Devil Went Down to Jersey

“What the ffff-!!!” Was all you could muster, with little attention to your words, and total focus on controlling a car absent of traction.
>Thoughts were expelled and instinct took over, as you do all in your power to contain two tons of accelerated disaster from sending you to your Maker.
>From break to accelerator, you ease on the gas and immediately eye for an open area by your lane.
>Which would’ve been easy if it wasn’t the middle of the night!
>With only half a second to make a decision, you impulsively make a sharp wide turn that worked far from your favor.
>Momentum carried your screeching vehicle off the road and onto the forest that it sliced through.
>You prepared for impact as you threw both hands on the wheel and slammed on the breaks once more.
>Squealing rubber and flinging dust was the only sound that filled the horrendous Monday night air, as you opted to your last line of defense and closed your eyes as you braced for a total wreak.
>Coming to an abrupt stop, the sudden change of forces pulled you out of your seat, and immediately slammed you back into the driver chair.
>Releasing fast and panicked breaths, you crane your strained neck to look up at the situation.
>Within your field of view, all to be seen was an outside area blanked with hovering dust, a completely dismantled hood, and the one working headlight reflecting a red oak inches away from giving your ride a proper demolished makeover.
“Ho-ho-holy shit…” You wheeze as you unfasten your seatbelt and jumped out the vehicle to assess the damage.
>Gradually making your way to the front, and inadvertently realizing you were fortunate to leave your seat with only a pulled neck, you witness that your car was not as fortunate.
“Mmmm!” You toss your hands to your head, and forced all your rage into your lungs till they couldn’t restrain the venting pressure. “Fuck-fuck-fuck! I didn’t even have this shit for two damn days!” You curse to the smashed 2017 white Stingray.
>This is what you get for trying to tune in to a Jets game.
>A current 2 and 6 goddamn Jets!
“Fucking Christ!” You spit as you try to open a wedged hood to see what internal destruction was done.
>What the hell could’ve it been?
>Way too large to be a dog or deer, but what the hell would be out here in the middle of Burlington County?
>Whatever it was, you hope it’s long dead after doing this to your-
“What was that?!” You told yourself as heard a sharp wisp of wind blow overhead.
>On a night that hasn’t provided a single breeze.
>You quickly gaze up at the tree tops, but see nothing other than the dancing leaves effected from the strange gust.
“Ugh, whatever.” You blurt at the forest and turn back to your engine that starts to hum.
>Turning to your left you spot a thick fallen branch and grabbed what you’d hope to help pop this destroyed hood open.
>Picking up the stubby stem, you shove the makeshift crowbar into an open crevice and used every ounce of muscle to pry the crushed hood off.
>With a last spurt of adrenaline, you disjoin the hood ajar and caught a better glance of your practically unscathed V-8.
>Your eyes shoot wide open in an uncanny mix of shock and glee, but soon fall back to suspicions as the growls start to increase again.
>Wait a minute…that’s not the motor.
>The hairs on your neck instantaneously leap as the growls amplify.
>Coming to terms with this fact elects you to steadily turn to the tree behind you, and catch a glimpse of two yellow glowing orbs in the tree tops.
>Within a blink of an eye your back was flat on the dirt, and your instincts already kicked into fight mode.
>It didn’t matter.
>For what had you pinned to the New Jersey soil was a creature without rhyme or reason.
>Staring deep into your peepers with a pair of its own silted irises, the beast encompassing your view bares its ravenous saliva drenched fangs at you.
>Short breaths were all you could retaliate with, as you started to shake your body wildly to free yourself from the dreadful claws of this unnatural predator.
>A piercing hiss escapes its maw, and compels to stop and surrender to the beast’s monstrous lingo.
>Your mouth begins to quiver as you’re at the mercy of the horned demon that painstakingly licks its organic daggers and slowly opens its jaws to take a fatal bite out of you.
>You wince and yanked your head away from the creatures sweltering breath, as you close your eyes to prepare for your very last breaths.
>All that filled your ears were the pants of a hungry monster, your pulsing heart rate that thumps in your head, and that blasted radio that got you into this predicament in the first place.
>“Bridgewater looks left, and then right firing to the sidelines to an open Terrell Pryor bringing it in and getting shoved out of bounds at the New England 4 yard line, setting up a 3rd and goal!” The local sports commentator states as the humid gasps seamlessly dissipate from your cheek.
>“What!!!” The creature yells in a traumatized feminine voice.
>Your eyeballs were millimeters away from leaving their sockets.
>The brute’s entire focus has migrated towards you Chevrolet.
>“Talk about threading the needle on that last play! The Patriots elect to use their second time out to talk this one over, as we have reached :49 seconds left in the 4th with New England leading 20-14.” Your radio plays as the beast takes a leap towards your open door.
>“Oh fuckin’ hell! Don’t fuck this one up, you sons of bitches!” She spits as she plops on her behind and sits like a common dog.
>Your jaw was now dislocated.
>“The Jets line up in a Shotgun, Powell motioning to his right leaving an empty backfield. Here’s the snap.”
>“My Gawd Teddy, do not…” The quadruped rises off its hind legs and leans on the Corvette to get a better listen to the radio.
“Di..did you ju-”
>“Quiet, yah mook! Can’t you see I’m tryin’ to listen!” She rudely yells at you, pressuring your mouth shut.
>As she bends closer inside the vehicle, you too begin to incline forward and scrutinize the strange but intelligent monstrosity.
>From what you could tell, this being was forged from different species throughout the animal kingdom.
>The hind legs from what you could tell were cloven like that of a goat, but as you trail up the rest of the myth, features become senseless.
>It’s forearms were borrowed from that of a top carnivore, housing two impressive and imposing claws.
>On its back are two folded webbed wings that you would only associate a bat with, and you know damn well there are no bats with that kind of a wingspan.
>Not to mention a long tail associated with something deep within the fires of hell.
>The final pieces of the constructed freak of biology was a spiked back mane attached to its head and dark brown coat belonging to that of an equine.
>No
>Way
>…is this the Jeresy-
>“Here’s the snap Bridgewater to throw, the pockets collapsing-”
>“Eey, get rid of it, yah idiot!” She gasps towards the speakers.
>“Bridgewater runs right, Flowers on his tail. He looks to throw and is hauled down by Marquis Flowers for a loss of 8, Jets are facing a 4th and goal with :40 left in this game.”
>“Teddy you fuckin’ douchebag! Timeout! Timeout!” She leaps numerous times ten feet in the air without a single assist of her wings.
>“That’s the Jets third and final timeout with 12 seconds left in this one. Well folks if you were eager for a heart stopper stay in tune.”
>The beast lowers her head in shame as commercials start to flood your cars system.
>“How?!” She throw her claws up in the air, then turns to you for some sort of answer. “How?!” Is all she can muster towards you as you nervously shrug to her demanding question.
>As she apprehensively turns back to listen to the final moments of the game, you caught the last details of this once legend turned into reality.
>The face was definitely equine in shape, but the features were more multifarious than that of the ordinary horse.
>With two uneven fangs protruding from her mussel, yellow devilish eyes that housed serpent irises, and two horns of the Devil himself, the picture has been fully painted on this bizarre monster.
>And your final thoughts on it were…she actually looks kind of harmless.
>…If you took away the claws, teeth, horns, and hostile attitude.
>“Here it is, your final play of this Monday night divisional match!”
>“Shoooosh!!” She directs to your entirely silent form, diving back into the driver’s seat and gnawing on her nails. “Oh come on boys! Fuck those Patsies!”
>“Here it is, your Jets are lining up in a single back formation. Here's the snap!”
>“Oh Fuck! Fuck!” She yells in trepidation.
>And not a moment too soon, your attention was all ears on the game as well.
>“Teddy goes for a quick release into the corner of the endzone annnnnnd!”
>“OH FUCK!” You both shout in unison.
>“And it sails out of bounds and straight to the head of the endzone camera man. New England will regain possession on downs, and that all about wraps this one up, folks. The woes continue as your Jets still search for that third win.”
>“….ugh” You both sigh in unison, but the mythological beast continues to vent her frustrations. “God…dammit, Ernie won’t let me hear the end of this one. Dammit…God. Fuckin’. Dammit!!!” She atrociously roars as she rips your door off effortlessly.
>All you could do was fall to your knees and shake your head in despair.
>“How the fuck could you not find one goddamn person open? Huh? You. Had. Four. Chances!” She screams with a blend of a hellish snarl as she slams her hooves into your detached door.
>Tears start to stream and fall down your face as this what you confirmed to be a possible literal jackass, lifts the door over her head and throws it deep into the woods.
>She wildly huffs and puffs for about one hot minute, but then begins to transpose herself back to a more stable state.
>“….Oh well, guess there’s always next week. Eey, if I fly fast enough, I bet I can catch the Nets game!” She enthusiastically says as if nothing horrible happened.
>You’ve just about gone cross-eyed and dribbles of drool fall from your mouth, but you instantly gain your normal posture back when the Jersey Devil decides to give you a death stare.
>“Consider yourself lucky I owe my dickweed of a cousin money after this debacle or I’d be ripping you a new one, yah douchebag.” She menacingly warns as she spreads her wings to take flight, but gives you one last bit of insults. “And watch where you’re goin’ next time, ya mook!"
>And with that the legend of your state swoops into the night sky to do whatever it is a dickhead of a monster does.
>As for your current condition, you couldn’t even lift a finger off the ground.
>You are physically and mentally beaten throughout your body, mind, and soul after the unfortunate circumstance of tonight.
>Sure it’ll take years and weeks of seeing the psychiatrist to bring you back to what you once were, but you can’t blame yourself.
>What kind of human could even grasp and fathom what exactly has happened here tonight.
>No, there’s no way your ordinary man would be able to consciously collect themselves from one tragedy after another.
>After all, nothings worse than witnessing your new automotive baby being rip to shreds.
>Then again, what could be worse than being dangerously face to face with the deadly and brashly asshole that is the Jersey Devil.
>At the end of the day, there could always be the one thing you wouldn’t wish upon your worst enemy.
>Because there’s still nothing on God’s green Earth that will ever be has horrifying as being a Jets fan.