Bloodshot : : Billdip

000

Tears streamed down her face as she choked out sobs, torn between wanting to hug her husband and pushing the vile sight away.

The woman's sobs pierced through the deadly silent car; tears streaming out of the woman's eyes, when she heard a noise on her right and her breath caught in her lungs and it was almost the world had stopped abruptly in that moment and she whipped her head around, eyes wide in fear as she saw a figure open up her side of the door with such a forceful manner, with strength greater than she would have expected. The woman shifted in her seat and winced in pain, her legs still crushed under the dashboard.

The ignorantly positive and assumptive nature of her thoughts filled her with hope that the emergency responders she had dialed for earlier had found them. However, as her eyes settled on the tall lanky figure standing outside her door, Diana's optimistic belief stumbled. The unfriendly looking stranger was clad in a color scheme of strictly yellow, black, and manually accentuated red. Covering a good portion of his lower face was an unpleasantly yellow colored bandanna patterned with black linings resembling a bricked pattern.

The unsettling feeling in her stomach grew as they both seemed to be studying each other; she to him with big startled eyes of hazel and him to her with a gaze of gold so emotionless she felt her blood run cold. Unconsciously, she moved her hand to clasp her husbands as a source of comfort, frightened as the stranger moved as well, shifting his arm in what could've been mistaken for a twitch.

Her eyes flickered down for a split moment, catching an object reflecting the gentle moonlight in his hands, and fear spread through her body faster than anything she's ever known before. She swallowed a fearful whimper, shaking softly, not exactly sure what the correct way was to react to the sight of the knife in his hand. The most reasonable part of her mind willed for her to remain calm, and try to figure out some sort of negotiation in her mind for the deadly prospect that could only be expected to come.

"Who are you?" she whispered, voice trembling in choked down fear as she forced herself to regain eye contact with the stranger.

As soon as the question left her mouth, everything was spun into motion. He lunged at her, his gloved hand forcefully clenching her wrist. Diana let out an unexpected guttural scream as he attempted to pull her out of the seat, pain shooting through her body as the dashboard sunk heavier onto her legs. Her free hand instinctively went to stop him, her fear turning into a wild panic.

She had one hand on her attacker's wrist, trying desperately to keep them away, and the other one gripping her husband's hand in frantic hope that he was still alive. Perhaps, deep down, she knew that both actions were in vain, but the burning fire of courage in her gut kept her from giving up. She dug her lilac colored nails into her attacker's flesh, still unable to move to due the dashboard currently on top of her lower body, and cried in pure agony as they used their knife wielding hand to jab their thumb into her suprasternal notch, dropping the knife on the dirt road.

Instantaneously, Diana's grip loosened and pain shot through the left half of her shoulder.

No longer was she fighting the attacker back, nor holding onto her husband's dead stiff hand, instead she sat there in the passenger seat and writhed in subtle pain as they continued to press harder, forcing her throat to close and suspend any oxygen from passing. She twisted in agony through gritted teeth and her head hit the back of the seat, trying to get further away, but to little avail.

"W-Why-" she choked out through short painful breaths, looking over to her attacker, the tears welling up in her eyes blurring any last chance of identification. "Why are you doing this?"