TW: This story contains extreme violence and death. It is a horror story so please be advised before reading.

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Christine stumbled out into the middle of the street, her vision blurred by tears and panic. The night air was cold against her bruised skin, making her shiver uncontrollably. Her clothes, torn and dirty, clung to her battered body. Every breath she took was a painful reminder of the beating she had just endured.

"Please, please," she whispered to herself, her voice breaking as she glanced over her shoulder. The silhouette of Drake, her tormentor, loomed in the distance, his furious shouts echoing through the empty streets. She knew she had to keep moving.

A cab rounded the corner, its headlights piercing through the darkness. Without thinking, Christine ran into its path, waving her arms frantically. The cab screeched to a halt, and she threw herself against the passenger window, pounding on it with desperate fists.

"Please help! Please stop!" she screamed, her voice raw and choked with fear.

The driver, an older man with a weathered face and kind, albeit startled, eyes, quickly unlocked the doors. Christine yanked it open and collapsed into the seat, her body shaking violently.

"Go, go! He's coming!" she sobbed, barely coherent. She watched in horror as Drake climbed into his Volvo. ‘’ Fuck! Please hurry!’’ She pleaded desperately.

The cab driver didn't need to understand the details. The terror in her eyes told him everything he needed to know. He nodded, trying to maintain his composure despite his rising anxiety.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? Do you need to go to the hospital?" he asked, his voice steady but filled with genuine concern. He could see the bruises, the cuts, the sheer desperation in her eyes.

"No!" Christine gasped, clutching the seat as if it were a lifeline. "I just need to get away! Anywhere, just drive!" She ran a trembling hand through her tangled mess of chestnut curls. ‘’ Please, God, just drive! “She screeched, eyes wide with panic.

The driver glanced at her again, his heart pounding. He hit the gas, the engine roaring to life as they sped down the street. He kept checking the rearview mirror, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. He could see the car behind them, gaining speed.

"Go faster! Please!" Christine's voice was a high-pitched plea, her eyes wide with terror.

"I can't get pulled over, ma'am. I have to drive the speed limit," the driver replied, trying to remain calm. His own fear was now mixing with hers, creating a palpable tension in the air.

The sound of screeching tires filled the night as the car behind them caught up.

Christine barely had time to react before they were hit, the force of the impact sending the cab spinning. Metal crunched and glass shattered around them. Her head slammed against the window, sending a sharp, explosive pain through her temple.

She reached up to feel warm liquid oozing from a gash in her forehead. She turned, dazed, to see the driver. His body was twisted, pinned against the steering wheel. Blood poured from his mouth, his eyes wide with shock and agony. He tried to speak, but only gurgling sounds emerged, as the light in his kind eyes slowly dimmed.

"No, no, no," Christine whimpered, reaching out with a trembling hand, but it was too late. The driver's body went limp, his last breath rattling in his chest.

Her car door was suddenly yanked open, and Christine's head snapped around.

Drake stood there, his face a mask of rage and satisfaction. His eyes, dark and cold, bore into hers.

"I told you what would happen if you left me, Christine," he snarled,, his voice dripping with malice.

Christine's heart pounded in her chest, her mind racing for a way out. But as Drake‘s grip tightened around her throat, she knew her true escape would be only moments away. Completely broken and dead inside, Christine closed her eyes and gritted her teeth – bracing herself for the inevitable.