Fury versus "Fury"

Finish

Now she was looking at the sky dotted with hundreds of stars. It's better than seeing that creepy face again. " - It looks like you've lost this race. That's all. Maybe I'm already dead? There on the highway. I fell asleep at the wheel and crashed into a rock. And now, one of the Devil's bastards is messing with my head." tears began to flow out of her eyes themselves, pinching the wounds. Breathing through the injured nose became increasingly difficult. The closer they got to the truck, the more clearly they could hear the annoying song. The Creeper left the body next to the truck and opened its doors. Pungent odors of mustiness and car oil permeated the clean air. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed white oblong bales tied with thick rope. Some are covered with dark red spots. Bodies, no other way. The license plate was right in front of her face. A light laugh came out of her mouth, and then another and another, until it turned into a hysterical cannonade. She seems to have understood the real decoding of the number:

BEATNGU - BE EATING YOU

"How witty! Which is worse - when you will be eaten for dinner or left for breakfast?" she said. Creeper got sick of it. " - It's better to strangle her right here." He was about to press down on a thin woman's neck when something distracted him. Extraneous noise. Barely noticeable at all. It was as if soda cans were being slowly smashed and glass was being methodically crushed. He looked towards the source of the sound. The car was still motionless in the ditch, but now it's not like that. The monster squinted. Well of course. The "V" mark on the radiator grille was now just like new, and the headlights looked like they had recently been removed from the conveyor. With a snarling grin, the monster abruptly looked straight into the girl's face. Her lips spread out in a grin, forcing the dried wounds to bleed again and again, the iris change color, and now began to emit an eerie glow. The "lights" slowly turned their attention to the eyes of the beast. "Okay. Show him." The Creeper looked back at the sedan again. There was a distinct feeling that he wasn't looking at Fury, but she was looking at him. All four headlights studied the opponent with a certain contempt. The tension was building. It seemed that even the atmosphere was so dense that it could be cut with a knife. Flash. The bright light flash of the headlights momentarily blinded the monster. The countdown has started. The odometer began to wind up miles back - in the bright 50s. The sounds of bending metal intensified, the creaking of glass too, and the buzzing of electricity. The body of the muscle car was straightened to the factory shape. Scratches and cracks quietly disappeared in the opposite direction. The windows were intact again. Except now, they've gone dark. So much so that it was impossible to see the interior. Creeper was looking to what was happening. She was recovering. The damn car was fixing itself! And finally, the last touch is the radio, which the monster so unscrupulously broke:

"Let's go to the hop
Let's go to the hop (oh baby)
Let's go to the hop (oh baby)
Let's go to the hop
Come on, let's go to the hop
Let's go"

She drove slowly onto the old asphalt. It was like a top model walking on the catwalk - even if she wasn't young for a long time, but she certainly wouldn't give all these scums a head start. The Creeper was ready to jump up at any moment and use his wings if necessary. After all, people repeatedly tried to kill him like that. Fools. The car did not immediately rush at the offender. That would be too easy. The distance between them was now just under eight feet. The headlights blinked strangely. It was a Morse code, which was deciphered into an incredibly simple phrase: "Get out." Such insolence clearly did not appeal to the monster and he bared his fangs again. The car made a kind of false start - someone or something pressed the gas pedal several times and "played" with the clutch. As if showing off her ferocious grin (of radiator grille) too. And finally, the hardtop showed the last warning sign already turning into an attack - the increasing hum of revolutions. With the screech like of a hysterical housewife, the car headed straight for the target. Now the monster was sure that she wanted to knock him down, bending his knees in tension, preparing to jump over the car. He was wrong. A sharp turn to the left - Fury was rushing straight at the Chevrolet. The loud bang of metal on metal was added to the roar of the engine. An impressive dent decorated the already ugly truck. The reptile's lips trembled reflexively, like those of dogs when they try to grin. Taking aim, he threw a dagger. It bounced off the back window of the sedan as if it were armored. Except that there was a tiny crack left, which instantly tightened. The red oldtimer backed up and continued what it had started. The body of the antediluvian car began to sway and at the last moment simply could not withstand another jolt from Plymouth. He slowly fell to one side with an even louder sound, and the bodies of the previous victims, mixed with other contents, fell out of the open van like cookies from an overturned jar on the floor. Smoke rose from the wreck: gray, acrid, thick. So much so that the Fury disappeared from the Creeper's field of view. " - Where are you, you bastard?! When I find you, I'll make a cup out of your skull, and I'll make your girlfriend drink from it!" a deep breath, and completely foreign smells filled the lungs, making it difficult to identify the vandal. Thurston Harris started playing and the ill-fated gleam of chrome appeared from the dissipating smoke screen. Again, it is as clean as it was then, from the moment it was released for sale.