The dim glow of the red light bathed the room in an eerie, almost suffocating hue. Shadows danced along the damp walls, flickering like ghosts in the hazy darkness. A heavy scent of decay mingled with the sharp tang of iron, assaulting the senses and making it difficult to breathe.
In the center of the room, pressed against the cold, wet glass, was a woman. Her eyes were wide with terror, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She could feel the oppressive heat of the red light burning into her skin, making her feel as if she were trapped in a living hell.
A sinister figure loomed behind her, his face obscured by the shadows. His hands were wrapped tightly around her throat, his grip unyielding and cruel. She tried to scream, but only a strangled whimper escaped her lips, lost in the suffocating darkness.
As her vision began to fade, the last thing she saw was her own reflection in the glass, distorted and twisted by the crimson light. Her captor's face finally came into view, a grotesque mask of madness and malice, his eyes gleaming with unholy delight.
With a final, desperate gasp, she succumbed to the darkness. Her soul was swallowed by the Red Room, her screams echoing through the corridors of the forsaken hotel, a warning to those who might dare to follow in her footsteps.
And so, the Red Room claimed another victim, its insatiable hunger for terror and despair never sated. The legend would live on, drawing the curious and the brave into its nightmarish embrace, forever trapping them in its hellish grip.