Chap 1

He climbed onto the seat, sixty four steel horses beneath him. He then pulled the black, plastic lever that engaged the choke, and thrust himself down onto the kickstarter. Jim felt the motor moan and churn, then… nothing.

Jim again kicked the steel lever toward the ground, feeling the heap of metal whine. He deactivated the clutch and pulled the throttle. Staring into the eyes of the Grim Reaper, he kicked again. The bike screamed to life, and dropped down as he let the throttle go.

“There we go!” Jim yelled to Butch, his fellow Reaper Rider. “Peace of shit.”
" Its about goddamn time!, I didnt think that shit pile was ever gonna get goin’" Butch yelled back.
“Aww fuck off” Jim said.

Butch choked his 50th Anniversery Harly, He flipped Jim off with a nubbed finger as the bike fired to life like screaming thunder. The chrome exhaust vibrating, underneath Butch, leaving an off and on glare in Jim’s eyes. Everytime the pistons fired, Jim thought about the beating heart of the Harley.

Butch gripped his bike tightly between his hands and pulled the bike onto its wheels. He dropped it into gear, threw the clutch out, and left dust and gravel flying between Jim and the already shrinking image of the Harley.

Jim thought to him self, “heh… fucking douche…” and dropped his bike into gear. It made a deep metallic clanking sound as the gears collided. He pulled the clutch, and gripped the throttle forcing the bike the pump more blood into its metallic heart. He dropped the clutch and the wheel instantly began spinning, throwing the back of the bike in and out. He pulled out and looked at the bar with a warlike scene of dirt and tar floating in the air.

He accelerated down the stretch of highway, watching the face of the Grim Reaper getting closer and closer. Six thousand, Seven Thousand, Eight Thousad. He threw his bike up the gears, going through this same pattern.

Butch looked into the bright mirror. He saw the shining metallic shape coming closer. He listened to the roar of the motor as it grew quicker. Listening to an approaching chopper always reminded him of the growl of a tiger.

Butch accelorated and looked into his mirror again, and saw noone. He looked to his side, and saw Jim Riding by, flipping him off the whole time. He watched as Jim forced the shining shillouette on two wheels consume the road ahead of him.

Butch looked ahead and saw a sharp left turn with large foliage. He decided that if he was going to make his move, it would have to be here. He dropped his bike into fourth and opened the throttle as wide as it would allow, he shifted up and before he knew it his front wheel was lined up with Jim’s.

Jim heard the engine scream behind him. He could almost feel the motor pounding into the back of his head. He turned his eyes just enough to look into his left mirror, and saw Butch’s red harley coming closer. Suddenly Jim jerked his bike and nearly avoided the large metal monster with a grill larger than him veer around the curve.

Butch slammed on his brakes. His life flashed before his eyes. He could see the image of his mother crying over her lost love, and failed son. He saw her hold the knife to her throat, screaming for her son to get away from her. He saw the blood. There was a sharp pain going through his hands, then it crawled up his wrists, into his forarms, over his shoulders, and up and down his body. He herd a hard ringing sound as the pain went to his head, and as it hit the ground, Butch was dead.

Jim heard the sharp sound of broken glass and torn steel breaking through the air. He slammed on his brakes and could feel the rubber peel onto the highway. The bike swung around and fell. Jim hit the ground and broke his elbow. He then started walking to the twisted look of bloody glass and metal. He noticed that blood wasnt the only thing on the ground, it was gas, which cought flame right in front of him.

He stepped around the fire that whipped as if laughing at him. He walked over to the wreckage. The trucker was in the cab, unconcious. He looked around and realized he couldnt see Butch. He did, however, notice a torn, bloody jacket laying on the ground. He picked it up, and turned it over. There showed a black Grim Reaper, against a purple flame backround. He started crying as he store into the eyes of the Grim Reaper.