Inspirations from the Intoxicated Wallflower

Creation

It started to move.

Excited, breathy gasps of laughter, relief and joy filled the room, almost hushed, in order to avoid disturbing it.

It inched closer to the edge of its petri dish, then seemed to pause and observe it. "It's aware! Conscious! Just like we hoped!" an assistant next to me blurted out happily, clasping her hands together with satisfaction. She was met with about twenty hushes.
Dear God, why the hell did we let the undergraduates stay for this?
All eyes were trained on the tiny blob on the counter, inching almost like a caterpillar over the edge of the dish now.

Nearly every person in the lab, about fifty of us, were hovered over the slab of counter that contained the very Creation we worked our whole careers toward. Shoving, shushing, and cramping to fit and get a good view. Of course, excitement can't even describe the feeling. It was ecstasy, incomparable to any euphoric drug.

I don't know what we were thinking, though.

As our Creation inched ever so close to the edge of the counter, it dawned on us through the mist of long awaited eagerness and anticipation, at the very last second, that our hard work was about to fall off the damn counter. I can speak for everyone when I say our hearts nearly sunk into our asses. No one thought we'd get this far, I suppose? An error on our part.

Fatal error, to be exact.

Professor Boher, our lead scientist, held out his hands to catch it.

And then, a blink.

This is where it gets hard to explain.

Like when you swore you only shut your eyes for a second while in bed at night, but once they open again, the sun is beaming through the blinds. A blink in time.

Except I wasn't standing where I was before. Neither was anyone else.

The Creation was gone.
The whole counter was gone.
The only thing that remained was a mushy puddle of red and chunks of stuff I could only assume was the remains of Professor Boher, considering I no longer spotted him anywhere.

I looked down at myself. This wasn't even my lab coat, anymore. Or my pants, or shoes... judging by the uncomfortable tightness in my asscrack, I was now wearing one of the undergraduate's thongs.

There was a bitter taste in my mouth, almost as if I vomited during the time I lost and swallowed it subconsciously? I suppressed the anxiety that came with my immense confusion. Some assistants around me weren't as wise, and gave into their emotions. An outcry of fearful bewilderment slowly started to fill the room.
Such a bizarre situation, an outbreak of panic.

A colleague pointed at the ground, to the left of him.
"There-!"
He never got to finish his exclaim.

Another blink.