The Glass
The embassy party began as quite a success. Ambassadors and diplomats and their escorts were present. They represented over thirty nations. The new American Ambassador surveyed the scene from a balcony above the main ballroom. She turned to her escort, a young Marine captain recently assigned to the Embassy. "Shall we?," she inquired, holding out her arm to him. "As you will, Madame Ambassador." He accepted her arm and together they proceeded to the main floor and began the first dance. She found herself enjoying the party and the company of her escort. During a pause in the music, she noticed the beautiful crystal glasses that the drinks were served in and commented on them. "I believe they are Waterford crystal, Madame Ambassador. My mother has a set similar to these," the Marine replied. Soon after the music began again, and she allowed him to lead her in another dance.
About halfway through the evening, the ambassador noticed a commotion near one of the ballroom's entrances. That's about when the noises began. Sounds similar to champagne bottles popping in rapid succession, sounds of glass breaking, sounds of people running, screaming and falling. She turned to her escort, who was speaking with another embassy official, and watched in horror as he was thrown back and down, surrounded by a mist of his own blood. He was joined on the floor by the other official. Their clothes were soaked and a slowly spreading dark pool formed around their bodies. Perhaps most horrible was what she saw falling. The young marine officer had thrown his glass upwards in a reflexive jerk. The Ambassador watched it fall, scintillating as light reflected off the fine cut crystal. It fell and fell, tumbling end over end, spilling all that was left in it. It seemed as though it would never hit the ground. Then it did. She watched as its delicate structure shattered into dozens, hundreds of pieces. Shards flew in every direction, some landed in the blood so recently spilled, looking ever so much like crushed ice in a Bloody Mary. The ambassador had teetered on the edge of sanity, now she fell off. As the glass shattered, so had her mind. She opened her jaws so wide she heard the tendons crack. She screamed and went on screaming and screaming. Her eyes were bugging out of her head, her body was covered in cold sweat, her urethra and sphincter opened simultaneously and still she screamed. Her throat was on fire and she went on. One woman standing in the middle of the dead, the dying, the injured, and the merely terrified, and she screamed. The blood filled the air with its smell and she screamed. Little pieces of crystal reflected the light and she screamed. She looked at the shards again, and realized they didn't look like shards at all. They looked like rough diamonds. She stopped screaming, knelt down and began collecting the shards. She kept collecting them until she realized that the blood was warm. Then she screamed and didn't stop until nothing more than a croak would come from her mouth.
Hours later they found her, sitting in the blood, rocking back and forth, holding the crystal shards in her hands. She was giggling.
About halfway through the evening, the ambassador noticed a commotion near one of the ballroom's entrances. That's about when the noises began. Sounds similar to champagne bottles popping in rapid succession, sounds of glass breaking, sounds of people running, screaming and falling. She turned to her escort, who was speaking with another embassy official, and watched in horror as he was thrown back and down, surrounded by a mist of his own blood. He was joined on the floor by the other official. Their clothes were soaked and a slowly spreading dark pool formed around their bodies. Perhaps most horrible was what she saw falling. The young marine officer had thrown his glass upwards in a reflexive jerk. The Ambassador watched it fall, scintillating as light reflected off the fine cut crystal. It fell and fell, tumbling end over end, spilling all that was left in it. It seemed as though it would never hit the ground. Then it did. She watched as its delicate structure shattered into dozens, hundreds of pieces. Shards flew in every direction, some landed in the blood so recently spilled, looking ever so much like crushed ice in a Bloody Mary. The ambassador had teetered on the edge of sanity, now she fell off. As the glass shattered, so had her mind. She opened her jaws so wide she heard the tendons crack. She screamed and went on screaming and screaming. Her eyes were bugging out of her head, her body was covered in cold sweat, her urethra and sphincter opened simultaneously and still she screamed. Her throat was on fire and she went on. One woman standing in the middle of the dead, the dying, the injured, and the merely terrified, and she screamed. The blood filled the air with its smell and she screamed. Little pieces of crystal reflected the light and she screamed. She looked at the shards again, and realized they didn't look like shards at all. They looked like rough diamonds. She stopped screaming, knelt down and began collecting the shards. She kept collecting them until she realized that the blood was warm. Then she screamed and didn't stop until nothing more than a croak would come from her mouth.
Hours later they found her, sitting in the blood, rocking back and forth, holding the crystal shards in her hands. She was giggling.
posted by spacer01 at 21:08
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