Crashed Rider
Words by Ethan Huang // Published November 23rd, 2024
Somewhere in New Kowloon, a child crosses the road unattended. Despite the pleas of the civilians on the sidewalk, the boy walks staring at the ground, chasing a grasshopper leaping down the pavement. A sound blares in the distance. A trombone? No, a horn.
In a flash, the boy’s shadow paints the asphalt as a mass of metal driving 40 miles per hour flashes its beams across his face. And then a gust of wind surrounded the child.
Now laying in front of the sea of bystanders, the boy looked up. He saw a figure above him, wearing a black tracksuit with red padded armor stitched to the front and a tattered yellow scarf that draped behind him. The man rode a motorcycle: a cruiser painted in black with red bolts of lightning lining the sides. As it turned its head, the boy saw its face.
The lights of city reflected off the dark red helmet. It was shaped like a wolf, with large, golden lenses. He gave a thumbs up, asking, “Are you alright, young man?”
With his jaw dropped, the child silently nodded. The masked man gave the boy a salute, revved his bike, and drove into the distance, streaks of red trailing behind him.
****
In my restless nights, I wander the streets in search of purpose.
The darkness is broken as the city flashes around the masked man. A creation of science and sorcery, the vigilante bears his mutilations as a symbol of resolve to protect humanity, those who live like how he once did.
Ten years is a long time. Enough time for him to forget who he was. Today, he is just Le Loup: the lone protector of an ungrateful city. By now, does he still look human, or has he become a monster beyond mortal recognition? Who is to say? After all, he hasn’t taken this suit off since he woke up in that lab.
A high-pitched sound reaches his ears. As he drove, it grew louder, morphing into a shriek as he felt the heat on the side of his helmet.
Le Loup stood before the inferno. The five-story apartment building set ablaze. He heard the sounds of screaming souls within and wandered into the flame. The fire singed his scarf as he stalks the hallways. For a moment, he listened again, hearing faint voices upstairs.
Arriving at a door, he broke it down with a single punch, and he is met with the stares of a terrified man and his elderly mother. “Let me help,” he said.
From the eyes of the residents, a monster from below clad in red just arrived at their front door.
Le Loup walked forward reaching his hand out, but they only crouched back in fear. Dejected, the wolf turned his back, moving the fallen rumble and paving a path to their freedom.
Then he heard another voice. “HELP ME.” Two miles away.
Flying out from the second floor of the building, he landed on the ground with a crushing blow. He jumped on his bike before dashing off towards the slums.
****
In an alleyway, a woman stared down the barrel of a gun, as a man wearing one of those cheap rubber masks of the prime minister holds her at captive. “Hand it over. No one is coming.”
Wrong.
The red wolf stood in the alleyway.
“Who are y–!”
Before he could finish, the monster stood before him, crushing his hand as the gun fell to the ground. At that moment, the firearm fell, pulling the trigger and firing a single shot into the robber’s abdomen.
Le Loup stood grounded, his hands shaking as he watched the criminal bleed out. It always goes too far. The body began to convulse while the woman ran away. In that moment, he heard another sound, a ringing five miles away.
He stepped back and climbed onto the bike, riding towards the next scene.
****
That night, reporters from the New Kowloon Times began to lay out headlines for printing.
RED MONSTER SNAPS NECKS OF FIVE ROBBERS SAYS BANK STAFF
‘THE DEVIL SENT MY ABUSIVE HUSBAND TO HELL,’ SAYS LOCAL WOMAN
UNDERGROUND DRUG RING SHUT DOWN OVERNIGHT BY ‘WOLF MAN’
SEVEN VIGILANTE SIGHTINGS REPORTED ACROSS CITY WITHIN 15 MINUTES
****
In the heat of the moment, Le Loup continued his spree. Bystanders said there was a bolt of red that marked the streets, the smell of burnt rubber lingering in the air.
I have to be faster. I have to be stronger.
Murder. Assault. Bombing. Arson.
The needle on the speedometer fluctuated: 50… 63… 79… 87… 99…
I have to save them all.
And then it stopped.
****
Le Loup woke up tied to an upright gurney. He was chained to the bed in a pitch-black room.
Where… am I?
He began to see figures approach him. About ten men in white coats staggered towards him. Their faces were blank, or rather, the aspects of their faces were in all the wrong places. Teeth growing out of the sides of their cheeks. Eyes where their ears should be. Their mouth diagonally slanted across their forehead.
The scientists violently jolted towards their prisoner, grabbing hold of his suit. As they began to tear his armor off, Le Loup began to notice gray fur growing off of his exposed skin. He tried to scream, but there was nothing but dead air. The entities tried to violently tear off his helmet, and in the process, Le Loup felt the jagged teeth that grew out of his mouth and a warm red that ran down his face.
Finally, he heard a shriek from the back of his throat.
****
He opened his eyes and found himself lying on the street. His right arm was dislocated. A bone jutted out of his left leg. The bike’s metal parts were strewn around him with tire tracks leading up to right where he was sprawled across the ground.
One of his helmet’s lenses was shattered and he spotted his reflection in a nearby clothing store. As his eyes adjusted, he saw the eyes of a man and jet-black hair. As his nerves reawakened, the pain began to set in.
He smiled in his helmet, feeling his rectangular human teeth with his tongue before fading into a slumber.
✺ For Adrenaline, Issue 8
Ethan (he/him) is a progressive degree student graduating in Spring 2025. He is both an undergraduate student studying journalism as well as a graduate student pursuing a Master of Studies in Law. As a journalist with a love of film and the arts, his fiction is often a product of his influences both in reality and fantasy. He is also a longtime bass clarinetist.
You can find Ethan on Instagram and Twitter: @eytanps89
Artist Statement: “Crashed Rider" is an homage to the tokusatsu genre, riffing blatantly off of the iconic superhero(s) Kamen Rider (or "Masked Rider" in English). A core element of many of the earlier stories is this split in identity as both a human and a "monster." While he saves people, there is a bit of tragedy to his character in being rejected by them not too unlike Frankenstein's monster. I worked to portray some elements of this "monstrous" side as well, leaning into elements of horror with a section with some nightmarish imagery evoking the work of Masahiro Ito.
When it came to fitting this story into the theme of "Adrenaline," I tried to brainstorm my approach. I could lean into movies like "Mad Max," but I decided to pull from Martin Scorsese's "Bringing Out the Dead." While the film itself is not about high-speed chases or anything of the sort, the idea of an insomniac paramedic haunted by those he failed to save somehow fit within my story.
I wanted the adrenaline to come from a story of a man pushing himself beyond human limitations. The burden to save everyone is an impossible task, but he feels that with the power that he has, he is obligated to try. By its end, there is some relief, realizing that he is bound by his human constraints and that he can finally take a breath.
I can try to believe myself to be overly capable, but in the end, I'm to only take on what I am able to handle. To respect our limits is to respect our humanity, the rest is compensated by pure faith.
