Flicker

"The group had walked through the woods, lit by a lantern, on their way to a mellow campsite just over the ridge. Laughing and chanting, they had assumed no rest in their pursuit of glory and happiness that day. They approached the campsite, bugs buzzing around them, at a dusky hour with the sun well below the horizon.

The group was varied, eleven eclectic strangers all suited in their various fashions and ways. They had reached the campsite, taking their seats on four logs surrounding a wooden stake. The stake now held the lantern squarely as it swayed gently in the soft breeze.

The friends sat and talked glory, the lantern illuminated their faces and bodies with a rhythmical glow that seemed to betray the night itself. Eventually the conversations died down, as the eleven friends sat shoulder to shoulder facing the strange flickering.

As time passed, the group was still aglow from the light of the burning lamp. Seemingly no one had noticed the time passing by, and a strange sensation had come over their faces since earlier that day.

Almost thoughtless, the friend's conversation had died to a dull murmur. Even their thoughts seemed to have drifted, far away from the woods and the ridge to another ethereal realm. Helplessly, they looked into the flickering of the burning lantern with a glazed look in their eyes.

Who were they? Why were they there? Why had they gone out there that day? Why, on Earth, had the conversation died some two hours ago and they were still studying this rotten lamp?

An abrupt cry was heard.

The members of the group looked about. One of them, a young man with a mustache, had been stabbed by the man next to him. Greedily, wildly, the assailant looked around. No one reacted, as a look of horror swept across a pretty young girl's face across the lantern from him.

Then they fell silent as the glow of the lantern swept over them, yet again."