The boy's lips kept repeating the same word. Silently.
The realisation that the little boy was Timmy startled Tracey and she was thrust back into reality: she felt like a cork held underwater then released as she shot up and bobbed back to the surface of the real world. Suddenly she was once more aware of where she was, lying frightened on the floor in a growing pool of blood, her back to something so evil that its presence gnawed at her fear and her sanity. And the noises! Vicious, disturbing snarls of the clawing, rending, frenzied feeding.