Second story I published.

I know I should have finish 'Gifts Of The Blind' but I had to write this down.

This thing had been bugging me for quite some times.

Enjoy Reading And Review If You Feel Like It!

Chapter 1

There was the street racing tournament.

Racing from the crowded city to the cliff side, from crossing the cities to crossing the countries, from the mountain side to the lake side, it was a race that could cause fortune or more important, your own very life. The tournament always held at mid-summer nights, and the best racers of the city were there to place their bet.

There were different cars.

From tuners to luxury, from trucks to SUV, from exotics to muscles, each vehicle was very different from the others; each customized to be faster to beat the stronger opponents. It was not what the car was that mattered; it was what lies under the hood. Not fast enough then eat their dust.

There were different groups.

From the Terrible Terrors to the Hideous Zipplebacks, from the Deadly Nadders to the Monstrous Nightmare, each group had their own way of driving; each was dangerous than the other. Lone wolfs were racers without group, but equally dangerous. Some of the racers were champions and once champions.

There were the champions.

From the age of seventeen to thirty, from tuners to exotics, from Hideous Zipplebacks to Deadly Nadder, each group, different cars, different personalities, the champions and ex-champions were the one that ruled the streets, one beating the others, eating their dusts.

There were the lost.

Such a risky race that risk your money to your car, risking your status to your personality, risking your honor to your own very life, the tournament caused life and fortunes over the passed years, but the prize of the tournament was huge yet risky to get. Over the years since the tournament first formed, lots of racers lost their cash, their creations, their reputation, their character, their honor and more importantly, their soul.

There was a boy.

No older than seven, he was brought to the race to see his older brother raced the tournament, unknown to their parents. He always felt thrilled and excitements rushed through his veins when his brother hit the throttle with him inside the car, so he followed his brother's footsteps.

There was the mysterious driver.

On the final race of that particular tournament, where the vehicles were fully customized for high speed, where the drivers were trained to beat the others, where the drivers were champions and once champions, where the vehicles were naturally built for speed, a vehicle showed up out of nowhere. On that particular tournament, it was the first appearance on the street.

There was the spark.

That sparked the interest of the boy, who saw the vehicle's roars echoed through out the mountains with his large green curious eyes. The boy watched the vehicle shone its headlights towards the finalists, a sign on challenging them to a race. Laughing at how old the vehicle, they mocked but included him in the final race as a further insult.

There was the silence.

The whole mountains gone silence when the mysterious vehicle left after crossing the finishing line… more than an hour before the other racers spotted on the horizon.

There was a legend made.

For three years, the boy only attended to watch the final race of the tournament as the mysterious driver only showed up at finals. For three years, the mysterious driver came without showing his face, never placed any bets, and left after crossing the finishing line, leaving his prize. For those three years, no one had ever beaten the mysterious driver. His brother was among the best despite how young he was, but even he couldn't even match with the mysterious driver.

There was the name.

Everyone dubbed the mysterious vehicle as the 'White Charger' for the vehicle was a white 1969 Dodge Charger Daytona, an American front rims while using a large dragster wheels on the back. Instead of using wheelie bars, there were wheelie wheels on the back bumper. There were the exhausts on both sides of the vehicles, puking out green flames whenever the huge engine that sticking out from the hood roared.

There was a determination.

The little boy was determined, when he will be older he will modified a car that will surely defeat the mysterious White Charger. Hearing his determination – and stubbornness – his older brother will help him to fulfill his goal.

There was the goal.

The little boy's goal was to race with the legendary White Charger with his own modified car. Even at the very young age, his goal was huge and he will not back down from it. The little boy even said that even if it take twenty years to complete his car, he will race with the legendary White Charger and no one will stop him.

There was the mystery.

But after three years of his first appearance since that tournament, the White Charger suddenly, mysterious, went disappeared. He never showed up in any races ever again, the drivers went frustrated that they cannot beat the legendary driver, and the mountains were a lot quieter than usual without the mighty roars of the vehicle.

There were the idiots.

Weeks after the appearance, another white Dodge Charger Daytona arrived, claiming that he was the White Charger but everyone knew that he was not. Everything about his car was exactly like the White Charger but it lacked of the mighty roars. Another reason was because he was the fifth one to claim to be the White Charger.

There was the rumor.

Months after his disappearance, some people started to claim that he died long time ago, never got his chance to attend the final race. That was why his soul, along with his car was still roaming around the street, challenging people at the finals. They said he finally found his peace after beating the finals trice in a row and will never be showing up ever again.

But no matter what, Henry 'Hiccup' Haddock will still create and drive a perfect vehicle and race with the White Charger, if he ever showed up again.