storyLines

A story by Filipe

0 Seconds on the Clock
The light flashed red. He eased onto the throttle hitting 3000 rpm. Red again, a tiny push further on the pedal. Orange, he slammed the pedal to the floor. The cabin filled with the unmistakable scream of an internal combustion engine tuned to its limits. Green, he engaged first gear, the wheels spun for just a fraction of a second but the studs on the ice tyres then griped the ice as if it was tarmac and whilst hitting the rev limiter, he shot off the line. The brutal roar from the massive turbo charged and supercharged Lancia Delta S4 could be heard from kilometres away, the sound from the driver’s seat was like a petrol head’s 9th symphony.

2min 37sec on the Clock
The driver’s concentration was split between the co driver’s pace notes and the narrow and twisty ice corridor ahead. Corner after corner accurate blurts of speed and corner type filled the drivers head. Every corner the driver enters quickly shifting gears at a rate incomprehensible to an amateur driver. Every tap of every one of the three pedals is just as important as the last. Brake, Clutch, Shift, ACCELERATE, ACCELERATE. His unbreakable focus leaves no time to even consider the dangers of driving over thin, frozen ice lakes going at over 180 km/h with 550bhp at the base of his foot.

3min 41sec on the Clock
The frozen solid ice banks flew past as the Lancia forced itself along the thinning ice. 400, seven millimetre studs in each tyre made the ice seem like glue to the driver but for him to remain in control the ice had to be thick. When the ice thinned rocks below would grip the metal studs and rip them out of the tyres, providing a show of sparks seen at the base of each wheel. He flicked the car around every corner still feeling the grip of the specialized tyres on the ice, sometimes he wouldn’t even brake in corners, merely using the snow banks to bounce off and hurl around the tight and tricky corner. This was a very fast but dangerous technique, although his experience made it seem effortless.

5min 6sec on the Clock
The ice ahead was thin and muddy, a real problem for the driver. The teams had received information that the stage was covered in thick ice but a change in weather proved to be and issue. Previous cars going through had churned the dirt into the slowly melting ice and snow leaving exposed areas of rock and gravel. The driver pushed on following the next pace note. The co driver indicated that the next corner was long and fast. The driver prepared himself for a slide. He hit the corner with speed then with a sharp turn and a grab of the hand brake the car immediately was forced sideways. A rapid turn of the wheel in the opposite direction prevented any danger of over steer. The power slide was a quick but complicated technique that allowed the driver to maintain high speeds but have control through long slippery corners.

7min 58sec on the Clock
The rally of Sweden presented a stunning variety of extremes to the drivers, challenging stages, beautiful scenery and severe weather condition. These conditions then provide the amazing slippery ice stages that offered a whole new driving style for them to master. The driver began to feel the pressures of losing more and more of his precious ice studs to the warming condition that exposed spots of tarmac. His control on parts of the stage that was still iced over began to lessen and no longer did he have the traction required for high speed slides and insane attacks on corners. Being a rally driver, he pushed on unfazed only thinking about his time. A fraction of a second is what it takes to win a stage in the World Rally Championship.

9min 17sec on the Clock
There were only isolated patches of thin ice on a long strip of bare tarmac; a few 100 metres driving on this surface immediately destroyed the ice tyres on the Lancia. On the next corner the driver could feel he was losing control of the car. Rapid turns of the steering wheel and stabs on the throttle in a desperate attempt to straighten the car failed and with a tremendous crash the rear of the Lancia became imbedded in an ice bank. The co driver and driver quickly jumped out; one would think their rally was over… The right rear wheel and suspension system was ripped out due to the impact. Spectators at the finishing line where greeted with a tattered Lancia Delta S4 dragging its body along the now iceless tarmac, stage time 12 minutes and 56 seconds.

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Turbo Charged, Super charged, 550bhp, 410kw, 0-100km/h in 2.55 seconds on gravel. Known as the forest’s F1 car. World Rally Championship

 Phot Credit: RAC Rally Lancia originally uploaded to Flickr by estoril

a story by NickB

I pulled my jacket collar up against my neck to shield me from the wind as I hurried down the abandoned street. There were leaves and newspapers scattered through the streets by the oncoming storm. I quickened my pace as I glanced down at my watch: 5:30. My mum will kill me for being this late. I decided to take the shortcut, instead of walking around the park. The shortcut goes right past the cemetery.

I turned off the street into the shortcut alley when I saw a woman looking at me through a window. But this was no ordinary woman. She was wearing a yellowing wedding dress that looked decayed, as if she had worn it for years, her finger nails were long and hooked and she held a rotten bouquet of roses in them. But it was the ghastly face that frightened me, her skin was rotting away and had a dank, greenish tinge to it; and her eyes were nothing but sunken, hollow pits. I focused on her and saw deep in her sockets the squirming of maggots. I turned away and doubled over. With the bitter taste of bile in my mouth I turned back to the window to find that she was gone. I quickly continued down the alley.

I spent the time in silence praying that what I saw was just my imagination. As I was thinking I had the sudden urge deep down in my stomach to stop. I wondered why and looked up to see where I was, there in front of me were the large iron gates of the cemetery, looming down like the gates of hell itself. A sudden icy chill raced down my spine like the raking fingers of a skeleton, but when I turned I saw nothing. I shivered and turned again to see a long yellowing dress disappear around through the gates. I ran to them and looked inside: nothing. Maybe it was just a piece of newspaper blowing away. I turned again before a feeling of being watched stopped me. I glanced to my left and there she was.

The woman stood over six feet tall, her body was muscular, well defined and quite beautiful, but her face shattered the illusion of beauty. She raised her arm and beckoned me with one finger before gliding off further into the graveyard. It felt like she needed my help so I sprinted after her. As I descended deeper into the heart of the graveyard, I lost sight of her several times only shown where she was by a fleeting glimpse of her dress. As I ran, I started to get tired. The graveyard just went on forever.

Finally I lost her, there was no fleeting dress to guide me this time, I was all alone. I looked around and saw a beautiful marble staircase with healthy gardens on either side. I noticed there were a lot of trees around making visibility low. In the background I saw the statue of a man which served as a base for a glimmering fountain. That was when I noticed how thirsty I was. I slowly ascended the staircase, the strange light glimmering off the marble as if it had been recently shined. As I got closer and closer to the fountain, the quiet trickling of the water was increasing in volume, filling my head with an unbearable urge to drink.

The water had a slight tinge of pink in it and looked delicious. I cupped my hands and dipped them into the water. As I brought the water to my mouth I realised that it smelt of rotten, decaying roses and I threw it away immediately. From the water rose a plume of black dust, it turned into a swirling vortex and took on the form of the woman. She glared at me with her hollow eyes and I felt as if something was stabbing into my brain. The pain in my head was growing and then I heard her voice, but her mouth wasn’t moving it was in my head “Drink!” she commanded. “No” I screamed at her, again the voice commanded me “drink”. My body started to move, bending down to the water against my will.

My hands cupped themselves and filled with water, I raised my hands to my mouth and felt the control this woman had over me weaken as she was already infatuated with her own success. The loss of control gave me strength, I took the water and threw it into her eyes, it wouldn’t harm her but it gave me a chance. I made a dash for it. I turned just in time to see the oncoming tree and knocked myself out cold.

I awoke in my bed with the sound of my alarm buzzing in my ears. I was drenched in sweat and breathed a huge sigh of relief when I realised I was back in my bedroom. I grabbed the glass of water on my bedside table and had a long drink, the water tasted rotten. Suddenly my vision started to go a strange pinkish colour and I started to sit up against my will, with the last ounce of willpower in my body I sniffed the water: decayed roses.

The photo used with this story is from Flickr Creative Commons and is The Cemetery by alterallensteiner.

We are seeking one or more original illustrations to go with The Cemetery. Use the “Contribute to storyLines” link at the top left of the page or contact Mrs Thomson if you would like to submit one.