The Glitch
As the clock struck midnight and crowd began greeting the new millennium with riotous shouting and merriment, the ground shook and the air vibrated ominously. Moments later fireworks exploded into a vibrant iridescent display seeming to split the very sky above Westminster palace open. As the embers of the fireworks died a brilliant white split, the length of the palace and cutting through the tower, grew twisting and shaping into an irregular polygonal mass. Only seconds after the first barrage of fireworks the rift had taken on its full size and shape with colour gentle pulsating across various pastel hues but appear to not illuminate anything.
The second barrage of fireworks launched appearing to puncture the shape never to emerge from the other side. Some exploded before making it that far lighting the nights sky brilliant as if hundred more fireworks had exploded than just the handful that did. Then a ripple. Emanated from the shape in London's night sky washed throughout the surrounding area and through the very crowd I was stood in. As it passed over the world I could see the fireworks that had just been, the burnt out shape of the palace, it seemed to show something different over each space it sped through.
With each pulse the top of the clock tower separated further from its base. Yet it hung there, at an ever greater angle as it lethargically pushed for the heavens. Gravity it appears had forgotten its duty in the moment of disarray. More pulses split forward from the shape at an irregular beat. Each one puncturing into me, delivering a nauseating feeling.
The pulses guided my eyes to the now transfixed crowed I was part of. Some still cheered and hugged, having not noticed or not been in a state to notice the otherworldly sight before them. As the ripple washed over them my vision of them contorted, pulled into odd shapes as if by a trick of the light, others briefly became skeletal while others took on a comically heroic visage. My eyes stopped following the ripple as I noticed smaller rifts nestled into the crowd. Each a different size but each an irregular brilliantly bright polygon. And each emanating similar but weaker warping ripples into the crowd.
Shouts and screams erupt from somewhere in the crowd as a bloodcurdling howl pierced through the shocked crowd like a lance. A mutated mass of twisted muscle barrels its way towards me, rending through the fleshy crowd. ##leaves by teleport... somehow? Or mutates.
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