It was quite a lovely day at the camp. A bunch of kids ran between the rows of makeshift tents and huts, giggling and playing fetch. A few men just returned from the river, with water and freshly washed cloth. They carried knives and machetes, and although they were useless against Them, they provided an illusion of comfort and control. It was only a few more days worth of travel until the group reached the shelter, if the old maps were to be trusted. But they were slow, with lots of luggage, children and elderly. They didn't know if they could make it. Rumors of other groups being vanquished in the blink of an eye had reached them, only very few surviving. Once They had tasted blood, nothing could stop them. Too strong to be chained or held up by these puny capsules they killed everyone in their way with long, scaly fingers and a faceless grimace, their bodies long and slender, of a muddy brown colour. This group had yet to see one of Them. No one had seen one while it was alive. And those who did didn't live to tell the tale. They can't see you. They smell you. Sense your warmth. Hear your breath. It was told those who saw Them went insane and left their safety. Do not look at them. Or they will look at you. And you won't survive that.
The only way to avoid them was a capsule. A tiny compartment made of glass, sealed airtight. If you could make it to your capsule in time and leave no trace on it, you were lucky. If not, you will know very soon.
A single dove took off from the trees and an eerie silence followed. Then, the group heard the gong. They were here. Mothers grasped their children, running to their tents. A few people who weren't fast enough were trampled by others, and hurried to get back up, now covered in dirt. Although hectic, the whole group was quiet. Fires were extinguished, water buckets kicked over in a rush. No one made a sound, not even the youngest.
And then They came. No one dared to look. Sweat ran down their spines. A few recited quiet prayers, clasping their hands together. Nothing was left but to hide and hope not to be found. To not have left a trace. Or to be discovered by pure chance. They all sat in their tiny capsules, already feeling the cramps in their legs, trying to breathe as calm and shallow as possible. Air was little inside. And if you ran out, you had no option but to open yout capsule. And this would mean that They would find you.