I think the moving in time thing is done very very well in that episode and far more effective than simply having the victims die.
The protagonist loses two friends in the episode: first her closest friend - she vanishes and while the protagonist is looking for her, she gets a letter from the friend, written years ago, the friend being long dead.
After that there’s a potential love interest. They flirt, exchange numbers and the next time she sees him, he’s an old man dying in a hospital.
Sure, for the victims it’s a “nicer” fate than getting killed, but for the protagonist - who most people identify with - it’s dreadful! It plays on our fears of losing someone close who was just there right next to us a moment ago. And knowing that the victims knew they would have to live their life without ever being able to contact their loved ones makes a much better story than having the victims die.
Yes. this is exactly that same sort of thing. Glance away for a moment, suddenly it’s a halved the distance between you. The light flickers for a moment and it’s right in front of your face.
Yes, that speaks to the same fear as the weeping angels. That tiny shred of hope. If some invulnerable superpowerful being wants you dead, then you shrug, wince, or tense, and accept your fate.
Maybe it’s the fact that your fate is decided not by this supernatural being, but by your own weakness and frailty. The alien being is hard to understand and hard to relate to, but most people, I imagine, are constantly worried (at some level) that their weakness will cause all their happiness to come crashing down.
Yes. While stationary they’re in some weird “quantum-locked” state (whatever that means) where they’re indestructible.
Oh, and I forgot to mention that they tend to “hunt” in packs. So there’s always one just … BEHIND YOU.
And then the somebody arrives with a letter written 50-60 years ago from the person that’s just disappeared, with instructions to deliver it here at this exact date and time.
I actually tried that after that episode first aired. I found I couldn’t sustain it. There was still this feeling that I needed to blink, and it took too much mental energy to keep not doing it. I always wound up blinking within about five minutes.
Sort of like Robbie’s clown in the 1982 movie Poltergeist. Robbie’s in bed, and can see the big stuffed clown doll sitting in the chair on the other side of the room. Robbie rests his eyes for a minute, then looks again, and the clown is no longer in the chair. :eek::eek::eek::eek::eek: