The car was rattling as if it was about to fall apart on the move. The headlights cut the darkness of the night street, and inside the cabin there was real chaos. Killer was in the driver's seat, and only one word was born in his head: "Who even thought of putting him behind the wheel?!"

He sat with a wide grin, one hand holding the steering wheel, the other already reaching for the radio, turning the volume to maximum. The music hit his ears, vibrations went through the seats. Dust, sitting next to him, grabbed the dashboard, his eyes were round.

"You're crazy, we're going to crash now!" — he croaked, but Killer only chuckled.

You were sitting in the back, pressed against the seat next to Horror. He looked absolutely calm, as if he was not driving a killer car, but watching some kind of circus performance. His huge palm rested casually on the back of the chair, and you nervously grabbed the seat belt.

“…Why him?” — you whispered, looking sideways at Horror with despair.

He turned his head slightly, his one eye glittering in the darkness. The corners of his lips twitched, as if he was holding back laughter.

“Because…” he said slowly, his voice sounding low and booming.

"More fun that way."

And as if confirming his words, Killer jerked the steering wheel sharply, and the car skidded to the side. Dust cursed so loudly that even the engine would have stalled from shame, and you involuntarily screamed, clutching Horror’s shoulder. He laughed hoarsely, hugging you with one arm, as if calming you down, but his gaze read: “I told you so.” And in front of you, Killer, with an absolutely crazy grin, stepped on the gas.

“Hold on, guys! We are the kings of the road tonight!”