Fearful Accident Unfolds.

Christy walked leisurely along the quiet and deserted road, her expression inscrutable, a blank canvas with an unwavering gaze that exuded resolve.

She strolled down the center of the road, the night air growing colder with each passing moment. Though the stillness enveloped the surroundings, faint murmurs reached her ears from afar.

Midnight approached, and the road remained desolate, with few vehicles traversing its path. The streetlights cast a gentle glow, illuminating her way and revealing the road ahead.

Despite the apparent emptiness, occasional figures passed by, but their numbers were scarce enough to be counted on one hand. Fortunately, none of them paid her any mind, silently continuing on their way. Even a drunken man stumbled past, yet her impassive countenance remained undisturbed.

Her elongated, slender legs, clad in loose pants, propelled her forward, their soft steps echoing against the tiled pavement. As she neared a T-junction, a realization dawned upon her—she needed to quicken her pace. She knew her companions would be concerned about her prolonged absence, the first time she would return home so late since awakening from her coma three months ago.

Home—a word that now carried a mocking undertone, serving as a cruel reminder of all she had lost. The home she once knew was no more, ruthlessly stolen by a scoundrel whom her father had placed his trust in.

Her father, Mr. Blue, had always been distrustful of his fellow humans. How and why he had suddenly chosen to trust the very scum who ultimately betrayed him was a mystery to Christy. It was the single mistake her father had made.

The thought sparked an intense surge of anger within her, rapidly intensifying. Her eyes, reminiscent of a fox's gaze, smoldered with a rage capable of piercing even the toughest facade. She clenched her jaw tightly, determined to contain the fiery tempest within.

Christy quickened her pace, approaching the T-junction. In the distance, she spotted an approaching car from the opposite direction. To her left, a large white truck idled, its headlights illuminating the road.

As the car drew nearer, its headlights obstructed her vision, casting a blinding radiance. She squinted her eyes and furrowed her brow, shielding her face instinctively from the luminous onslaught.

Expecting the car to pass by, Christy shifted to one side of the road, evading the risk of being struck by its high-speed trajectory.

Yet, what unfolded next caught her completely off guard. The unmistakable sound of metal colliding with metal reverberated through the air, preceding a screech that pierced her ears.

The brilliance emitted by the car's headlights made it arduous for Christy to discern the scene before her. However, the accompanying cacophony affirmed what she needed to know—a calamity had unfolded right in front of her eyes.

After a prolonged absence, fear's icy grip seized her mind, supplanting her anger with trepidation of the unknown. Stunned, her feet felt rooted to the ground.

An accident!

These two words reverberated within her, a resounding echo in her mind. But before she could gather her wits, the sound of a fleeing vehicle reached her ears, jolting her into action.

She hadn't witnessed the accident firsthand due to the blinding headlights obstructing her view, but the deafening crash had reached her ears, resonating from where she stood.

With her hand shielding her eyes from the glare, she sprinted toward the car opposite her. Mercifully, the headlights dimmed just before she drew near, allowing her to finally perceive the scene with clarity.

What met her gaze was a sight of devastation. The once sleek and flashy car now lay crushed, its body mangled on one side. The shattered windshield added to the grisly tableau, leaving little hope for the occupants within.

Scanning the surroundings, Christy noticed that the white truck had vanished, leaving her to wonder about the various possibilities that raced through her mind. Yet, this was not the time to dwell on such thoughts. She swiftly approached the back door of the wrecked car, determination etched on her face, and exerted her strength to pry it open. Fortunately, the door yielded easily, as if fate itself were lending her a helping hand.

As the door swung open, Christy leaned in and glimpsed two men, unconscious and slumped in their seats. Fear clenched her heart, but she pushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand. She had to act swiftly to save them.