Chapter Text
His hands were beginning to sweat, holding on so tightly to the steering wheel of his cherished Rocinate, even as the snowflakes fell.
Always be listening, looking, feeling the cars you race alongside, his eyes flicked to the right and then to the left, desperately searching for black and gold among the blizzard. He could only see blue and red racing stripes a bit further back in his side mirrors… good. He couldn't help a smirk sneaking across his chapped lips, knowing he was ahead of his competitor at least.
That feeling didn’t have the time to last, as from his right a motorcycle blew right on by, the light from his headlights catching on the rider’s helmet. He gritted his teeth and glanced down at the marked paper flittering on his dash, setting aside the notion of fear for one of competition. The blizzard grew ever more fierce as his boot slammed down on the gas petal, fingers reaching up to slam an improvised visor over his eyes in protest to the snow stinging his cheeks.
The car had no problem catching the motorcyclist in her moment of glory, he lightly turned the wheel and rode closer to the racer, wheels kicking up wet slush and flinging it into her side… though no foul play comes without revenge. She grit her teeth and pushed her vehicle further, the sound her motor made struck him with a twinge of concern; though it quickly dissipated as she whipped in front of his Rocinate, flinging slush and gravel onto his windshield and what parts of his face were uncovered before accelerating further and pulling out of sight.
He could feel the tendons in his hand slide over his knuckles, gripping the wheel tighter and resolving to cut through the blizzard to catch his opponent.
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His heart dropped into his stomach as the faint noise of screeching metal presented itself to him. He looked frantically back into his mirrors, the red and blue stripes were gone, replaced by a plume of deep grey smoke and licks of flame visible through the snow. He felt as though he was suffocating, even deep breathing only worsened the tightness of his chest. The slip of paper flitted about at the edge of his vision, mocking him almost. Soon enough, a hunk of black and gold metal ripped through the blizzard, it’s driver a shining beacon of terror in his eyes.
He glanced forward again, and heard shortly after metal clinking and scraping behind him. He’d look back, but his neck felt stiff, averting his gaze. He could only wait for what would come next, what always comes next.
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Out of the corner of his vision he saw a flaming hook and chain tear past the side of his car, through the thick blanket of snow engulfing the race. Nary a moment later he heard the collision between the hook and what had to be the motorcycle. Time almost seemed to slow as the driver crashed and rolled towards him, her bike sliding across the road, tire mangled by the hook. He tried to veer right off the track, away from the rider and away from the oppressive heat at his back.
A fruitless attempt, the driver’s body vaulted off a stray rock and slammed against his windshield, a trail of blood being left where her face made contact and promptly slid upward. He saw behind her shattered visor for a brief, shining moment- two eyes brimming with fear foretold her story.
It was then he knew that this run was over.
Everything turned into a blur as he felt their bodies collide, as he felt himself being crushed and crumpled when his car slammed into the wood and brick of a very poorly placed building against the side of the track.
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He opened his eyes, ready to confront the track ahead of him. The weather was nice, though it looked like a storm might roll in… hopefully the race wouldn’t get cancelled. A thought crossed his mind, and he picked up a pencil from a groove in his dash, marking another dash on a still piece of paper attached to his car. The speakers caught his attention, as the broadcaster began to announce the route and the racers to the cheering audience.
“ ...and finally, racer number 24, Highway Cavalier… our lineup looks tight this year… but enough with that… let the race… ”
Norton readied himself, gazing longingly at the track stretching out ahead of him, at his shot at the future. His boot hovered above the gas petal, stray pieces of confetti colored his vision as they flew by on the breeze,
“
BEGIN.”