Wake Me Up When It's Time To Go Home - Dark Scooby Doo Ending For Rob

I had been walking along the verge of the high coastal road for about an hour when I saw in the distance a man standing in the middle of the road. As I got closer I realised that he was in some distress. He was clenching and unclenching his fists rapidly, walking back and forth across the narrow road and generally looking like he'd had better days. As I got to within about twenty metres of him I realised all was not right with his particular world. There was to my right what at one stage had been a rather flashy looking convertible car lying upside down in the gorse. A blood soaked arm lay flopped out from the wreckage at an impossible angle. The car looked like it had rolled a fair few times going by the hundred or so yards of flattened shrubbery going back to a set of skid marks on the road ahead. This was where my eyes met with what looked like some sort of oversized roadkill. The man pacing about on the road was, at a guess, in his mid twenties. He seemed not to notice me as I came to the scene. I looked at him and asked if he needed any help. He stopped and looked in my general direction but not at me. He went back to pacing. He was talking to himself but I couldn't hear what he was saying. I shouted this time. 'Hello, what's happened? Are you alright?' Again he looked up and towards me, but no eye contact, just a look of fear and bewilderment. I'm no lip reader, but i'm sure he mouthed the words 'Help Me, They're Dead'. I wandered past the man, towards the body on the road. It was female, as far as I could tell and yes, very very dead. Just as one ought to be after being smashed to bits by a speeding car. The whole scene was becoming too surreal for me and I simply wandered off. I kept looking back. The man, the car and the body remained until the road curved right and out of sight of the strange scene I had just witnessed. I put it down to the hallucinagenic properties of the sea air and too much ecitement for one day and put my head down to make the next town by dusk. The hope that the land ladies of my next port of call couldn't be any less pleasant than those of the place I had just left kept my spirits up and my mind and body from calling it a day there and then in the alluringly soft and tranquil moorland.