Descriptive Paragraph
Out of the mist, one hundred yards away, came a Mercedes-Benz. Chrome and shiny, dripping condensation onto the moist, soft ground. It was moving so fast, he was surprised he saw it at all. Suddenly it came to a screeching and skidding halt, sliding through the dense grass and shredding the wet mud as it shot it up into the air. The majestic vehicle pulled up along next to him, and stopped. At first, he didn’t know what to do, but the longer it stayed the clearer it was to him that he should get in. He gently slid into the passenger seat. It was a very luxurious vehicle indeed. Leather interior, pre-heated seats- (which he immediately turned off because it was near 100 degrees outside)- very angular. Very comfortable. He had almost no time to inspect the vehicle before it took off down the hill and started a long, continuous skid along the damp grass and mud. He immediately grabbed the warm, slick metal of the inside handle of the Mercedes. Outside the dim, tinted windows, he could see mud and grass flying and then, for a moment he saw the sky, then the ground then the sky, before he realized the vehicle had rolled and was in mid-air. He had barely any time to react as he heard the crunch of soft, aluminum mixed with his own shrill, shriek of terror. When everything but the croaking of frogs and the chirping of crickets had stopped, he opened his eyes. The luxury sports car was in a mangled pile of metal and carbon fiber, and he was laying against a rock, pinned by the door of the vehicle. He slowly started to realize that the creaking of metal hadn’t yet ceased, and that the vehicle that he thought was in front of him, was actually above him. He started a slow, mangled, gurgling scream that wasimmediately cut out by the weight of the car landing directly on top of him. His scream was only to be heard by the people controlling this entire madness they called “a sacrifice”