Chapter 34: Wrong Turn
With only four days left of his vacation, Edward decided to truly relax and savor his freedom.
In the early morning, the sun gently cast its rays upon the earth, bathing everything in a golden glow.
Edward strode towards the wild-looking Fenrir heavy motorcycle, and the moment he straddled it, he felt the firm contact of the seat.
He twisted the throttle, and in an instant, the engine let out a low, beast-like roar that echoed through the quiet neighborhood, threatening to wake the entire still-sleeping area.
Under the sunlight, the black body of the motorcycle reflected a hard, dazzling sheen; every line exuded an unparalleled sense of power.
"Let's ride!" Edward shouted spiritedly, putting on his aviators, and the motorcycle shot forward like an unbridled mustang, instantly disappearing down the street.
The intense rush brought by the speed washed away all the tension and fatigue he had accumulated over the past few days like a wave.
The wind roared past his ears with a sharp whistle, and the scenery on both sides blurred into streaks; this feeling of unrestrained freedom made him truly experience the vitality and passion a young person should have.
He headed west, carrying an anticipation for the unknown journey, intending to experience a true American road trip.
(Of course, in real life, everyone must remember to wear a helmet; safety is always the first priority.)
However, good times are always short-lived, as the saying goes, "all good things must come to an end."
As he was enjoying his ride on the winding mountain roads of West Virginia, a long line of cars suddenly appeared ahead, instantly wiping the smile off his face.
That's right, it was a traffic jam, and judging by the dense vehicles and chaotic scene, it wouldn't clear up anytime soon.
"Damn it." Edward couldn't help but mutter under his breath. His gaze wandered around and quickly landed on an inconspicuous dirt road nearby.
At the entrance of the path, a crooked sign was stuck into the ground, prominently displaying "Road Closed - No Trespassing."
But upon closer inspection, although the road wasn't wide, it looked pretty smooth, and there didn't seem to be any major obstacles.
He thought for a moment; since he wasn't exactly an ordinary person, taking a shortcut shouldn't be a big problem.
So Edward, riding his Fenrir, slowly turned onto the path.
The motorcycle's tires crunched over dirt and fallen leaves, making a rustling sound, like a soundtrack for the quiet mountain forest.
Light filtered through the layers of branches and leaves, dappling the ground with patches of shadow.
The air was filled with the damp scent of pine and earth, mixed with the smell of decaying leaves, creating a unique sense of isolation.
Before long, a solitary, abandoned gas station appeared in his sight.
The gas station looked decrepit, with large patches of paint peeling off the walls, revealing the dull gray cinder blocks beneath, as if frozen in time decades ago.
The gas pumps were covered in rust, their analog displays long since faded.
An old man in faded overalls sat in a rocking chair by the door, casually holding a hunting rifle across his lap, his head gently swaying with the motion of the chair, half-dozing.
The Fenrir's engine sound shattered the silence, startling the dozing old man awake.
The old man slowly opened his rheumy eyes, and when he clearly saw the person in front of him, he was visibly stunned.
He had lived in these backwoods for most of his life, seen all sorts of folks passing through, but had never seen such a striking young man.
Edward's face looked like something out of a magazine; every feature was perfectly proportioned, without a single flaw.
A flicker of surprise crossed the old man's cloudy eyes, and his mouth opened slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but for a moment he seemed to forget what he wanted to express, merely staring at Edward.
Edward nodded to the old man in a friendly manner, then took off his sunglasses and began to look around.
His gaze finally fell on a yellowed, tattered map on the gas station wall. A winding path was marked in red on the map, its line like a vein extending into the unknown distance.
Looking at this familiar scene, this iconic rundown gas station, and the prominent red mark on the map... a classic horror film flashed through Edward's mind—Wrong Turn.
The corners of his mouth unconsciously turned upward, forming an amused smile.
It seemed that this originally planned ordinary road trip was destined to be anything but boring; a thrilling adventure might be about to begin.
Edward said no more, put his aviators back on, and, riding his Fenrir, sped off without hesitation toward the red-marked path on the map.
The old man in the rocking chair watched his receding figure, his lips moved as if he wanted to shout a warning, but in the end, he just sighed helplessly and slowly closed his eyes, as if resigned to what was about to happen.
The Fenrir demonstrated its excellent performance on the rugged mountain road, easily overcoming various obstacles as if they were nothing.
Its powerful engine propelled it deeper into the mountains.
Soon, at a sharp bend, Edward discovered car parts scattered all over the ground; they were strewn haphazardly across the road, as if after a violent collision.
Nearby, there was also a puddle of blood that hadn't completely dried yet, looking ominous under the dappled sunlight.
It seemed the plot had already begun. Clearly, someone had already met with misfortune.
Edward decisively stopped, and with a thought, instantly recalled the Fenrir to his system space.
He looked up at the dense canopy above; sunlight filtered through the gaps in the branches and leaves, forming golden rays.
With a light step, he shot silently skyward like a rocket, hovering steadily in mid-air.
The view from above was extremely wide, and he quickly pinpointed his target.
In the distance, two men and two women were frantically running toward the forest, their steps panicked and hurried, as if something terrifying was chasing them.
Their faces were etched with fear and desperation, their eyes revealing a deep dread of unknown danger, occasionally glancing back with expressions of pure terror, as if monsters were truly hot on their heels.
And not far behind them, a beat-up pickup truck was pursuing them erratically.
Standing in the truck bed were three tall, hideously deformed people. One brandished a jagged machete, its blade glinting coldly in the sun, as if ready to harvest lives at any moment; another bared his teeth in a grin, letting out a piercing, grotesque laugh that echoed through the silent forest, sending shivers down one's spine; and the third had only one eye, that eye glinting with cruel and bloodthirsty light, as if impatient for its prey.
Edward hovered silently in the air, calmly observing the life-and-death chase unfolding below.
He remembered the movie plot very clearly: among the four fleeing people, the leader should be Chris, the med student, who took this shortcut to get to a job interview.
The other three—Jessie, Carly, and Scott—were unlucky campers whose fun trip had turned into a nightmare.
"A truly classic opening," Edward mused, stroking his chin. Far from being nervous, he found himself somewhat entertained, like watching a movie play out in real time.
[+500 Power Stones = +1 Extra Chapter]
[+10 Reviews = +1 Extra Chapter]
If you enjoyed this chapter, leave a Review!
P*atreon/DarkFoxx (30+ advanced chapters)