At first, it was just small changes. His gaze drifted into emptiness, his mood swung between euphoria and oppressive silence. Sometimes, he would stand in the middle of the hallway, head tilted, as if listening to something Wendy and Danny couldn’t hear.

And then there was the bar.

The empty bar that was never empty.

Jack spent more and more time in the Colorado Lounge, talking to no one. Or to someone only he could see. And when he returned to the room, his breath smelled of alcohol.

But there was no alcohol in the Overlook.

Right?

Danny and the Visions The images came like a whip crack, so vivid there was no way to ignore them.

Blood on the walls. Muffled screams. The elevator rising and falling, though no one called it. His father’s face, twisted into something that wasn’t his.

Danny woke up gasping.

He clutched his throat. He could still feel the fingers closing around it, squeezing, squeezing…

He ran to the bathroom and vomited.

—Mommy…

Wendy was there in an instant. She knelt beside him, held his face in both hands.

—Again, Danny?

Danny sobbed into her chest.