The lights flicker. Dread coats me like snow in winter. The wood gives me a blister.

I stare back at it from my hotel room in the valley.

I turn around.

The cars race in their rally.

I see the black shadowy figure loom above me like a tower.

I walk to the bathroom to take an icy cold shower.

I see the red.

**** (Take only the bold and read it.)