Lola and the Menacing Machine

chapter 8

On Friday, Harris paced his office, feeling the weight of a week's worth of strange cases and mounting frustration. It was just past noon, the day was overcast, the gray light casting long shadows across his desk, and he glanced at his watch. Lunch was approaching, but Harris was no closer to understanding the mess of a report in front of him. The whole thing left a bad taste in his mouth.

Harris had dealt with kids before, usually the kind who made trouble for the sake of trouble. Puff, the chubby kid with an unfortunate nickname, had rambled about a car "eating" his friend. That would be odd enough in itself, but this case wasn't even normal for their town; this place was quiet, safe, a bubble where the most scandalous crime was petty theft. That is, until now.

One detail nagged at him: the family who'd recently moved here was outrageously rich, like something out of a movie. Their brand-new, limited-edition car practically screamed opulence, a showpiece more than a necessity. Harris couldn't remember the last time he'd seen a car model like it here; it was sleek and intimidating, its dark metal reflecting almost no light, making it look more like a predator than a vehicle.

With a sigh, he called out, "Lunch break!" He rolled his shoulders and grabbed his coat, deciding he'd return later to examine the car in question. Spending his Friday evening looking at an inanimate object wasn't exactly his idea of a good time, but duty called.

Meanwhile, Lola Daniels sat curled up in the sprawling family room, watching the rain patter against the floor-to-ceiling windows. At just seven years old, she was a lively kid, often lost in her imaginative worlds, but her dreams of late were dark. The car's glossy black shape loomed over her thoughts. Sipping on her oversized mug of hot chocolate, she squirmed uncomfortably.

The family room, cozy and filled with plush furniture, was the type of space meant to comfort anyone, but for Lola, it felt oppressive that day. She tried to focus on the cartoon playing on the TV, but her eyes kept flicking towards the window. She swallowed hard, shifting closer to the warm light of the room, when something caught her attention outside.

Two men were approaching her sister's parked car. Lola's heart raced as she watched them skulk across the paved driveway, spray cans barely visible in their hands. The heavier one, dressed in a faded hoodie and ripped jeans, stood watch, looking left and right every few seconds, as if expecting someone to catch them. He had an anxious look about him, glancing around as if the house might come alive and yell at him. His partner was slimmer, dressed in a dark cap pulled low over his face, a leather jacket, and old sneakers. He seemed far more focused, immediately crouching low as he made his way to the driver's side.

Lola's hands shook as she set down her mug. She wanted to call her mom, but she remembered her mother had stepped out, leaving her in the care of the nanny and maids. If she screamed now, they'd rush in, maybe frighten the men away before she could even figure out what they were doing.

The slimmer guy, let's call him Vince, opened the car door and slipped inside, his movements quick and precise, as if he'd done this a thousand times. His heavier friend, Lenny, leaned closer, keeping his eyes on the driveway. As Lola squinted to get a better look, Vince started messing with something on the dashboard, most likely trying to hotwire the car. A low, throaty rev filled the air.

But then, something changed. The car's headlights flashed. The driver's door slammed shut, locking Vince inside, and suddenly, his muffled scream broke through the quiet. His body jerked as though he was being pulled by something unseen, thrashing against the restraints as the seats themselves seemed to swallow him up.

Lenny's eyes went wide. He slapped his palms against the car window, looking desperately for some way to get it open. He tried pulling the door handle to no avail, then took a wild look around, hoping no one had seen them. He grabbed a nearby rock and slammed it against the window. The car emitted a shrill honk, vibrating as if it was growling at him.

And then, in a swift, menacing move, the car reversed, swinging around so that its headlights were aimed directly at Lenny. He backed away, shaking, but the car revved its engine. Lola watched, horrified, as the car lurched forward. Lenny scrambled, tripping over his own feet in a wild attempt to get away, but he didn't stand a chance. The car followed, its speed increasing, its engine growling like an animal ready to pounce. Lola shut her eyes tight, not daring to watch as Lenny's frantic footsteps faded into the distance.

When she opened her eyes, the car was parked right outside her window, headlights dimmed, as if it had been watching her all along. She froze, barely daring to breathe, ducking low behind the curtains, heart hammering in her chest.