Chaos Night - Gearhead Axe (U12)

"LET'S ROLL, BOYS! LET THE CHAOS COMMENCE!"

The roar of motorcycle engines heralded doom for anyone caught out in the street on Chaos Night, for the St. Washington Gearheads were on their way, trailing blood and fire in their wake.

"Ha haaaaaa! Suck on that one for a while, bitch!" cackled one of the burly masked bikers as he casually shot a passing driver in the face. "How's that, Carlos? You got something to look forward to!"

Carlos didn't respond. He had enough things on his mind at it was.

"Don't bother, Roger!" chided another biker. "The kid's barely keepin' up; he's not gonna have anything to say!"

Yes, keeping his bike under control was one thing. Finding a suitable target was another, as was the heavy axe in his hand, fashioned from a monkey wrench and a large gear. Then there was the thought of what would happen to him if he failed his test. Chaos Night was the only opportunity to do it, and he couldn't go back to his family-- if he went back on his promise to run away, there would be nothing holding them back, and he already had the scars to prove it.

He was also fairly certain that the Gearheads would not hesitate to kill him if he disappointed them here.

Carlos zeroed in on a pedestrian farther down the street: a man seemingly lost trying to find his way home. This would be Carlos's only chance to keep living. It was that man or him.

Revving his bike up, he pulled ahead of his fellow bikers, every pore on his body cascading sweat. A voice in his head was screaming at him to not continue, but he strained to keep the grip pushed forward as he raised his axe with his other hand-- at this moment, it felt like it weighed as much as the moon. The man, spotting Carlos, tried to run away, but Carlos was impossibly fast. Thirty meters, twenty meters, ten...

As Carlos passed the man, he clenched his eyes shut and swung the axe, praying for his aim to be true. The man's head was chopped clean off and flew several meters, rolling down the street as Carlos's fellow Gearheads cheered.

They drifted to a stop on the corner to survey the damage. Carlos got off his bike and fell to all fours, trying not to look at the body, his stomach heaving and his limbs barely holding him up.

"Well done, Carlos... Haven't seen such a clean chop from a recruit in years," said the head biker, standing over him and offering a hand. "Congratulations. Welcome to the Gearheads. Keep the axe-- you'll need it."

"... Thanks," said Carlos, taking the biker's hand and rising to join his new family.