~Knockout's POV~
We started for the racing arena. It was small, but can be used by the public, and by public I mean racers who have the money to get in. The government here had intended for the arena to be used for shows or concerts, but it was soon turned into a racing hub for rookie racers wanting their shot at glory. When we got there, the plan was thought out on how to crash the party.
"You don't happen to have any couple hundred dollars on you, do you (Y/N)?"
"Oh please. I asked to stop by the apartment for a reason!"
She reached inside a backpack that had come out with her when we stopped by.
"The fee is 700, but I'm sure I can lower that to 550."
"And how are you going to manage that?"
We were getting dangerously close the entrance.
"I'm prepared for 600."
She still thinks she can lower the price?
The guard looked inside, eyeing (Y/N).
"You ready to pay?"
"Depends on who the piper is."
"Alright then, 450 please."
If I could, I would have a hanging jaw right now. How did she do that?!
We left, and soon came to a young teen put a sticker on my windshield.
"If that leaves residue I will-"
"Have me clean it off for you. There's perks to having me around you know."
She was more than right, but I don't know if she knew. Perhaps she will never know. In the mean time, I need to find the perfect target. We roamed around, many seeming to be on guard. They either heard of us, or have seen us in action. It was amusing to see some think that they could barricade our way by simply standing in our path. I would rev my engine, then almost run them over, it was most delightful to watch them wriggle away from under me and run back into the crowd.
Soon, we reached the end of the large line of cars.
"Hold it Knockout," I heard (Y/N) say, "is that a 1968 Ford Mustang Shelby GT 500?"
"That's rather specific... but, yeah."
"Stop."
I complied, and watched as her face went from one of curiosity, to one of pure hatred. She stormed to the car, demanding to see the driver. When he came around, she slapped him.
~(Y/N)'s POV~
"YOU'RE THE AFT WHO STOLE MY CAR!"
"Um, excuse me?"
The black haired 26 year old only stared at me, not recognizing me for who I was. I say past tense because that's not me anymore.
"Tyson, you better hope- no - you better pray to Primus that you win the next no rules match!"
He just looked at me, obviously wondering how I knew his name, or even why.
"Wait a minute... You're that rookie Buster took on all that while ago! To bad he and his team left you after your car 'disappeared'."
"She didn't "disappear", you stole her!"
"HER. You called it a HER? Please, it's nothing but a piece of machinery used for sport. Besides, if you look at it now, it's nothing like it used to be."
I had looked at my once beautiful car, now ridden with a custom paint job of pure black. She once was light blue, purple pin-striping down her sides and along her hood, a tribal pattern atop her roof. That was gone now.
"You ruined her."
"I made her better, stronger too. Would you like to see the new engine?"
By now I could barely hold in my anger, and want for his blood to streak the roadway. I proposed a race, but he just laughed, saying that I need a car to race.
"Who said I didn't have a car? Out of this ring I'm known as Knockout. I've won 12 races and plan on winning many more after. And I ride with only one other, though he will not be revealed."
"Really? Show me this car of yours."
I did. And he was more than impressed, though he didn't show it. I could see the fear in his eyes slowly grow as he inspected Knockout. He agreed to a no rules match to the death.
"I'll see you on the track, Blue Butterfly."
"It's Knockout now, be sure to remember that after I kick your tailpipe."
Getting back into Knockout, he asked me what a no rules match was.
"Basically a death match, only whoever wrecks their car to the point of no longer repairable first loses, the death of the driver is only a mere casualty."
I knew Knockout would disapprove, especially when his finish was partially at stake, but I've done one of these before. It's how I got the name Blue Butterfly. They say that in the bleachers it looked as if I flew over my opponent as easily as a butterfly would a flower, gracefully, using the area around me to my advantage. I had the ability to see what would happen seconds before it did, as I have proved to Knockout before, though that ability grew to minutes in the time I was only a spectator.
Once we got to the head honcho, we explained the situation and soon had a match to the death ready and waiting. The whole time he just smiled, and I knew he planned on cheating, but it wouldn't go so well when Knockout was able to tell me of anything suspicious. I asked my handsome red car, when the meeting was over, and he said that someone came up behind him earlier. When I checked I found a small EMP charge right under him. Taking it off, I threw it at Tyson, hitting him squarely in the head.
"Check for anything weird, that boy will do anything to ensure a win. Even if it costs him family."
"Were you once?"
"Once what?"
"Family."
"Hmph, he was part of the crew I was with."
I gave no more information, not wanting to talk about a very sensitive subject. All I want right now, is him and his car ground into the pavement, nothing more than a grease splotch to mark their grave.
"Why don't you race to get your car back? Wouldn't that be easier, and less life threatening?"
I assumed he meant himself, Knockout is like that.
"It's not my car anymore. It's nothing to me. Tyson turned her into a monster with no personality or soul of her own. Even if she did have one still, it would be as black as that pain job, and as black as his withered heart."
We rolled up to one end of the arena that served as the no rules match zone. Parts were scattered everywhere from previous battles of man and machine, nothing had been picked up for over 12 years, save for some whole cars that made through the match, or were towed to be fixed up afterward. Surveying the large pace, I found ways to escape, ways to fool and ways to play. Soon Tyson came to the other end, ready for a fight.
"HELLO NEVADA!" The speaker rung loud and clear for the spectators, "BOY DO I HAVE A SPECIAL TREAT FOR YOU! WE HAVE THE BLACK MAMBA HERE TO FIGHT THE SEEMINGLY UNBEATABLE KNOCKOUT, IN A FIGHT TO THE DEATH!"
The crowd cheered, mostly for the racer I know as Tyson, who they know as the Black Mamba. Now I know why he was confused on how I knew his name. He was trying to erase his past too. To bad Karma came back to bite him.
"WE ALL THE RULES! WAIT, THERE ARE NONE!"
Laughter the most humerous kind, though I wasn't laughing.
"GO!"
Tyson put the pedal to the metal and decided that he would meet me half way, as did I.
"Now is not the time to play Chicken (Y/N)!"
"You only play chicken if you yourself are a chicken. Call this a test."
I kept my foot down, though Knockout protested with many attempts to brake, or relieve the pressure from the gas, but I was far to determined to let this be Tyson's fight to win.
As soon as his vehicle past the last opening, Tyson turned abruptly, me following suit. Small metal chunks almost hit Knockout's windshield, but they always missed. Soon the black car turned left, and I turned right, knowing that the sharp turn would only be a trap for a crash. Basically making myself disappear, I asked Knockout to track the boy for me, making sure to go slow so I wouldn't raise any dust.
"WOAH! SOMEONE'S SCARED! WHAT'S THE MATTER, SNAKE GOT YOUR TONGUE?!"
"Hardly," I said towards the announcer, though I knew he wouldn't hear.
"You have Tyson's where-abouts?"
"He'll be in-front of us in 5, 4, 3, 2-"
Just before '1' I accelerated, coming into Tyson's view faster than he can stop, but he tried either way and ended up spinning out trying to avoid his cherry colored enemy. Knockout was scratched slightly in the process, but it could be easily mended, that and he can heal.
"HEY! Watch what you're doing! If you're not careful I'll dump you and let you get run over!"
"You can heal, it's easy to repair a simple scratch like that! And don't you dare go on about how you feel pain, I've heard that speech before. I'm doing my best not to hurt you."
~Knockout's POV~
That last sentence was so, melancholy. She really is trying her best, but her ability isn't limitless, and I know she's relying on that, she always has. I can't help but wonder if it might fail her. There's always that possibility.
"DEAR PRIMUS!" We both hollered as the fleshie nearly put me into a wreck from a past fight.
"Let me take control! Your judgement is obviously clouded!"
"My judgement is just fi-AAAAAH!"
The Tyson kid appeared out of no where as I stopped without (Y/N)'s consent. This made her head fly forward, hitting my steering wheel in the process. She was out cold, and I was starting to... I'm panicking... Huh, that's a first in a race, but this isn't a regular race. If I lose, I die. That's not going to happen.
I made it so (Y/N)'s strap made her upright, and me 100% sure she won't be harmed. This was going to be fun.
"Karma's not your friend today bucko."
I floored it, heading straight toward the back end of the human's car. It kinda hurt knowing I was offlining my one and only's car, but she said it wasn't her anymore, that it meant nothing now. She said with such hate that I'm sure she truly doesn't care anymore. I guess it's one of those thoughts of 'if I can't have it back, no one can have it'. With this I agreed.
Taking a ramp to the side I flew over the black mustang and landed a few feet in front of him, making brake. I took this as an opportunity to mash in his hood a bit. Moving to reverse I used his sudden momentum forward against him, having my back wheels come up and over. I was satisfied with my work after his windshield cracked, and his hood was nothing but primer and lost rubber. Before he could catch me I raced off, seeing his obviously more than enraged face in my rear-view mirror.
"You better step up your game, or else this will just be a waste of my time."
I sped up to another ramp, my opponent right behind me. Waiting for the last second, I turned faster than the boy could think, making him go up and over the ramp that soon made him realize that he was in way over his head, and I was going to ensure that he drowned. I saw him coming up fast in the rear, so I went in reverse and whipped around him, going forwards again, leaving him to run into the rubble I had almost hit myself. When he did I heard the front end start to cave in on itself, but he was resilient, and backed out as soon as he hit.
"It's time to end this game of hit and run, let's face head on."
I took this chance to disappear, much like (Y/N) did, but I waited for the pronounced Black Mamba to appear in front of me before I did anything rash. We waited for someone to make the first move, and when no one did, I saw the boy get out of his car, and holler a threat that I knew wasn't true.
"One more move, and you blow to smithereens! The EMP projector wasn't the only thing one of my boys put underneath that car of yours! If you looked a little harder, you would seen the miniature bomb that will tell if today you die, or live, a little project we call 'The Prophet'."
I double checked just in case he wasn't bluffing, only to find out that this boy was an amazing liar. I had to admire his on-the-spot thinking as he held up his phone.
"One action of simple coding, can do wonders to destroy your past, can't it (Y/N)?"
I had had enough of this twerp. Revving my engine, I signaled that I was about to charge. Seeing the fear grow in his eyes only made me toy with him for longer as I slowly got closer, until I finally charged, and he had to jump to the side, leaving the stolen car to be demolished.
It was then that (Y/N) had awoken.
"What on Earth... WHAT'S GOING ON?!"
"Just making sure that this car will never be driven again!"
She watched, her face turning from one of confusion, to one of pure joy. A face that showed her satisfaction, glee, and pure hate toward out opponent.
"Is he in the car?"
That was the most sinister and scary sentence I have ever heard come out of her mouth. Perhaps she hit her head a little to hard... I'll make sure to examine her when we get back to the ship.
"Um, no, he got out and tried to threaten you, but when I charged him he jumped out of the way."
"Oh, to bad. I think you got him good though, nice work on the car."
We were now rolling back to our side of the arena, leaving a huge pile of dust and metal behind us. To be honest, I was rather proud of myself with the work I did.
"WOAH! THE BLACK MAMBA WAS CRUSHED! KNOCKOUT IS TRULY THE UNBEATABLE!"
"You know it." We both said in unison.
"You better take care of these scratches! And check my undercarriage, I think I have a few chunks of metal stuck, and you have no IDEA how uncomfortable that is!"
"Oh, shush, I need to get checked out first, my head still feels like I was hit by a semi!"
"I CAN HAVE THAT ARRANGED!"
"BY PRIMUS, I WILL OFFLINE YOU MYSELF! Just get to a hospital, or urgent care, or SOMETHING!"
"Naw," I made my voice less stressed, and more caring this time around, "I know enough to know about your biology, but only a minoot amount, just the basics really. I can at least see if you have a concussion."
"Don't you mean CON-cussion?"
"Now I know you aren't well. Hang on, we'll get to the 'Nemisis' in due time."
That was the best, yet the worst pun I have ever heard.
(Should I bring Tyson back after awhile? I find him to be a jerk and frankly think he should die. I don't quite know yet. Anywho, hope you like the chapter! Love ya'll!)