Summary: I will redden the road.
The asphalt streets are the greatest successor to the obsidian altars of ancient Lemuria. The blasphemous divinities supped the souls and consumed the carnage of those sacrificed upon its dark altars. That era is forgotten now, a gift to the sanity of human historians. However, the dark gods still hunger.
The automobile has created the perfect pastel for human sacrifice. I remembered chests impaled on steering wheels. I remembered school buses electrocuted by fallen power lines, children fried like microwave popcorn. I remembered the cars flying off precarious alpine roads, trapping the travelers in a flaming casket of twisted metal. I remembered the cars skidding upon frozen roads, splattering the passengers like pancakes.
The best of them were deemed accidents. The worst are sloppy, but unproveable. I traveled the world's roads, leaving hazards behind me. My latest was a piece of piano wire across a road frequented by bikers. Their splattered skulls spewed brains across the pavement like broken eggs. I move on, knowing the dark gods are satisfied with my work. For them, I will redden the road.