Damn it, I panted as I bolted down the woodland path near my home. "What in the acctual f*ck is this?" Before I could swear again, I heard the sound of a tree being torn from the ground, and less than a second later, it shot out like a javelin with the absolute intention of turning me into a shish kebab. Luckily, I dove to the side, narrowly dodging my untimely death by mere centimetres. In my adrenaline-induced panic, I barely registered any pain. With the last of my strength, I sprinted away from the trees, crossing over to my apartment building. I quickly fished out my keys while simultaneously looking around for that crazy bastard. With a 'CLICK', the door opened. I quickly entered and locked the door behind me. My breathing was unsteady, and I could hear my heart beating thunderously in my ears. One second, two seconds, one minute. 5 minutes later, nothing had yet to happen. In that instant, all my strength bled out of me. I hit the wooden floorboard with a 'Thud' like a puppet whose strings were cut. Then pain exploded throughout my body. I hadn't noticed it before, but I was covered in cuts and bruises. Some shallow and mild, while others hurt like the time my mum beat me with a wooden chair, meaning it hurt like hell. I think I even fractured my ribs, seeing as I had difficulty breathing as each breath brought a new wave of pain.
Now you may be wondering how I got into this mess. Well, I'll tell you. It all started on a Friday afternoon. I had just left university to enjoy the weekend. On the way home, I stopped at Subway to get a foot-long sandwich and a Cola. Then, as I continued home, I decided to take the long way home through some woodlands. Halfway through, I heard a car engine. Looking back, I saw a truck speeding towards me. Luckily, I'd finished my snack, so I swiftly moved to the side behind a thick tree. However, the truck suddenly stopped, seemingly without any problem or accident, completely giving the middle finger to the laws of inertia. In that moment, the normally lively woodland became dead silent. And in that silence, the truck slowly but surely turned to face me. "The hell? Hey, watch where you are driving, you..." I couldn't finish my sentence as the truck revved up its engine. Every hair on my body suddenly stood to attention. Without looking back, I ran into the forest while zig-zaging through the trees. Unfortunately, for me, the truck agilely manoeuvred through the trees. Too panicked to be baffled, I continued running; luckily, the path ahead had densely packed trees, and this maniac wouldn't be able to follow me. At least that's what I thought, but as the saying goes, expectations are vastly different from reality. Suddenly I could hear mechanical sounds, as if metal were moving, folding and sliding over each other. Looking back, I was stunned into stupefied disbelief as the truck transformed into a bloody transformer. The tight knot of dread wheeled up in my throat. I didn't move until this Megatron look-alike punched a tree, causing it to fall over while sawdust swam in the air. And with that, the very tree attempted to scewwer me. That would be the first of many things thrown at me during the chase.
Now back in my apartment, every second stretched like an eternity. The silence pressed against my ears, but my instincts screamed that something wasn't right. My body hurt too much to keep moving, but my mind refused to shut up. That's when I heard it—a low hum from the kitchen. At first, I thought it was just the pipes groaning, or maybe the radiator deciding now was the perfect time to quit on me. But no. The sound was deeper, steadier. Mechanical. I dragged myself off the floor and staggered toward the kitchen, one hand clutching my ribs. The humming grew louder, vibrating through the tiles beneath my bare feet. And then, impossibly, the fridge door creaked open by itself. Cold air spilt out, but it wasn't the normal kind. This was… deliberate, like the hiss of a monster inhaling. The light inside flickered once, then steadied, and a voice—metallic, distorted, yet unmistakably smug—echoed from within.
"Finally… you acknowledge me, human."
I froze, blood running colder than the air pouring out. My fridge—my damn fridge—was talking.
"I am Fridge-sama," it declared with pride that rattled its shelves. "Best friend and eternal ally of Truck-kun. He hungers for your soul… but first, I shall deliver you to him."
My jaw dropped. "…What?"
Before I could make sense of it, the fridge lurched forward. Its cords snapped like whips, its heavy frame grinding across the tiles with unnatural speed. I barely had time to lift my arms before the steel door swung open like a fist and slammed into my chest. The impact knocked the breath from me, agony exploding through my ribs. My body lifted from the ground, weightless for a split second, before I was hurled backwards through the window. Glass shattered around me, cutting into my skin as I crashed outside into the dirt. I lay there gasping, staring up at the broken frame above. Blood trickled from the corner of my mouth. My vision swam, darkening at the edges. Every nerve screamed that this was it—that I was done. Through the ringing in my ears, I heard the thundering steps. The earth trembled. And then, framed by the ruined window, Fridge-sama stepped onto the ledge. Its light still glowed faintly, the smugness in its voice carrying down to me.
"Pathetic human," it said. "You couldn't even withstand my gentle push. Truck-kun will be most pleased."
But before it could leap down and finish the job, a shadow fell over it. The ground shook harder. From between the trees, Truck-kun emerged, towering and monstrous in its transformed state. Its engine growled low, like thunder caught in steel lungs.
Fridge-sama turned, voice suddenly trembling. "T-Truck-kun, my comrade, my brother in steel! I have weakened the target for you—"
The words cut off. With no hesitation, Truck-kun raised one massive fist of twisted chrome and brought it down. The blow connected with a sound like an avalanche crashing into metal. Fridge-sama exploded into pieces, its door spinning off into the night, milk cartons and shattered plastic raining onto the ground like a pitiful funeral offering. The light inside the fridge flickered once… then went dark. Truck-kun lowered its fist, silent, its glowing eyes fixed on me as I lay broken in the dirt. My body refused to move, my lungs struggled for air. And as darkness crept further into my vision, one final thought burned in my mind: This wasn't just a chase anymore. It was an execution.
Truck-kun's shadow loomed over me, stretching across the ground like a curtain of death. Every inch of my body screamed in pain, but the sheer pressure rolling off him froze me more than broken bones ever could. The headlights flared once, bathing me in white light so harsh it made my cuts sting. His engine rumbled low, not like a car anymore, but like something alive. Each vibration felt like it was shaking the marrow in my bones.
I coughed, tasting iron. "S-so… you killed your own buddy…" My voice cracked, pathetic, barely audible. "What kind of… loyalty is that?"
Truck-kun lowered his massive frame until the gleaming grille of his transformed face hovered above me. For a moment, I thought I saw it twist—metal plates bending into the faintest impression of a smile. Then a voice, deeper and heavier than Fridge-sama's, reverberated from his frame:
"Loyalty is irrelevant. Only the chase matters."
The words punched through my skull harder than any fist. My body quivered, instinct screaming at me to get up, to run, but my limbs refused to obey. I was nothing more than prey waiting for the final strike. The headlights dimmed. One massive metal hand rose, fingers curling into a fist big enough to crush me flat. It hovered there for a moment, almost… savouring it.
And then it came down.
The impact never reached me. For a single, fragile heartbeat, I thought maybe I'd been spared. That somehow fate had decided to cut me some slack after all the hell I'd just crawled through. But then the pain came. It wasn't slow. It wasn't merciful. It was a storm of metal and force that crushed the air from my lungs before I even had the chance to scream. Truck-kun's fist slammed into my body with the weight of a mountain. My ribs shattered like glass under a hammer. The world spun violently, my spine bending in ways nature never intended, and all I could taste was blood.
I think I did scream—once. A hoarse, broken sound that was drowned out instantly by the roar of the engine above me. The ground gave way beneath us, dirt exploding upward as I was driven half into the earth. My vision flickered, white sparks blotting out the world. Every nerve screamed, then dulled, then went quiet. My arms twitched uselessly at my sides, my fingers clawing at nothing. I wanted to fight back. To curse. To spit in the face of the metal bastard who had chased me down. But no words came. My jaw hung slack, blood dripping down my chin in a thin, pathetic stream.
Truck-kun didn't stop. He raised his fist again, and this time it came down slower, deliberately. Almost as if he wanted me to see it. To know it was over. I met the glow of his headlights one last time. They were bright, unfeeling, endless. The final blow landed. Bone crunched. Flesh tore. The world vanished in a rush of red and black. And then there was nothing.