Eyes Of Vengeance

"Do you realize how much trouble you're in, Geoffrey?" Mr. Smith looked at his son in the rearview mirror and laughed lightly as he drove along the rather empty road on their way home from an event that lasted longer than they expected, drawing late into the night. He glanced at his wife, Mrs Smith, who was seated beside him as he teased their son.

"Trouble?" Geoffrey smiled, innocent mischief lighting up his handsome face. “Why? Winning the trivia contest? I am a genius, so it is not my fault, is it now?” He stated from the backseat while fiddling with the shiny gold badge he had won in a contest that night.

Mrs. Smith grinned broadly as she turned in the front seat of the car. "Oh, so your father's side of the brain runs? Since I'm rather certain that your attractive look is from mine.”

The family burst out laughing as the car navigated the winding, narrow mountain roads.

The cliff side was shadowed by the bright glare of their headlights as they blazed a trail through the night. The mood in the car was light and relaxed as their car sped along.

After a brief pause, Mrs. Smith adjusted her seatbelt and stated loudly, "Just so you know, genius, it's bedtime for you as soon as we get home."

“But it’s Friday!” Geoffrey whimpered, waving his badge like a trophy, catching the light.

"Exactly,” Mr Smith put in, with amused sparkles in his eyes. "You can sleep in tomorrow."

The cold night appeared less intimidating because of the warmth of their laughter. They were cocooned in their bubble of happiness, the world outside reduced to the rhythm of tires on asphalt and the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind.

Then it happened.

The screeching of tyres and the startling sound of an engine shattered the quiet atmosphere. It was deafening and strange in the stillness of the night.

“Tom, watch out!” Mrs. Smith let out a shriek as a huge truck appeared out of nowhere, its headlights blazing like scavenging eyes.

With terrifying accuracy, the truck swerved into their lane and came directly towards them. Their automobile skidded to the side when Mr. Smith gave the steering wheel a violent yank.

The continued sound of tires screeching cut through the confusion. As the car went out of control, Geoffrey's gold badge fell from his fingers and onto the floor of the car.

Metal crunched and groaned as the side of their car smacked into the guardrail, which bowed and splintered like a twig under the impact.

The world tipped as the car teetered on the edge of the precipice, half its weight hung over the abyss while the assaulting truck continued on its way as if nothing happened.

Mr. Smith and Geoffrey lost consciousness from the impact of the car crash while Mrs. Smith held her head tightly, feeling dizzy.

When she came to and saw the situation they were in, she panicked and started shaking her husband awake. “Tom!” Mrs. Smith’s voice trembled with dread, her hands grasping for her seatbelt.

Unconscious, Mr. Smith sagged over the steering wheel, his head lolling forward. A cut on his forehead dripped blood. Geoffrey sat motionless in the backseat, his little body lifeless and unresponsive.

Mrs. Smith looked at him and muttered, dread swelling in her throat, "No, no, no." She turned to face her husband, her hands quivering as she shook his shoulder. "Wake up, Tom! Please!”

The car tilted further over the edge and made a menacing creak. Awaiting their complete engulfment, the darkness below yawned like an unending mouth. Mrs. Smith reached back to shake Geoffrey again as she twisted in her chair. His eyes were closed and his face looked pallid. "Wake up, Geoffrey, darling!"

Tears poured down her cheeks, breaking her voice. "Please, baby!" Then she caught sight of him.

A silhouette approached from the darkness, his movements purposeful and eerily serene. He wore a hooded jacket that covered his face, and he was tall. Relief briefly filled her chest. "Help us!" she screamed, her voice brimming with urgency. "Please, my son and husband are unconscious! Please help us!”

The man remained silent. His boots crunched on the gravel-strewn road as he stepped closer. There was something about his presence that made her nerves tingle. “Please, sir!” she continued pleading, attempting to look him in the face.

The stranger came to a stop behind the car and he placed his gloved hands on the rear of the automobile and started pushing instead of providing help. The vehicle lurched forward, the sound of its frame grinded against the broken guardrail echoing in the night.

“No! Stop! What are you doing?” Mrs. Smith screamed, clawing at her seatbelt to free herself. Her heart pounded in her chest as the car tipped further, the hood dipping precariously into the void. The man’s strength was unnervingly accurate, his goal of pushing the car into the abyss along with the people inside clear.

Frantic, Mrs. Smith shifted her attention to Geoffrey. Her fingers grabbed his seatbelt clasp, fumbling in her desperation. “Hold on, baby,” she said, tears blinding her vision. She managed to free him and started shoving his pale body towards the door.

The car swung alarmingly, the chasm below appearing to beckon. Using every ounce of power, she tried to shove Geoffrey out of the opened door, but it proved difficult from her position in the front seat. Her right leg appeared to have been caught by a metal, so she couldn't move freely.

The man stopped pressing, his hooded head tilting as if examining her from outside.

"What are you doing?" Mrs Smith's voice broke as she sobbed. The man's quiet was icy. She gritted her teeth, her motherly instincts burning brighter than her dread. With determination, she opened the door to Geoffrey's right hand side.

Then, her shaking hands gripped Geoffrey's arm one more time as she reached for the unconscious boy. She exerted the force she could muster in full, groaning like her life depended on it.

Luckily, she was able to push him out of the car onto the road, his unconscious body making a thud sound as he landed on the cold ground.

The unknown man had resumed pushing the car forward when he saw her trying to rescue her son and this time, he took it very seriously.

"Danny! Please!”As the car's balance tilted precariously over the edge, Mrs Smith suddenly shouted a familiar name, her voice filled with sadness and rage as she screamed.

With a heavy and powerful push, the man finally succeeded in sending the car flying into the abyss.

His mother's agonized cry burned into Geoffrey's subconscious as the automobile roared as it fell into the abyss, the last sound he heard before the world became hazy. The figure of the man was a blur to Geoffrey's sight as he struggled to open his eyes to no avail, and his receding footsteps did not escape Geoffrey's memory.

The world dimmed to a haze of muffled sounds and hazy figures as he hit the ground, and pain blazed in his side. For a minute, the shadow of the cloaked figure hung over the shattered youngster.

Breathing heavily, Geoffrey's tiny chest rose and fell as he lay on the harsh, cold tarmac. The faint echo of his mother's voice, a haunting cry carried by the wind, reverberated in his head. "Please, Danny!"

As the darkness engulfed everything, the footfall became less audible.