"Road Rage"A Story by Cody Williams“Road Rage” By Cody Williams
1. Darryl couldn’t
help but grin when he looked down at his cell phone and he saw that his
girlfriend, Sandy, had sent him a text message. He swiped the screen unlocking
it and clicked READ NOW. The text message read: Hey honey! Come to my house ASAP! I got a
new outfit that I know you would love to see me model! See you soon! XOXO. He leaped out of
the chair in his room and shoved the cell phone back into his pocket. He
quickly walked over to the coat rack next to his door and grabbed his beloved
leather jacket off of it. Darryl slipped it on completing his white t-shirt and
blue jeans greeser look and walked out of the door. He walked down the hallway
and down the staircase to the living room. Darryl walked through the living
room to the front door and opened it. “Where are you
going honey?” Darryl’s mom said walking into the living room from the laundry
room. He rolled his eyes and sighed. “Out.” Darryl
simply replied. He walked out of the door and off the front porch to the
driveway wanting nothing else to do with his mother. He had been waiting far
too long to get into his girlfriends to be stopped by that b***h. In the
driveway sat his prized position. It was his 1958 Plymouth Fury. He bought it
used from a car dealer in the county. The car was a
complete still. It was cherry red with chrome rear and front bumpers and a
white convertible top. It was in nearly perfect condition. The only flaw with
it when he first got it was a small nick in the paint on the driver side door
just below the window. But it was an easy fix. A little bit of touch up paint
and it was just like new again. He only paid fifty
dollars for it. You see the car had a bit of a dark past. The former owner’s
name was Oscar Stephens. He had the car for years. One weekend when he was on a
business trip he came back home and the car had been moved out of the garage
where it was never supposed to leave unless he was driving it. When he walked
up to it he saw that somebody was dead inside. He couldn’t even tell who the
poor girl was. Whoever, or whatever killed her ripped her face clean off along
with one of her legs. After seeing that
Oscar did things that I don’t think that anyone would even question. He put the
car up for sale for only fifty dollars. When Darryl showed interest in buying
it the man claimed the reason he is selling it for so cheap is that the smell
of the rotting flesh is still inside the car. Some smells are harder to get rid
of you know? But he didn’t even think twice about buying it. Darryl didn’t give
a s**t. A car’s a car. Only one more thing to show everybody what a big bad a*s
he was. Darryl walked to
the driver’s side of the car and opened the door. He got in Carly, which is
what he named it, and slammed the car door shut. He put the key in the ignition
and started it. The put of the engine put a smile to his face. Still grinning,
he looked into the rear view mirror and began running his hands through his wavy
black hair. He gave himself a wink and then put on his typical badass sunglasses.
Darryl reached down putting the car into reverse and back out of the driveway
into the road. He put the car into drive and began driving. 2. Darryl wasn’t one
to obey the speed limit. The thought of his girlfriend who he has been trying
to get in the sack of at least six months drove him wild. His foot began
getting closer and closer to the floorboard with anticipation. He merged onto
the highway passing a sign reading TURKEY TOWN. Turkey Town was a small
community just outside the city. Sandy lived in about the center of Turkey Town,
which started on the old Andrew Harington Highway but often referred to now as
The Lost Highway. The speed limit through this road was thirty miles per hour.
Darryl was easily going fifty-five. This was not so
strange behavior. Even large dump trucks that often roam up and down the road
go well over the speed limit. They go that speed because they know they can get
away with it. There is only one police officer that stays in the limits of
Turkey Town and he is too Goddamn lazy to get off of his fat a*s and patrol.
Instead, he just sits on his a*s in the local police department stuffing his
face with doughnuts. He continued to go
dangerously over the speed limit until finally gaining up on a small rusted out
black Chevrolet Omega. It was most ugly car he’d ever seen. The car was going
dead on thirty miles per hour. “Just perfect! The
day finally comes when I get to get some and I get stuck behind a Goddamn
grandpa on the way!” Darryl said to himself. He slammed on the brakes slowing
down to thirty miles per hour and road the bumper of the ugly black car. “Come
on you son of a b***h! Let’s go!” Darryl shouted out of the window impatiently.
He began honking the horn of the car forcefully. “Let’s go mother f****r!”
Darryl shouted out the window again. The small black car’s speed continued to
get slower and slower. First at thirty then at twenty-five. It was strange,
but he couldn’t see anyone in the car. The rear windshield was that damn tented
glass that you can’t see in…but they can see out. Darryl glanced at his
speedometer as the orange/red needle continued to drop. Now they both going
just fifteen miles per hour. Darryl’s face began to get red with anger. ‘This son of a
b***h is just doing this to f*****g piss me off!’ Darryl thought to himself and
then began honking the horn once more. He began to swerve his car backwards and
forwards trying to find a way around the car but the Omega continued to cut him
off as the needle still continued to drop. The two of them were now going just
five miles per hour and steam practically began poring out of Darryl’s ears
with anger. Then the little
black car did something unexpected. It pulled over to the side of the road and
stopped. Then a man with several tattoos up and down his arms stuck his arm out
the window and motioned for Darryl to go around him. A smirk came over Darryl’s
face and slammed the throttle down to the floorboard while smoking the rear
tires and flipping the bird to the man in the black Omega. The man just smiled
as Darryl passed him. 3. “F**k
you mother f****r.” Darryl said with a smirk on his face while flipping off the
rear view mirror. But something was strange this time. Darryl looked down at
his speedometer and the needle was pointing at 45. He glanced back up into the
rear view mirror at the little black car and it was right there with him
closely in pursuit. “What the f**k?” Darryl shouted, as he pressed harder on
the throttle launching him to 55. The
Omega continued to follow at an unsafe distance. Darryl continued staring at
the rear view mirror trying to get a good look at the man in the car behind
him. He just couldn’t see his face. All he could see was the man’s tattoo
covered arms. He looked down at the speedometer once more that was now reading
65 and he began sweating bullets. “What
the hell to you think you’re doing man? Get off my a*s!” Darryl shouted out the
window looking back at the car. He pulled himself back in and continued the
drive reaching 80 miles per hour. That’s when he first got the idea. You know
what they say, pay back’s a b***h. He began to apply the brakes and the
speedometer needle began to drop. He continued breaking until reaching about
thirty then the bumper of the black car behind him crashed in to his perfect
rear chrome bumper. “What
the f**k? You stupid a*****e!” Darryl shouted out the window again as he once
again to pick up speed. But nothing changed. The black car continued glued to
his bumper all the way back up to eighty miles per hour. Sweat continued poring
like someone was holding a water hose over his head with fear. They
both reached the coveted 100 miles per hour mark with the black car still in
hot pursuit of Darryl. ‘There’s
only one shot I have to get away from this b*****d! I need to turn into the
church parking lot!’ Darryl thought to himself. The two of them were now going
evenly 120 miles per hour. When Darryl reached the turn off to the church
parking lot he slammed on the breaks and took a hard right. The front bumper of
the black car nailed the corner of 1958 Plymouth Fury spinning it around and
flipping it over into the church parking lot. “S**t!”
Darryl shouted as all four tires launched into the air. The car did a complete
flip before finally landing on its roof. The man in the black car slammed on
his breaks and turned the car around in a complete 360. He drove the car back
up the road and turned into the church parking lot. The black car pulled beside
the Plymouth and Darryl clamed out through the shattered driver’s side window. The
driver’s side door of the black Omega swung open and the man stepped out. The
man was big and muscular with his arms covered in tattoos. He was wearing a
plain black t-shirt and black jeans. He had black leather workboats with what
looked like blood stains on them. He slowly walked over to Darryl who was just
standing there in awe. The
man reached into his pocket pulling out a switchblade pocketknife. He pushed
the button at the center of the knife and the knife popped out. He began to
slowly glide the knife against the bare skin on Darryl’s throat as Darryl
trembled with fear. The
man smiled revealing his yellow stained teeth with a couple of the top ones
missing. “What…what
do you want?” Darryl asked him losing his badass attitude. The man just smiled
at him. “What
the hell do you think?” The man said giggling while wearing a wicked smile and
Darryl began to scream with fear as the man began sliding the knife into his
throat with ease. Copyright 2014 by Cody Williams Courtesy of TRUE TERROR PUBLICATIONS A division of TTP Entertainment UCMB-LET0-EX7Q-TFMA" title="Copyrighted.com Registered & Protected UCMB-LET0-EX7Q-TFMA" width="150" height="40" src="http://static.copyrighted.com/images/seal.gif" /> © 2014 Cody WilliamsAuthor's Note
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10 Reviews Added on January 2, 2014 Last Updated on January 2, 2014 Tags: horor, action, thriller, Road Rage, Cody Williams AuthorCody WilliamsElizabethton, TNAboutI am in my second year at Carson-Newman University in Jefferson City, Tennessee were I major in instrumental music education and minor in English. My passions include playing the trombone/euphonium an.. more..Writing
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