it's not oil. It's blood. A viscous, sticky pool of it. Like a drip painting, as abstract as it is macabre. And—he realizes to his horror—the eerie pool of blood next to the car may be the largest, but it's not the only one. In several places on the floor there are smaller puddles. Near one of these, there is also a dark red stain on the wall, roughly eight inches above floor level.
