The Grinding Machine

Joshua fumbled with his seat belt, his fingers trembling as panic surged through him like a tidal wave. Fear clutched at his heart, squeezing it tight with icy fingers. And then, as if on cue, the haunting melody of guitars pierced the air, setting the old man's heart ablaze with a frenzied rhythm, each strum sending shivers down his spine, propelling him deeper into the abyss of dread.

"Damn it," Joshua cursed under his breath, his voice trembling with raw fear. His mind raced as he envisioned the worst possible scenario unfolding before him. "They're going to slice through this car door like butter and end me," he muttered, his words barely audible over the pounding of his own heartbeat.

In the chaos of the moment, Joshua's hands fumbled desperately with the seat belt buckle, each tug met with stubborn resistance. His heart pounded in his ears as he realized with growing dread that something was terribly wrong. With a sinking feeling, he discovered a small piece of metal wedged into
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