A constantly growing, psuedo-fan-fiction choose your own story, loosely based inside a well-known fantasy world.
The gas tank on the dashboard was starting to flash empty, despite that I topped off at the last depot, too many miles back. My car was loaded with supplies for a long vacation for myself in the wilderness, and getting lost on the way was part of the plan, though certainly not /this/ lost.
A fog crept up around me as I rode the switchbacks higher into the mountains. I fumbled with the CD player, popping out a warm and tired disc and tossing it down into the box on the passenger-side floor along with the past listening history, before grabbing the next one randomly from my CD case. With my eyes still on the road, I pushed it into the built-in player, the world slowly turning gray.
It clicked, chirped, and spat the disc partly out, and I took my foot off the gas before glancing down at the problem. "DATA DISC," it read in digital letters, the almost archaic player only able to discern that much and no more. I reached up to take it out, barely glancing at the label on the disc, but the machine ate it back up again.
I sighed, my fingers missing and stubbing on the hard plastic, shifting my foot to the brake. I stepped on the pedal as I jabbed the eject button, but the player only started to spin the disc. I pressed and held the button, only belatedly realizing the brakes weren't responding.
The car slowed to a crawl, the unurged motor barely winning over the slope of the hill. A familiar tune began to play over the speakers as the fog completely enveloped me. The road disappeared, and I felt the slope crest and subside. We started downhill.
I slammed the emergency break down, and it engaged for a moment before popping back HARD. I pulled at the steering wheel, turning away from the slope, and the engine finally died, taking the power steering with it. I wrenched it harder, turning the car into the side of the road, and then the side of the hill, where it finally ground to a halt.
I winced at the damage and didn't look forward to examining it, hopefully repairable if I ever rescued it from this place. We'd been through a lot together, and hopefully had more to look forward to.
I levered the car into park, and pulled out the key, before climbing out. Despite how rediculous I felt, having heard too many horror stories, I pocketed the keys as I climbed out of the car, closing the door only enough that nothing might climb in, but the latch didn't engage. With my hand dragging along the side of the car, I shuffled carefully to the rear.
The fog was complete. Without my hand on the blue bumper, I surely would have lost sight of even the car too. I threw my weight against it, not so much hoping it would move as hoping it didn't.
And it didn't.
I walked back to my door, trailing my fingers reassuringly, almost lovingly, against the panels, and climbed back in. Some of the fog had leaked into the car, and the windshield had a perimeter of dew on the inside. I shut the door behind me, locked it, and prepared to wait out the fog. I put the key back in the ignition, turned it to auxiliary, leaned back my seat, and drifted into sleep.