roaring inferno.  Faced towards the open door.  Shadow and light conspired to make the pools of blood shine like mirrored surfaces, dazzling her.  They worked together, even as they fought for supremacy, to make the pieces of the elderly man appear to sizzle like bacon fat on the polished hardwood floor. 

Pieces, she realized.  So many pieces that if he were a jigsaw puzzle it would take the combined expertise of master craftsmen like her kids to put him back together again.  Like Humpty Dumpty, her numb brain rattled stupidly.  But it was the thought of her kids that seized her throat.  Made her choke back a sob.  In and among the human debris, organized into bloody but neat little piles, were stainless tools which looked like they belonged, at one time, in the chamber of torture...

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