Where are we? What the hell is going on? The dust has only just began to form crop circles in the carpet, sinking, feeling. Spin me around again and rub my eyes. This can't be happening. When busy streets, a mess with people that stop to hold their heads heavy. Hide and seek...trains and sewing machines. All those years...they were here first.
"I can't wait until we can settle back into our warm and cozy house, cuddle up with blankets and a fire, and just do nothing for a change," Stephanie grinned to her husband.
"Yeah, we won't have to worry about freezing our butts off in this damn freezing weather," said Hunter, who was driving on the icy roads of the expressway.
"It doesn't help driving in the dark on such icy roads like this," Stephanie added.
"We'll be home soon enough," he assured her, grabbing her hand gently and kissing it.
"I personally wouldn't mind turning our bathroom upstairs into a nice, steamy sauna of our very own, if you know what I me--"
"HUNTER, LOOK OUT!"
...Crash...
The roads along Highway 66 were blocked off, as policemen braved the cold while trying to direct the long rows of traffic to a detour. The others were assisting firemen and paramedics with the scene at hand. They had already pulled the woman out from the wreckage, but that had taken awhile. A fire sqaud was now trying to remove the driver of the car with the jaws of life. He was squished between steel and leather interior inside the black rental car.
A blinding mix of red, white, and blue emergency lights lit up the highway for miles, as chaos abound in all sorts of places.
"We've got the top!" one of the rescue workers shouted to a team of medics waiting for the next victim to be freed.
The woman had a weak pulse and had shattered many bones. She had suffered a deep contusion to the head, and the paramedics were having more difficulty trying to save her, each minute that went by.
The chief of police from the area walked over to them and looked down at the unconscious woman. "Good lord," he exclaimed, looking around the area. "Winter and expressways never mix."
"She's critical but not stable enough to be loaded into the bus just yet," one of the medics said.
He shook his head. "Damn shame this is. She looks like a pretty girl too."
One of the firemen who was now standing beside the chief nodded sadly. "Tragedy, a real tradgedy. They're both wearing wedding rings, must've been husband and wife from the looks of it."
"Hey," said the chief, taking a closer look at the woman, "This lady looks awful familiar. Isn't she that heiress to one of them wrestling thrones?"
"She is, sir," replied the medic.
A cop walked up to them and handed the woman's wallet to the chief. "Found this on the girl when they pulled her out," he said. "Her name's Stephanie McMahon-Levesque. Just twenty-six years old."
"That's her alright," nodded the chief, giving a heavy sigh.
"We're losing her!" shouted a medic, as they pulled out the portable defibulators.
The chief walked away and went over to where the other victim was. They were slowly pulling his body from the wreckage.
"Easy with the head and neck," one of the firemen said.
The chief looked at Hunter's driver's license and wallet. "Husband's a wrestler?" he asked.
"Yeah, Chief. Triple H is the name of his character, real name's Paul," answered another officer.
A firefighter walked over to them, sighing heavily and shaking his head.
"What is it, Billy?" the officer asked.
"You mean was the name," Billy corrected him, "The vic is DOA, he must've died on or shortly after the impact."
One of the female medics who was working on Stephanie approached the three men.
"Any change?" asked the Chief.
She shook her head. "We lost her."
The chief rubbed the skin between his eyes, feeling the tension headache already setting in.
"Son of a bitch," he whispered, looking up at his officers, "this is gonna be one hell of a hard call to make."