Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-26695280-20150717204155

 Call me hipster but I collect vintage items, I have a wall of vinyls in my room, a gramophone from 1939, an old TV set with wood paneling I have a bunch of retro appliances, to put it simply my old 1955 LA home has “all original parts”. I brandish a fedora on my head and a mustache on my face and my wardrobe is out of Casablanca. However there is one item I have always wanted, an old car. I searched far and wide for 50s style sedans for years, hell it’s almost been a decade until recently. When tooling around on the internet for an old car I found something a bit off, someone was selling this old black ambulance for only $500. The article stated. “ALL ORGINAL 1963 BLACK VOLGA AMBULANCE No rust runs perfectly only has 28 miles on it FACTORY NEW.” The car looked perfect, the seller was only a few miles away from my house so on Saturday I went to check the Volga out. When I arrived at the seller’s house I was surprised to find a rather decrypted old garage that was barely able to be called a house, the rickety wooden door slowly crept open. The sound of rusty cogs grinding on an old rubber belt filled the air as the sleek black paint glimmered of the Volga in the sunny skies as it pulled out. A rather old Russian man who could barely speak English stood out of the car.” Eees only 500 hundred doulars please.” The man croaked. “There you go good sir”. I handed him a few 50s. “eehave nice dauy yeung man.” I walked over to the Volga. I clicked open the thin metal door and hoped inside. I started the engine with a deafening roar the car sprung to life. The only thing off was the sound and the smell. The engine sounded a bit off as if something was loose or stuck and the car smelt of old dingy leather almost yet slight different. I supposed because the car was over 50 years old that sort of thing was expected. As I drove back to my house the car felt like it was going to explode as the car continued to shake on the old thin frame the body rested on. I drove the car into my garage and stayed home binge watching TV. I went to my little old room and turned on the dim lamp and wrote in my journal.

 11/23/13

 The car is amazing, however doesn’t have the best mileage, I can’t wait to show my friends, since they are big car buffs.



 11/24/13

 My friends got a kick out of the Volga and we drove around LA for hours in it. When we got back to my place we had some beers and watched a few movies, however I couldn’t find my cat. I assumed he was outside sleeping since he never stayed indoors much and preferred to be alone

 11/27/13

 I still can’t find my cat, I put up some lost posters around town. When I was driving around in the Volga, the car started to sound like it was going to die and the horrible odor increased

 11/29/13

 The Volga started to smoke while I was on the highway, I pulled over to find the body of my cat which had covered the engine in blood, the chrome and crimson meshed like the blood was sprits on a chrome canvas of a Jackson Pollock painting.

 12/1/13

 I had to clean up the engine myself to not look like I murdered my cat. I sent the Volga to a body repair shop were one of my friends who is a mechanic works. Things didn’t get odd until night. I heard footsteps running whilst I was sleeping, this was around 2 AM, and then I heard a few doors slam. I thought someone might be trying to rob my house so I got out of bed and ran to the front door with a cricket bat that I kept under my bed. Nothing was there other than a dim streetlight illuminating a boxy silhouette; I grabbed some shoes and went to find that it was the Volga. The garage was open and the hood of the Volga had a big dent. At first I thought someone tried to steal my car, but why was all of the windows and doors untouched? With curiosity and fear I slowly inched open the hood, a crimson sticky substance oozed all over my hands, the engine was covered in it, and inside the engine were 3 things a note in Russian, a served hand and the head…the head of the Russian man who sold me the car. I slammed the hood in complete shock as I ran back in with the note. After a long time of washing the blood off my hands I started to figure out what has happened. I grabbed my laptop and went on to translate to find out what the note said. “I will mutilate everyone who buys this car; you have 48 hours to live, sincerely yours the person who will kill you.” I dropped the note still covered in blood.

 12/3/13

 I’m staying with my cousin who lives in Portland to avoid the person trying to kill me, at first he was reluctant to let me stay until I showed him the note.

 12/7/13

 After a few paranoid days of hiding from my death, my cousin forced me to go out with him to go grocery shopping. After a 45 minute drive that felt like an eternity because I kept looking out the windows of my cousin’s car to see if we were being followed. When we pulled up into the parking lot I saw a black car on the far end closest to the store about a few hundred feet away from our car. When we walked up to the store, I noticed that the car was my Volga. Again the car started to smoke. My cousin asked. “Is this the car?” after looking at the soviet deer etched into the GAZ logo. I stumbled with my words “yeah….that is it.” Just as we were turning away the hood popped open. I worryingly turned my head to see the mangled remains of my mechanic friend, with a note extruding out of his head. The note was written on an axe blade, and again in Russian. I yanked the blade out of my friend’s mangled mess of what once was a brain and ran back to my cousins’ car to keep it safe for later so he could translate it. When I turned around, the Volga had left, and my cousin must have already gotten into the store. <ac_metadata title="The Black Volga (unreviewed)"> </ac_metadata>