Detained

Chapter 3

Finally got the next chapter out! Go me! Enjoy!

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"Don't you dare force my hood open, you bag of flesh!!"

Dorothy froze mid swing and stared at the patrol car with wide eyes. Did the car just yell at her? The woman slowly brought down her mallet and looked around, searching for any signs of another person being in the garage with her. Sadly, there was no one else there but her and the car. She quickly looked back to the car to see that the headlights were on, but dim and the engine had started without anyone turning it on.

"What?" she asked, creasing her brows and glaring at the police car with confusion.

"Are you deaf?" the voice appeared again, sounding agitated and gravely. "I will not let a human break open my hood if it's the last thing I do!"

Dorothy had now full dropped the mallet to the floor and hearing the thud resonate throughout the empty garage. "Are you...are you speaking to me?" she asked, now even more confused at the fact that it sounded like the damaged car was actually talking to her. Was this one of her brother's pranks? The voice didn't sound like his, but with the kind of friends he has with work, she really couldn't be surprised at this point.

"Yes!" the car seemed to jerk as he shouted again. Dorothy instinctively moved backwards, thinking the apparently-possessed car was going to attack her. "Who else would I be talking to since you're the only one here!"

"Well you don't have to shout at me." the woman complained softly, holding up her hands in defeat as she walked back a bit. Reality didn't seem to hit her until about five seconds later when she realized that cars don't talk, nor turn on by themselves. She looked back at the car and reached forward to grab the mallet off the floor and hold it above her shoulder as a weapon in cause the talking car pulled anything. "How the heck are you talking?"

The car seemed to acknowledge that she picked the large hammer in her hands again and revved his engine and produced a staticy growl. "If you hit me with that hammer-"

"I asked you a question!" she yelled at "him". She guessed it was a "him". "Since you are my car and in my garage, kinda, I expect you to listen to me! Now, how are you talking?"

"'Your car'?" the police car growled. "I am not owned by anyone! Especially not to a bag of skin like you!"

"First of all, my skin is perfectly fine!" Dorothy started to rant at the car. "Yes, I may by a little pale for living in Arizona, but I really don't go outside that often. Second of all, the last time I checked, cars don't talk! So unless, you want me to put another dent in you, I suppose you start giving me some answers!"

"Oh please, go ahead and put me in pain and misery then!" the car shouted, sounding somewhat serious and fulling his tone full of sass. Dorothy held the mallet in its place as she walked closer to the already dented patrol car and gave a serious face before hoisting the large hammer up in the air and holding their as she witness the living car beneath her try to drive in reverse. "I was kidding! I was kidding! Don't actually put a dent in me!"

Loud metal clanks sounded throughout the warehouse as the car was trying to move back, but was being stopped by the metal grips that held him to the lift. Dorothy dropped her hammer on the floor, which made a thud against the cement ground underfoot, and made the car jerk forwards and stop moving. "What are you? I want an answer now, or I'll pick back up the hammer and-"

"I get it!" the car shouted at her. "I get it! Don't piss off the humans!"

"Answer!" Dorothy yelled about and slowly reaches down to pick up the hammer again.