Capturing the Moment

         Artie prowled through the dusty shop, looking for the gem that would shine among the junk laying jumbled on the shelves. Antique or junk shops were such fun to browse. Just a few months ago, he had found an Atari 2600 in working condition with 10 games! That find kept him busy for a couple of months. Now he was hoping to find an old camera, his most recent obsession.

         Artie was almost at the last of the shelves when his elbow knocked against a hideous glass vase. He reached out with his lightning fast gamer reflexes and steadied it before it could fall and break. A glint of something reflecting caught his eye. Pushing aside the vase and an equally ugly bowl, he found it, an old box camera. Pulling it slowly and reverently from the back of the shelf, Artie held his breath in awe. It was a Kodak Duaflex II according to the plate on the front of the camera. All Artie knew was that it was an awesome looking old camera. He had to have it!

         Once in his bedroom, Artie excitedly pulled out the camera. He examined everything, scrutinized, absorbed in the camera. Then he noticed that the camera took 620 film. He'd never heard of that, so off to the Internet to find a film supply company. To his dismay, 620 film wasn't made any more. How was he going to use his camera? He frantically googled 620 film. 10 minutes later, Artie let out a whoop. He'd found a way to convert 120 film to fit a 620 camera. That was more like it. He ordered a half dozen rolls of film and then reluctantly set aside the camera.

         After a couple of weeks of filing and testing film spools, Artie was ready. It was the homecoming game that night and he wanted to get some cool black and white shots of the game. Tossing the converted spools into a bag, he grabbed the Kodak and headed to the school.

         The night started out great. He got some good shots of the team and some great ones of the cheerleaders! A couple of old people and seen him with his camera and complimented him, reminiscing about camera's they used to have.

         A fight broke out on the football field. Both teams starting tearing at each other sounding like animals. Screams erupted in the crowd as the fight grew. Artie started snapping pictures of the frightened people in the grandstands. He could see the Pulitzer with his name on it now!

         Slowly the audience started murmuring, angry shouts rang out. A brawl erupted in the stands, men were punching and flailing around, women were screaming and scratching wildly with their nails. Artie looked on in disbelief, as an old man starting hitting another old man with his cane. It was like the whole world had gone insane.

         He looked back at the field, several players were laying in pools of blood. The coaches were in the middle of the field now, swinging and screaming at the top of their lungs. Artie raised the camera again and snapped another picture. Suddenly the fighting stopped as everyone on the field turned toward him.

         Looking up from the viewfinder, Artie felt his blood run cold. The players, coaches and the crowd in the stands were starring at him, and then started walking toward him. He lowered the camera and took a step backward. The crowd surged forward, they began to smile. Evil, twisted, horrible smiles. Artie had seen enough, he turned and ran. Behind him he could hear the pounding of feet growing louder and louder.

         Artie raced across the parking lot, his heart pounding in his chest. He could hear sirens in the distance, too far to help him. And what were the police going to do against this big crowd? They would just run over them.

         He began to sob, what was happening? He didn't understand! Tears started trickling down his cheeks. He was running out of steam and the feet sounded closer than ever.

         He darted between cars, trying to regain some ground, and it happened. His big clumsy feet betrayed him. He tripped over a parking berm, the camera flying out of his hand to smash onto the concrete sidewalk and shatter.

         Artie clapped his hands over his ears as a horrible scream sounded and particles of light gushed out of the broken camera. Realizing that the crowd would be right behind him, he rolled over.

         He gaped open-mouthed at the streams of light flowing up from the camera remains arced among into the crowd. The crowd slowed as the ones in front were hit with the light and stumbled around in a daze, causing a pile up. After several minutes the roar of rage was replaced with weeping, people collapsed right and left, exhausted, terrified and wounded.

         Artie looked from the crowd back to the camera which was now just a broken camera. Somehow it must have done something to the people. It was his fault that everyone went crazy! Maybe his camera had taken their souls, like he had read some people believed.

         Artie slowly got to his feet, keeping a wary eye on the crowd and then limped down the sidewalk with skinned knees. He would never tell anyone about this, they wouldn't believe him. And from now on, he was sticking to his computers and video games.