The middle-aged man was lying in his flipped-over car in the middle of the road, blood gushing from his body as he wondered if he was hallucinating. A shadowy old woman in a nun uniform had appeared in the road and as she got closer he could see that she didn't seemed concerned with the fact he was dying, a wide, demonic smile on her face. She was clutching a wooden cross that hung off of her neck with a bony hand, snow falling around them in the dark.
"What do you wa--" The man couldn't finish speaking as the old woman kicked him in the face, blood splattering from his mouth.
The nun laughed and then spoke, "People don't care about you, people only care about what's popular."
"Bitch." The man rattled. The nun took off her rosary and put it around the man's neck as sirens sounded in the distance. As the old woman walked away, down the center of the empty road, the dying man pulled off the rosary and threw it across the cement. She ignored the gesture. He blinked and she was gone.
The man realized that his car was on fire, and went for a broken cigarette from his pocket. His cell phone vibrated and he struggled to pull that out instead, unlocking the cracked screen. The things that wanted to kill him were waiting at the hospital.