Say, fuck it, and drive on
From Create Your Own Story
Cold be damned. It's not your skin anyway.
You pulse the engine and hunch down behind the bike's windshield. You're a naked chick on a cycle and you're here to raise some hell. A little wind isn't going to stop you.
You get your first reaction from a truck in the oncoming lanes. A rusty Ford swerves and nearly hits the divider before vanishing into your wake. Heh. Your side of the highway is empty, but you're getting a steady supply of double takes from the drivers shooting past you on the other side of the highway. Two cars glance off each other as the disbelieving teen driver watches a fantasy roar into his rear view mirror.
Awesome.
The stares of other drivers warms your spirits, but does nothing for your nearly bloodless fingers. A father driving his family locks onto you as his wife and children stare open-mouthed. He knows he's going to catch hell, so he stares at you to make it worth it.
Two teenage girls gasp at you and nearly change lanes. A tow truck driver searches in vain for a gap in the divider so he can give chase... It's a beautiful thing. Chaos is its own reward.
And then you spot the Porsche.
It's one of the older ragtops but that's not what gets your attention-it's the driver. She's a redhead in shades, weaving through traffic like the furies of the abyss were after her. She slots into the shoulder nearest you and blasts down the narrow gap between the divider and the cars in the nearest lane.
She does this with one hand. Her left hand is busy - pointing right at you.
-and then's she's gone, her wheels churn the road's shoulder into a smoke trail that blots her car from your rear view.
That was odd.
You suddenly feel even colder. You risk a longer look behind you, fully expecting the redhead to have fallen in behind you, but there's nothing but empty road. You turn back and see a wall of lights and sirens hauling ass down the other side of he road.
Six police cruisers and not a one even looks in your direction. You're pondering that when a bug of some kind slams into your shoulder at around sixty miles per hour. It tears into your bare flesh like a bullet. The impact and pain nearly pitch you over, but you manage to catch yourself. You heel the bike into a desperate lane change and scream as the bike nearly wobbles onto its side.
As soon as you level out, you slow the bike and lie almost flat against the bike. Another hit like that... The lanes around you are empty. You die here and you're really done.
On the shoulder ahead of you, you see a young, bearded hitchhiker. He's holding a cardboard sign, but he's too stunned by the sight of you to hold it properly.
Before him, on the opposite side of the road, a left off-ramp offers you a quick way off this highway.
Do you:
| You are possessing: |
|---|
| Young, attractive nun |
