Volcan stones exploded under Tyler’s heel, the sound raucous and skull-rattling. The explosive roar was deafening, drowning out the chorus from the spectators watching from the levitating verandas above.

Up over thirty feet, narrow strips hung like slim, floating isles, measuring roughly a yard across. They stretched as far as the racetrack, casting dark shadows on the ground below like snakes lying in between the twelve running lanes.

The onlookers filled every space atop the verandas, squeezing and jostling against one another and shouting wildly in support of their favorite Torches – contenders sprinting along the readily combustible Volcan track.

The natural mineral ignited from just as little as the friction of their shoes against its surface. From a single spark, burst forth a roaring flame – a blazing beast that bore down nary a second behind the sprinters.

The young men ran like their lives depended on it – essentially, it was. There was nothing to protect them from the scorching talons, except for their protective boots. Yet since the fire sprang to their heights with ferocity, there was stopping the beast from strangling their necks and shoulders.

Watching them, the spectators were gripped with excitement and frenzy. They were seemingly sadistic, since they betted on their favorite Torches, heedless of their peril. They could care less that Tyler and the other young lads were racing for their lives. It only mattered how much dough would triple.

Tyler knew not, how many have staked their bets on him – he’d know only after the contest was over. Ideally, the higher their bets, the more his own, prize earnings would roll.

Ideally, he had to come out of the race alive, for that to happen.

The tanned youth sprinted across the sienna, Volcan grounds, heart galloping in frenzy. He was tempted to check his back for the fiery demon licking his heels. Yet he restrained himself, knowing to glance back in fear, was to surrender himself to the flames.

Flashes of glaring yellows singed the corners of his vision – a much dreaded situation. Because of his lack of speed, he had lagged behind eight –no, nine –other Torchers, which put him in position of sprinting neck to neck alongside the trails of fire they left in their wake.

His muscles pumped faster, body driven into maddening frenzy by the searing heat that threatened to lunge at him from both sides. Despite the arm’s length spacing between each lane, the Volcan track was highly flammable, and could burst into flame if heated long enough at such a close distance. It would be the end of the race for him, and perhaps his life, if his route before him erupted into hell.

Sandwiched between walls of fire, the heat swathed him like the belly of a volcano, vicious heat stinging his eyes despite the protective visor he wore.

Faster! He pushed himself.

Borne from his own heavy footfalls, hot flames clawed at his calf, thrusting forward with vicious energy, like a ravenous dragon hungry for his skin and bones.

Hurry – Faster!

He swallowed huge gulps of air like thirsting fish. His lungs went into overdrive, like air sacs of an aerial hovercraft when launched over its maximum propulsion limit.

Just a quarter more, and he’d reach sanctuary.

His eyes watered from the dry heat, eyes screaming.

Almost there!

Through his bleary gaze, he caught sight of a fiery spark that suddenly jumped in from the side lane.

Horror was not enough to describe the constricting of his chest.

The devious spark danced atop the track before him, and ignited his path, bearing to life an orange–yellow jagged demon from hell.