnny’s car, pinning it tighter beneath their weight. Flames erupted around him, licking hungrily at the wreckage as the heat intensified.

Pinned and surrounded by fire, Johnny’s pulse thundered in his ears. He could see Brandon’s silhouette through the haze, the other driver stepping out of his car with chilling calm.

“Have a nice trip to hell, invincible,” Brandon sneered, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade.

Please let this work. Johnny prayed and pushed the button on his special helmet, unleashing the trump card his sponsors prepared. There was a whirr of gears and a loud click before the helmet unravelled upon his head and dressed his entirety in a layer of the rare metal; Lonsdaleite.

There had been many times the tech he tested for his sponsors failed woefully and now encased in a veritable suit of armour, in a metal barbecue about to die without seeing his winning trophy, Johnny sincerely hoped now wasn’t one of those times.

There was a sudden burst of pressure so massive it tore him straight out of the vehicle and into the air. Suddenly spiralling mid-air and unsure of where or how he was falling, Johnny tucked his legs in, curling up in a ball as best as he could in the metal and braced for the fall to come.

Johnny struck the ground head first, the thin albeit protective Lonsdaleite plates creaked and groaned as he rolled with the momentum for a few seconds before coming to a stop.

He sat there for a moment, groaning through the pain and heat before rising to meet the clamour of people calling out his name and asking about his well-being. It was like the entire spectators stand had rushed out to check on him, fans, managers, people from his pit crew and even other racers like Terry were among them.

An announcement of his victory came through the speakers, declaring him the winner of the Banzai Banger championship race this year. He fumbled for the button and pressed it to release the Lonsdaleite armour encasing him. He stood within a small but shocking impact crater and while the crowd of compassionate folk bothered over him he turned to look at what was left of his car and Brandon’s finding nothing but a smouldering wreck he couldn’t possibly have walked away from without the technology.

Well, at least we know it works, it saved my life. He thought before finally giving the crowds that had come to check on him some responses. “I’m fine, I’m fine everyone! Thank you!”

He waved and grinned widely like the winner he was and had become. Terry let him fall on his shoulder and helped Johnny waddle over to receive his well-deserved checkered flag.

“You did it, man, you did it.” Terry said in marvel.

As they approached the flag stand, Brandon stood waiting for them with an intense scowl. He was as tall, dark and imposing as his car with tufts of fur that outlined a sharp jaw, his eyes embodied the fury of the Convar race even as a hybrid himself. The wolf man sneered at Johnny, “You couldn’t just give me the peace of your death, could you?” he all but growled, tapping a clawed finger against his folded arm.

Johnny ignored Brandon, he was the victor at the end of the day and there was no reason to deal with a hateful spoilsport. Seeing he wouldn’t be entertained, Brandon shoved past Terry and Johnny, leaving them to enjoy their victory with champagne and beautiful women cheering.