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The roar of the crowd fills my ears as I approach the finish line, my car slicing through the wind as I step on the turbo. Another car comes up beside me, black as night. It had an evil aura about it. Sweat breaking out on my brow I try and pull ahead unsuccessfully. I try and shake of the looming fear encasing my mind. The fear of more than just loosing the great race sticks to me like leeches, sucking out my will to win. Suddenly I feel my racer’s left turbine shake. The strain on it was too much. If I shut it off now I will loose, but my life will be spared. As I reach for the switch I stop, I know what I must do. I pull my hand back and focus on the track. The finish line approaches rapidly as the strain increases the closer I get. The black racer is still next to me gliding along with ease. I grit my teeth as it bumps into me trying to knock me off the track. I step down hard on the acceleration pulling ahead just in time to win the race, but at a terrible cost. As I braked while crossing over the finish line I feel my left turbo give way and implode upon itself. My racer explodes throwing me out of it and onto the grass beside the track. I hear the cheering stop and people start to yell for the medics. I knew it was to late, my only wish was for them to cheer in my final moments, cheer that I had won. As I closed my eyes I heard only the sirens of the ambulances. I closed my eyes for one last time, I had won.