It was a dark and stormy night, and the Volkswagen Golf sat abandoned on the side of the road. The rain was pouring down in sheets, making it impossible to see more than a few feet in front of you. But even through the rain, something about the car seemed off.
As you approached the Golf, a chill ran down your spine. The car looked like it had been there for years, rusted and worn, yet something about it still seemed to gleam in the darkness.
You reached out to touch the hood, and that's when you heard it - a faint whisper, like someone speaking from the depths of the car.
You recoiled in terror, but the whispering continued, growing louder and more insistent. You stepped back, looking around for anyone else who might be there, but the only thing you could see was the abandoned Golf.
Suddenly, the car's engine roared to life, revving with a demonic intensity.
The headlights flickered on, illuminating the road ahead, and you could see that the car was moving - not forward, not backward, but in circles, as if possessed by some malevolent force.
You tried to run, but it was as if the car was chasing you, its headlights following your every move, its engine screaming like a banshee. You stumbled and fell, and the car bore down on you, its wheels spinning madly in the mud.
But then, as suddenly as it had started, the car stopped. The engine fell silent, the headlights flickered out, and the Golf sat there, silent and still once again.
Trembling, you got to your feet and stumbled away, vowing never to return to that cursed Volkswagen Golf. But you couldn't shake the feeling that the car was still out there, waiting for its next victim to stumble upon it in the darkness.