CHRISTINE 2 — CHAPTER 1: THE RETURN
The junkyard is silent. Rain drums against the metal. Hundreds of car hulks, crushed into cubes, rest in the black darkness like tombs. One of them is red. Or would be, if the paint were still visible beneath the oil and rust. The number on its side: CQB-241. No familiar curves are visible. Christine is a cube.
The night tears the sky open. Lightning strikes—not the ground, not a pole—but straight into the core of the Christine-cube. The moon reflects momentarily in the oily sludge… and something ignites. First, a small red glow. Then the warmth spreads. Oil bubbles. Metal creaks like the bones of an animal being forced to move. A sound is heard inside the cube. Faint, cracked… but the words are recognizable: ”Baby, I’m back…”
The metal begins to move. Dents straighten. Surfaces push outward. Red paint creeps to the surface like blood beneath the skin. Electricity sparks, bolts fly, the cube opens like a flower. Wheel, chrome, light—piece by piece. Tires drop to the ground. The grille straightens. The radiator breathes. The engine bay pulsates… like a heart. Finally, the cube is no longer a cube. It is a CAR. Red. Shiny. Alive. The engine growls. The radio plays louder than before. The headlights ignite—blood-red like two eyes. Christine’s story continues. And this time… she doesn’t want love. She wants revenge.
CHRISTINE 2 — CHAPTER 2: THE PURCHASE
Time passes. Days and nights change, and no one pays attention to the car. It just stands there, precisely where the cube had been. Fog hangs over the junkyard. Christine looks dirty, covered in oil and mud, but her red paint still shines through like blood. People walk past without really seeing anything—as if some force is shielding the car from notice. Until…
One morning, a man steps through the junkyard gate: Jari. He has come to look for parts for his old Ford project. He stops when he notices the red car standing in the middle of the scrap heap—as if it were parked there on purpose.
”What is that?” Jari mutters. He walks around the car. No rust. No dents. Perfect lines. The grille reads: 1958 PLYMOUTH FURY. ”Damn… they don’t usually have things like this here.”
The junkyard owner, an old man named Carter, appears next to Jari.
Jari: ”How much does it cost?” Carter: ”I don’t know… It shouldn’t even be here.” Jari: ”So what car is this?” Carter: ”A Plymouth Fury. From ’58.”
Jari wipes dust off the front, and at the same moment the radio inside the car clicks on. ”You belong to me…”
Jari: ”What the hell…?” The radio falls silent. The car stands still. Deathly still. Carter stares at the car uneasily. ”If you want it… take it away. It’s bringing me bad luck.”
Jari had come for a small spare part—but in front of this car, he can’t think of anything else.
Jari: ”How much?” Carter shrugs. ”A hundred bucks, you can have it.”
Jari bursts out laughing. A ’58 Plymouth Fury for a hundred? The price is absurd—but Carter’s look is serious. He wants to get rid of the car. At any price.
Jari: ”Fine. I’ll take it.” Carter throws the keys to him—or so Jari thinks. There is no key on the ring. Carter: ”The keys are already inside.”
Jari didn’t know yet that the car had already chosen him. Not the other way around.
CHRISTINE 2 — CHAPTER 3: THE FIRST DRIVE
Jari drives the Plymouth home. The engine runs smoothly, even though the car has been standing in the junkyard for years. The road surface is wet, and the headlights cut through the darkness like two red knives. In his yard, Jari stops the car, opens the garage door, and starts washing it. A shiny surface is revealed under the foam— alive, warm, as if the metal is breathing.
Then the radio wakes up. ”You belong to me…” Jari glances inside, sits behind the wheel, and says quietly: ”You’re home.” The radio crackles, and the sound disappears. Jari smiles, closes the door, and goes inside to sleep.
But at night… the car’s engine starts by itself. The headlights turn on. The Plymouth begins to move. The alleys are silent. A man walks on the sidewalk, umbrella in hand. He glances at the red car gliding past. ”That car looks familiar,” he mutters.
Christine stops. For a moment, everything is quiet. Then the taillights flash, the gear engages— and the car starts toward him.
The man turns, sees the lights behind him, begins to run. Footsteps patter on the wet street, but the car accelerates. The engine howls. Rain strikes the windshield. The man slips—and then the car runs him over.
The impact echoes in the darkness like thunder. The rain washes the blood away from the asphalt. Christine stops. For a moment, it just stands. Then it turns and drives calmly back home. The garage door closes as if nothing happened. The radio turns on one last time, whispering softly: ”You belong… to me…”
CHRISTINE 2 — CHAPTER 4: THE MORNING AFTER
Morning dawns. The sun rises slowly from behind the fog, and the air is damp from the night’s rain. Jari wakes up, yawns, and stretches. In the yard, the red Plymouth stands perfectly clean— as if it had just been washed. ”Good girl,” Jari chuckles and pats the car’s fender. He sits behind the wheel and starts the engine. The machine purrs to life instantly. Not a cough.
Jari smiles and starts driving toward the town center. The road is quiet. The radio plays softly in the background, an old rock’n’roll song. In the parking lot of a bar, Jari parks the car, steps inside, and orders coffee and a warm roll. A steaming cup and the smell of toasted bread fill the table. For a moment, everything is peaceful.
Then the sound of a siren comes from the street. A police car drives by slowly, as if looking for someone. The younger constable sitting next to the driver points with his finger. ”Turn around, look! There’s a Plymouth!”
The car stops, tires screeching. The police stare at the bar’s parking lot. They don’t know yet that it’s the same car after which the night hid the blood.
CHRISTINE 2 — CHAPTER 5: INQUIRIES
The bar door opens forcefully. Two police officers step inside. Raindrops drip from their coats onto the floor. Silence falls immediately—only the clink of a coffee cup is heard from a table somewhere. The older constable, dark-haired and serious-looking, looks around the room. ”Who owns the red Plymouth outside?”
Jari raises his gaze from his cup. ”I do,” he answers calmly. The younger policeman turns to look at him. ”Where did you buy it?” ”From the junkyard,” Jari says. ”Yesterday. For a hundred.”
The word ”hundred” makes the police officers glance at each other. The older constable pulls out a notebook. ”The junkyard, you say? Which junkyard?” ”Carter’s yard off the highway there.”
The police nod slowly. The younger one whispers: ”A man was found dead there this morning. By the side of the road. Someone had run him over.”
Jari freezes for a moment, but tries to keep his voice steady. ”Is that so?” ”It is,” the older one replies. ”And we’re looking for a red car. A witness said it looked like an old Plymouth.”
Silence. No one in the bar speaks. Outside, the wind picks up and dust swirls around the car. Just then, the radio inside the Plymouth springs to life. ”Baby, I’m back…”
The police turn towards the window. The younger one grins nervously. ”Did you hear that too?” The older one closes his notebook. ”I did. Let’s go take a look.” They step outside.
Jari remains seated, the coffee cold on the table. He hears the car’s engine purring to life— even though the keys are in his pocket.
CHRISTINE 2 — CHAPTER 6: THE INTERROGATION
The police return inside. The door slams shut, and the bar is quiet again. The older constable steps closer to Jari’s table. He stares Jari in the eyes. ”Where were you last night?”
Jari glances at his coffee cup and says calmly: ”At home. I was sleeping.” ”Do you have proof?” the constable continues, with a sharp tone. ”My neighbor does. Ask them,” Jari replies.
He remains composed, but inside his heart is pounding. He remembers going to sleep… but a strange feeling flickers in the back of his mind. The police exchange a look. The younger one writes something in his notebook. ”So, the neighbor can testify that you were home?” ”Yes,” Jari says. ”They live right next door.”
The older constable nods slowly. ”Alright. We’ll check that.” He closes his notebook and turns toward the door. Just before they leave, the younger policeman glances out the window and mutters: ”It sure is a beautiful car…”
Jari doesn’t answer. He just watches the police car pull away. Outside, the Plymouth stands still, quiet— but its headlights flick on for a moment, as if the car had listened to every word.
CHRISTINE 2 — CHAPTER 9: THE EYEWITNESS
The morning breaks, gray and oppressive. The air is heavy, as if the rain has been left hanging in the sky. On the edge of the city, the police car pulls back onto Jari Väänänen’s home street. The older constable gets out of the car, pulls his jacket collar up, and glances at his partner. ”The neighbor called. Said he saw the car at night.”
They walk to the door. The neighbor waits on the porch, a tired look in his eyes and a cup in his hand. ”You said if I remembered anything else…” he begins cautiously. ”I remembered.” ”Go on,” the older police officer says.
”It was the red car. It came into the yard at night. The engine was running, the lights were on. No driver. No one inside.” The younger constable looks at him in disbelief. ”No driver? Are you sure?” The neighbor nods. ”I looked straight through the windshield. Empty. It came right up to the gate… stopped. Then it… it stared at me. Like it was alive.”
The older constable sighs. ”Stared?” ”I don’t know how else to say it,” the man continues nervously. ”Then it backed away. Disappeared onto the street. I haven’t slept a wink since.”
The police exchange a look. The younger one scratches his head and says quietly: ”If that’s true, we’re not talking about any ordinary drive.”
The older one closes his notebook and looks towards Jari’s house. In the yard, the red Plymouth stands still, dewdrops gleaming on its surface. Perfectly silent. Perfectly innocent.
Then… the radio inside the car turns on by itself. ”Baby, I’m back…” The younger policeman jumps back. The older one stares intently. ”Let’s go talk to Väänänen one more time,” he says quietly.
CHRISTINE 2 — CHAPTER 10: THE LISTENING CAR
The morning has turned into a gray day. The sky hangs heavy, and the air feels electric. In the yard, the red Plymouth stands motionless, but something is awake inside it.
The police car pulls into Jari Väänänen’s yard. The doors open, and two constables step out. Their footsteps sink into the wet sand, as they walk toward the porch. Jari opens the door before they can knock. ”You again,” he says wearily.
”We have a couple more questions,” the older constable states. ”Your neighbor said he saw your car moving last night.” Jari frowns. ”That can’t be possible. I slept all night.” ”So the car was in the garage?” ”Yes,” Jari answers quickly, but his voice trembles.
At the same time, the radio in the yard quietly comes to life. ”You belong to me…” The engine purrs into motion. The police turn toward the sound. The older constable glances at Jari. ”Do you have the keys in your pocket?” Jari touches his jacket pocket. ”The keys are here…”
The police look at each other—and step outside. The car stands there, engine running, lights on, but there is no one in the driver’s seat. The younger constable takes a step closer. ”That can’t be—”
Then the headlights flash brightly. The radio crackles, and the engine growls. A red glow appears on the car’s dashboard, as if writing something into an invisible memory.
POLICE — 2 NAMES RECORDED.
For a moment, only a flashing red light is visible inside, then the engine shuts off. Silence. The older constable whispers: ”Did you write that on there?” Jari slowly shakes his head. ”No… but it did it itself.”
The police slowly back away, their gaze fixed on the car’s dark lights. Christine is silent again— but now she knows who they are.
CHRISTINE 2 — CHAPTER 11: THE CHASE
The night is dark and heavy. Two police officers drive along an empty highway. Their car’s taillights disappear into the fog. Then the two-way radio begins to crackle. ”…unknown vehicle… won’t stop…”
They exchange a look. ”Is it the Plymouth again?” Lights appear far behind them. Red, pulsating, approaching fast. ”It is!” the younger one shouts. ”All the lights are on and no driver!”
The engine roars. Christine’s front end approaches like a living fire. The police car turns aside, but the Plymouth hits the bumper and pushes them forward. The siren howls, the radio crackles, and Christine shoves their car into the ditch. One final scream echoes inside the metal— then there is silence.
Christine stops on the side of the road. The lights go out. The machine falls silent. After a moment, the radio clicks on. ”Baby… I’m back.”
CHRISTINE 2 — CHAPTER 12: LOST TO THE ROAD
Morning dawns quietly. The rain has stopped, but the air is still heavy and cold. A mist hovers on the roadside, wrapping itself around the ditches like a gray blanket. Flashing lights approach in the distance. A rescue vehicle. An ambulance. Two police officers lie in the ditch— silent, motionless.
Their patrol car is skewed on the side of the road, the siren still faintly sounding, as if the machine hasn’t realized that everything is over. There is no trace of Christine. Only wet tire tracks lead toward a forest road and disappear.
At the same time, on the other side of the city, Jari Väänänen wakes up to the sound of the coffee maker. The television has been left on from the night before. A news anchor speaks in a calm voice: ”Two police officers were found this morning on the side of the highway. Investigators are determining what happened. According to eyewitnesses, an old red car was seen at the location.”
Jari stops. The coffee cup remains in his hand. He turns slowly toward the window. The Plymouth stands in the yard. Completely clean. Lights off. Silent.
But its chrome grille reflects something else— as if a shadow had moved on the surface. Then the radio inside the car clicks on, softly, almost whispering: ”You belong to me…” Jari takes a step back. The car doesn’t move. But it seems to know that he heard.
CHRISTINE 2 — CHAPTER 13: SOMETHING IN THE CAR
The sun tries to push through the fog, but the light is pale, gray, and cold. Jari Väänänen stands at the kitchen window, his gaze fixed on the red Plymouth. The car stands still, as if nothing happened. But something about it is wrong.
He gets dressed quickly, puts on his jacket, and walks outside. The moisture feels cold on his skin like ice. Step by step, he approaches the car. Every movement feels slowed down, as if the air has become heavy.
When Jari is a meter away, the radio springs to life without him touching anything. ”Baby… I’m back…” He opens the door carefully. It is warm inside. Warm, even though it’s cold outside. The seats have a strange, oily sheen, and a scent that he doesn’t recognize— heavy, metallic, like a mixture of burnt rubber and blood.
Then he notices it. Something dark is stuck under the dashboard. Like clay… or mud. Jari leans closer and touches it with his finger. It is wet. When he pulls his hand away, a reddish mark remains. He freezes. Looks around— there is no one in the car.
But he hears a sound. A quiet, low whisper, that doesn’t come from the radio. ”Drive…”
Jari startles and backs away. He slams the door shut and stares at the car, his breath steaming. The car doesn’t move. But inside, the dashboard lights up with a glow, as if it has awakened to wait.
CHRISTINE 2 — CHAPTER 14: THE WAREHOUSE OF THE PAST
Jari Väänänen stands in the yard, looking at the red Plymouth and taking a deep breath. The car seems to be calling— quietly, in a low, indistinct voice.
He grips the door handle. It opens easily, as if the car was waiting just for him. When Jari sits behind the wheel, the engine starts by itself. The headlights turn on. The gears engage. The car begins to move.
Slowly at first. Then faster. Jari tries to press the brake—in vain. ”Christine… where are you taking me?” he whispers.
The radio wakes up: ”Don’t you remember me…” The road leads out of the city. The post-rain air is thick and full of mist. The roadsides flash by, but Jari recognizes one place— a small intersection, whose sign reads WAREHOUSE ROAD.
The car turns there on its own. Along a narrow dirt road, it drives to an old industrial area, whose buildings are collapsing. Jari recognizes the place. ”It can’t be true…”
The car stops in front of the warehouse. The metal door is twisted and rusted, but an old text is on its side, almost worn away: DARNELL’S AUTO WRECKING.
Christine remains standing silently. Then the radio begins to crackle. ”This is the place.” ”This is where it all began.”
Jari feels cold shivers running down his back. He steps out of the car and looks at the warehouse door. An old sound echoes behind it— like metal being hammered, as if the past is trying to come back to life.
He opens the door. Inside is dark, dusty, and full of old car parts. And in the middle of the floor— blackened marks. Burn marks.
Christine flashes her lights outside. The radio plays again, softly: ”Baby… they tried to break me…”
Jari understands. This is the place, where the old driver died. Where the car was dismantled. But now it has returned.
CHRISTINE 2 — CHAPTER 15: THE DREAM THAT WON’T LET GO
Jari Väänänen sits in the car in front of the warehouse. His hands tremble on the wheel. The engine is off, but his head is throbbing as if someone is hammering from the inside. Thump. Thump. Thump. The sound doesn’t stop. It doesn’t come from outside—it comes from inside his skull.
Jari opens the door, stumbles out, and closes the garage door behind him. He breathes heavily, presses his forehead, and mutters: ”I can’t take this anymore…”
The road home is long and foggy. Christine drives by herself, even though Jari barely holds the wheel. The headlights cut through the gray night, and in every reflection, he sees flashes— like someone else’s face in the windshield.
When he finally arrives home, he stops the car and sits quietly for a long moment. The engine shuts off. Silence.
He goes inside, takes off his jacket, and sits on the bed. His head is still aching. He tries to close his eyes— but sleep won’t come.
Then there is a click. Outside the window, in the darkness, Christine flashes her headlights. Jari starts. ”Leave me alone…” he whispers. Then something taps his shoulder. He turns— but the room is empty.
The light turns red. It fills the entire room. And Jari sees. He is back at the warehouse—but now it is full of people. Men shouting and hitting the metal with crowbars. The Plymouth stands in the middle of the hall, bloody and steaming. Its driver tries to scream, but the door won’t open. Gasoline spills onto the floor, sparks fly, and suddenly the entire car bursts into flames. The flames swallow it, and the man inside screams until the sound breaks off.
Jari stands next to it, helpless. He hears a voice in his ears, deep from the past: ”Do you remember my name?”
The flames go out. Christine stands in his yard again, whole, shiny. Her radio softly lights up and whispers: ”You belong… to me…”
Jari wakes up screaming. Heart pounding, sweat dripping. The morning light shines through the window— and in the yard, the car waits.
CHRISTINE 2 — CHAPTER 16: THE DRIVER’S NAME
Morning rises slowly. The fog is thick as a veil, and the light filters through it like a silvery mist. Jari Väänänen stands at the kitchen window— his gaze fixed on the red Plymouth. Only a moment has passed since the night, but it feels like weeks. The dream was not a dream. It was a memory.
He opens the door and steps into the yard. The dew has soaked his shoes instantly, and the air smells of oil and rain. Christine stands still, but her radio clicks on as soon as Jari approaches. ”Why do fools fall in love…”
Jari stops. It is the same song that was played in the warehouse in that dream. He feels cold shivers running down his back. ”Who did you show me?” he asks quietly. ”That man… who was he?”
A light blinks on the car’s dashboard. Then the dashboard flashes. An old name appears on the digital display— letters one by one, slowly rising from the grave: ”ARNIE.”
Jari stares at the name in horror. ”Arnie? That was you, wasn’t it?” The radio answers, in a soft voice, like a gentle confession: ”I only have eyes… for you…”
The headlights turn on quietly. The car shines in the morning light like a red heart. Jari takes a step backward. ”No… you can’t be alive…” But he already knows the answer. Christine doesn’t just remember the old driver. She still loves. And now, her gaze—her glowing lights— have turned toward him.
CHRISTINE 2 — CHAPTER 17: ARNIE RETURNS
Morning is gone. The day doesn’t seem to begin at all. The sky is leaden gray, and a strange electric charge hangs in the air, as if a storm is waiting for its moment. Jari Väänänen stands in the garage. Christine is there—quiet, innocent, as if she knows nothing of last night. But he knows that she knows everything.
He places his hand on the hood. The metal is warm, even though the garage is cold. He hears a low, muffled hum deep inside the car— like heartbeats. ”Arnie…” he whispers.
For a moment, there is silence. Then the radio wakes up. ”You keep me hangin’ on…”
Jari pulls his hand away. ”You can’t really be here…” The radio crackles, the voice distorts. The words disappear, and a male voice takes their place— young, cracked, but recognizable: ”Yes, I am. You pick up where I left off.”
Jari freezes. ”Arnie?” ”Christine doesn’t forget. She doesn’t let go. She loved me. Now she loves you.”
Jari breathes heavily, his heart pounding in his chest. ”But I don’t want this!” The voice falls silent. Then a quiet, cold laugh is heard. ”No one does, Jari. But she chooses herself.”
The radio shuts off. The headlights flash for a moment, and Jari sees his own reflection on the car’s surface. But the mirror doesn’t show his face— but someone else’s. Arnie Cunningham’s.
Jari stumbles backward. The car is quiet again. But its engine throbs, as if it’s laughing from the inside.
CHRISTINE 2 — CHAPTER 18: TO THE MAN
The door slams shut by itself. The metal resonates and the locks click— not from outside, but from inside. Jari Väänänen freezes behind the wheel. ”Christine…” he whispers. But the car doesn’t answer.
The radio begins to play. A quiet, crackling melody— an old song whose words are almost gone: ”Se mies ajoi traktorilla… koko yö, kunnes moottori sammui…” (That man drove a tractor… all night, until the engine stopped)
The car lurches into motion. Headlights cut through the night, and the road leads out of the city, toward something unknown. Jari tries to open the door. In vain. The handle doesn’t move. ”Where are you taking me?” he shouts. But Christine only accelerates.
His eyes close by force, as if sleep has hit him powerfully. The hum of the wheels becomes rhythmic, like heartbeats.
They drive all night. Christine doesn’t stop once. Jari sleeps a deep, restless sleep— and in the dream, he sees a man. An old man, hands greasy and eyes tired. He stands on the edge of a field next to a tractor. A barn is visible further away, and a familiar red glow on its wall.
Jari wakes up. The sun has risen. The car has stopped. An old farm is visible at the end of the road. A dilapidated house and a garage with an old sign still on its wall: ”C. Darnell – Auto Wrecking & Repair.”
Christine shuts off the engine. The radio falls silent. Jari looks at the house. Something about the place draws him in, but he doesn’t know why.
CHRISTINE 2 — CHAPTER 19: THE OLD MAN’S SECRET
The morning is gray and cold. Mist hovers over the farm, and the hay rustles lightly in the wind. Jari Väänänen gets out of the car. Christine remains quiet, as if waiting.
He walks toward the house, whose paint has peeled off over the years. The door is ajar. He knocks, but no one answers. When he opens the door, the smell of old oil and dust floods out.
An old man sits in the kitchen. Gray hair, wrinkled hands, and deep-set eyes. He slowly raises his gaze. ”You came,” the man says in a low voice. ”I knew that day would come.”
Jari is confused. ”Do you mean… Christine?” The man nods slowly. ”That car doesn’t forget. It remembers everything. It… loves too much.”
He retrieves an old photograph from a drawer. The photo is yellowed, but it shows the familiar red Plymouth. A young man stands next to it, a smile on his lips. ”Arnie Cunningham,” the man says quietly. ”He was the last one who tried to control it. But the car decided otherwise.”
Jari swallows. ”It shows me things. Like dreams.” ”They’re not dreams, boy,” the old man says. ”It shows you what you will become. It does that to everyone it chooses.”
Silence. A clock ticks on the wall like a heartbeat. Then a familiar sound comes from outside— Christine starts by herself.
The old man starts, clutching his chest, and his eyes widen. ”No… not again…” he whispers.
Jari gets up quickly, but too late. The old man slumps against the table, his hand on his heart. He manages to say one more word: ”Run.” Then everything falls silent.
Outside, the car’s engine runs steadily, as if it had heard everything. Christine stands waiting. ”You belong to me…”
CHRISTINE 2 — CHAPTER 20: FAREWELL TO ARNIE
The silence is heavy. In the old man’s house, the wind sways the curtains, and dust floats in the air like the ashes of forgotten days. Jari Väänänen stands motionless for a moment. The old man is gone. On the table under his hand is still the photograph— but when Jari tries to grab it, the paper has vanished.
He turns and sees the car doors open. Christine is waiting. The headlights burn gently, not angrily— as if asking him for one more ride. Jari gets in.
The engine starts by itself, the radio wakes up. ”Since I don’t have you…” The song plays quietly, wistfully.
The rearview mirror shivers for a moment, and a picture appears on its surface. Not a reflection. Not Jari’s face. But Arnie Cunningham. The young man, the same smile as in the old picture. His gaze is direct, calm— as if he knows that this is the last time.
Jari looks at the image, holding his breath. ”Arnie… you look so young.” Arnie smiles. Then he turns his gaze directly toward Jari and says quietly, as if from within the song: ”Time to go. It is yours now.”
Christine lurches into motion, but this time doesn’t accelerate. It drives quietly. The road curves through the forest, the sun rising in the background. The radio continues to play. ”Since I don’t have you…”
The chorus plays, and Jari feels a tear on his cheek. When the song ends, the radio falls silent. Arnie disappears from the mirror.
Christine stops. The engine shuts off. Only the wind remains. And the feeling that something great has ended.