Conqueror of Daylight

Chapter 23: A Stalker

Jim, the ecstatic and newly sixteen-year-old, is now seen riding down the street with his helmet secure on his head as upbeat music played in the back. He was enjoying the fact that he could ride a Vespa. His blue eyes glanced at the speedometer before grinning. He was the Trollhunter; he was already risking everything, so why not give the Vespa a little action? It was a stupid idea, but who cares.

Jim sped up with a sly grin as he weaved through construction roadblocks. The quick fun was over as he drove over the bridge, and an eerie but quick shadow cascaded over him.

His grin turned to confusion as his hand covered his forehead, only to find a creature flying in front of the sun.

Jim: "What the..."

He mumbled before quickly swerving with a duck and a scream as the mysterious creature tried to pull him from the scooter.

He managed to drive off before fixing his mirror to get a better look at the winged creature and see if it still followed him.

Jim: "What the heck was that?!" Jim shouts as he twists Vespa's mirror, only to find Steve in the reflection.

The said annoyance pulled up beside him in a vehicle himself, and yet, he still had the ridiculous lisp.

Steve: "Nice wheels, understudy. I knew you wanted to be me, but this is pathetic!"

"This is not a good time right now, Steve," Jim mentions as his eyes lock on the sky, searching for the crazy dragon-like creature.

Steve's voice cut through the air, a mixture of curiosity and challenge. "Time for what?" He inquired.

Jim's response was a nonchalant dismissal, "Whatever! This, you!"

A spark of excitement ignited as Steve's retort echoed, the words flung out with daring intent. "Whoa! Are you calling me out? You want to race?"

The words were accompanied by an earnest shout, punctuated by a momentary waver as Steve wrestled with the bike's unwieldy nature, a subtle testament to his tenuous control.

Jim's rebuttal was swift and emphatic, a stark declaration of intent. "No! What I want is to have nothing to do with you!"

Engines roared as the duo sped down the street, a symphony of horsepower and asphalt beneath them. The rhythmic hum of the engine crescendoed as they surged ahead, a shadowy specter mirroring their progress.

Steve's brash confidence resurfaced, riding on the wind as he taunted, "You think you can take me, buttmunch?"

Yet, Jim's attention was diverted, his gaze drawn to the periphery, missing Steve's quick getaway. The parting words were succinct, carrying an unspoken challenge in their simplicity. "Bring it!" Steve called out.

Jim's response was laced with disinterested apathy, his voice betraying a lack of enthusiasm. "I don't want to bring anything!"

His eyes widened as he spotted the creature's ominous presence in the rearview mirror of the Vespa. A surge of fear raced through him, prompting an immediate acceleration as he left Steve trailing behind. Steve, however, quickly interpreted the situation as an impromptu challenge.

"Hey, get ready to eat my dust!" Steve's confident voice cut through the tension, his gap-toothed grin adding an extra layer of bravado. Skillfully, he maneuvered around Jim, his excitement for a potential race palpable.

Amid the unfolding drama, Steve's audacious decision to veer into the prohibited lane coincided with the appearance of an oncoming car. A chuckle escaped Steve's lips, almost as if he were relishing the daredevil move he was attempting.