Rex

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Feb 1, 2010
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portland
this story is not my own. it was written by a friend of mine.

A Nasty Tail of Vehicles
by SwampRat (5/27/00)

Be careful what you steal.

He looked at the car sitting by itself in the poor light. It was too good! He spent a few minutes watching the car and the area around it. It had to be a trap... but no cop ever took him, and none ever would. He sidled up to the monster that would bring him quite a few pesos. The keys swung from the ignition, a row of small chrome skulls shining from the chain in the key. He picked the lock in moments, gouging the paint when his hand slipped.

"Damn!" He muttered forcing his hand steady. It was a small scratch and had just gone to the primer... red primer at that. But, he had the door open - and it as he slipped in, it shut shoving him in awkwardly. "What th' Hell?!?" He stopped still for a moment, ready to kick out a window and run if need be, but nothing happened.

Sitting up he gripped the key and started the machine. It sounded as nasty as it looked. Like it could eat anything in front if it! Laughing, he slammed it into gear and peeled out, quickly hitting the freeway and disappearing into the underbrush of the concrete jungle. "You are so sweet!" he exclaimed, caressing the dashboard, as it took another turn with enough force to push him against the shifter. Then back he turned, with nary a creak. He stopped at a secluded place to make a phonecall - and to take a piss. As he stood with his fly open and listening to the cell-phone crackle, he could swear someone was watching him. But he knew there was nobody but him and the car.

He turned to look at it, and cursed as he urinated on his shoe, the surprise causing him to drop the phone. Finishing, he shook his meat and stuffed it back in his pants, pausing only long enough to zip up. Then he kicked at the fallen phone.

"Cheap piece of shit! Last time I buy a Hot Talker from Fat Freddy." He still felt eyes on him as he got back in the car, pushing the lighter in, and getting a cig.

"No Smoking" he heard someone say. "What the...?" The radio had come on suddenly. "Smoking is bad for your health." A damn commercial.

"Yeah, fuck you too." He reached for the lighter, but it flew out of its holder and started burning his side.

"Yaa!" he screamed, grabbing at the red-hot metal cylinder. It scorched his fingers and he dropped it again - right into his crotch. He jerked around, as his intimate parts heated up, leather pants smoldering, crotch hair giving off that sickly 'burned' scent.

He tore at his belt, ignoring the ripped fingernails as he got his pants opened and down to his ankles. Panting heavily, he sat there for a moment, not believing what had just happened. he pushed on the door to open it so that he could get his pants off and see what damage had been done... but it was stuck.

"Damn piece of shit! What's the fu..."

Suddenly, the seat reclined fully as the backbelts flew forward, locking him down. He struggled like a madman. From the crackling radio came an ugly sounding laugh.

"I told you smoking was Bad for your Health." In the darkness he could see something moving out of the corner of his eye. It was the lighter!

"You should not have scratched me." He froze as what he heard sank in.

Then yelled and jerked against his restraints as the red-hot coil pressed against his right thigh, branding it deeply. "Aaaaaa! Shit!" He strained against the belts that held him, cursing, pleasing, swearing. Then lay still and silent as it rolled along his penis, falling to the floor. The seat jerked back upright and... nothing. The belt came undone like it should have earlier. The lighter was cool, smelling faintly of burnt skin. What the Hell? He hadn't done any hallucinogens since rolling that old lady. Shit, he had to get out and clear his head. He opened the door, grabbing his pants to pull them up - and felt the seatbelt smack his ass hard enough to leave a long red stripe across his cheeks!

He half-fell, half-tripped out of the car, landing on his face. The door slammed shut and the car started. It sounded ominous, frightening...and hungry. He heard something clank on the asphalt, and looked behind him - laying a few feet away was the drive shaft. It gleamed, dark and menacing, like a mechanical stallion, wanting to find someone to impale. It couldn't. It wouldn't. This had to be a nightmare. The car took off, tires squealing, to circle around him, showing its maleness off, each time getting just a little closer.

He tried to get up. To run. But he tripped on his pants again and went down. Before he could try again, he was covered by the monster. Screeching and holding his head, the thief lay whimpering.

Then he felt it - the jabbing, the pushing. He screamed and jerked up, burning his shoulders on the exhaust pipes as a thick rod of steel forced his cheeks apart and shoved into his ass. Again and again the engine gunned, the wheels rolled back and forth, pushing in and out of the quivering human flesh for what seemed like an eternity. Then it stopped and slowly pulled out of him. He just lay, not daring to move. With a snort of disgust, the car took off, leaving the man there.

He slowly got to his knees, and then stood. Despite the pain, he laughed. "I won! You piece of shit, I won! I am still alive, and when I find you, I am going to fill your fucking engine so full of bullet holes you will..."

He fumbled out a cigarette, patting himself down for a lighter. "Smoking is Bad for you." He froze. Then turned, and saw the car, sitting not 20 feet away. The grill seemed almost to smile at him, the engine growling deep and low. Smoking the tires, it came flying towards him and he screamed as the impact shoved him up the hood. Rolling him along until he hit the super-heated blower. Butterfly valves snapped open, the vacuum sucking his scrotum into the middle hole. But, they were too big to fit, so as he screamed and thrashed around, they were squeezed against the metal until one moved. And was sucked inside, the other quickly following.

Then the engine quieted, the round valve coming down to caress the skin. Before snapping shut, castrating him. The engine roared to life again, sucking out what was left, and then jerked, rolling the broken, burned body off its hood. The thief lay on the ground, shock making everything hazy. It must be shock, else why would a chrome grill look like jagged teeth? And why would they open like a hungry mouth?

Sounds of crunching and gulping didn't last that long. He wasn't a big man.

The street wasn't well-lit. All the better to steel cars and mug people that way. But even in the darkness this car stood out - It was sinister and mean. It looked like it could chew up anything... especially with those red splotches that looked like blood on the front bumper. A pair of eyes looked it over, grinning. The keys in the ignition, and the door wouldn't take anything to open. And just look at all those chrome skulls on the keychain.
 
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