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The Apartment #178

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Hardly noticeable amongst the bleeding frenzy a young child, face taught with disbelief and horror, is standing between two of the seated guests. His face is spattered with their blood.
He's not much more than a baby, bless him, Tracey thought.
His face was all huge eyes and splashes of red, drying dark on his skin. Perhaps it's wine, Tracey hoped, but she knew she was fooling herself. His head only just reached the table-top and his hands held onto the side of it as if he would fall without support. How hadn't she noticed the poor child before?

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