You flag down the car and the middle age woman agrees to take you to the hospital after you show her your wound. You try to keep your arm still, but each revolution of the tires hitting the pavement below jars shakes the entire vehicle.
The rearview and side mirrors reveal the headlights of a car following you, turn for turn, no matter how fast you travel. You look to your lap and see the pool of blood--your blood. You feel faint and the lights begin to blur together.
The car speeds to the hospital's emergency entrance, and the driver puts the car in park and jumps out in a panic and runs inside to get help. You struggle to open your door, tumble outside, and stagger to the hospital entrance.
Tires squeal as another car speeds into the lot. A car door slams. Headlights reflect off the glass, casting a wicked glare. You turn to see a figure dressed in black jogging toward you. Time slows down as you make your way to the doors, are grabbed from behind, and feel a sharp, searing pain as teeth sink deep into your neck. You fall to the pavement in a pool of your own blood.
