Aktuh and Melota

The raucous noise in the hall rose even higher as the red-velvet curtain opened. Boos and catcalls filled the room when members of the audience saw the female walking hesitantly on stage. With the famous love opera, "Aktuh and Melota", scheduled for that night, having a skinny blue Andorian as the lead singer instead of a swarthy voluptuous female of their race infuriated the Klingon males. They took it as an insult to their culture, and no one insulted a Klingon and lived.

Earlier, bottles of potent Bloodwine had passed from hand to hand, heating up the blood of the men and provoking a handful of drunken but generally harmless scuffles. Now, totally inebriated and more than ready to fight to the death, a hundred or so Klingons cursed and yelled out their furious anger. Many of them swarmed towards the stage, ready to tear limb from limb any hapless person in their way. At that moment, they did not care if it was an actor or actress, stage crew member, or innocent bystander.

“Kill! Kill! Kill!” was the chant filling the opera house, growing louder as more and more of the audience joined the frenzied mob now pouring onto the wide stage. Having run for her life, a wise move on her part, the Andorian soprano cowered in her dressing room behind a locked door. Not so smart was the stage manager, Winn, a scrawny human male who had thought the addition of another species would be a welcome change in this opera. He never got a chance to make another mistake like this as his battered and lifeless body disappeared under the onslaught of outraged Klingon opera aficionados.

Outside the Ler'at Opera House, people passing by stopped to listen to the sounds coming out through the many open windows and doors. Those familiar with Klingon enthusiasm about music did not give it a second thought, thinking this was just the normal noise that accompanied most operas. True, the yelling of Klingons did drown out the terrified screams of their victims, so the people outside could not be blamed for ignoring the slaughter going on just a few yards away.

As the dark of night turned into a dank morning, the noise inside the building started to diminish. One by one and in small groups, weary but content Klingon men swaggered out into the clammy mist. Their thirst for blood and vengeance was satisfied, at least for a few hours. Inside, bodies of many species littered the rooms back stage. Those who had survived the murderous frenzy crawled or limped towards the stage, shocked beyond words at the devastation that appeared before them. Leading the way was the Andorian female, Talar, who had inadvertently started the riot.

Talar looked around at the smashed seats, parts of which were covered in blood from being used as weapons. She stared at the almost unrecognizable body of Winn, dismembered and still oozing blood onto the wooden stage. Only his torso and head, with terrified wide-open eyes staring up at her, remained intact.

Maybe I’d better rethink being a participant in Klingon operas,” went through the young woman’s mind, as she returned once more to her dressing room. “The turnover rate and manner of attrition is way too violent for me.”

This ended another evening of music and mayhem. If you feel the urge to attend a Klingon opera, remember they can be loud, bloody, and dangerous. Bring your weapon of choice with you and have a great time!

Microsoft Word count = 587

Written for a daily Writer's Cramp forum contest.

http://www2.writing.com/main/forums/item_id/333655