It was the eyes that spurred Tracey into action.
Timmy's eyelids withered back over his eyeballs and the skin around the orbs of both eyes wrinkled and tore as his eyeballs expanded. Pupil and iris shrank to small black dots on their swollen masses. Their whiteness greyed, became lined with capillaries, an explosion of black and red tracings. Then the eyeballs flashed a bright lime-green that glowed with an almost fiery, scorching intensity.
Tracey spun around and leapt to her feet. Instantly she was standing at the cutlery drawer, a long bladed carving knife held out towards her son.