Volkswagen Beetle (1967)

You reach your hand behind the wheel, only to find nothing. Sitting in the car, your face stained with your parents' blood, you finally realize you left the key by the door. Damn it! You take a deep breath and sprint back to the house, heart pounding in your ears, teeth gritted, drool dripping like an animal, bloody bare feet dart across the grass. Snatching the keys, you race back to the car, lungs burning, a quick shoulder check both ways. The coast is clear. You jump in and lock the door, sliding the key into the ignition. The old VW Beetle engine's roar brings a smile to your face. But as you step on the gas and you hear the sound of rubber touching pavement, you feel a cold hand on your shoulder.