prompt # 50
They stared in horror as the scene sunk in.
The heavy wooden desk in the center of the office was overturned with a leg broken off and stuck into a cushion on the couch pushed against the wall. Torn papers were strewn across the wooden floor, drawing their attention to the crimson liquid staining the once white carpet. It was wine, they tried to convince themself. Not blood. Wine. It was wine that had stained the perfect white fabric just as it had been wine that had led them to this point.







