Declan walked through the moonlit forest, his blue Mohawk once spiked and styled had become messy and drenched in sweat. The thumping bass from the rave still echoed in his chest, and the world swirled around him. His leather jacket clung to his sweaty skin, and his leather boots, adorned with electric-blue socks, crunched on the pine needles and fallen leaves strewn across the path beneath him.

Lit by the moonlight the trees leaned in, their branches like twisted fingers reaching for him. He’d taken a shortcut, an overgrown path that led through the heart of the forest. But now, as he stepped onto a patch of spongy ground, he realized it was no ordinary path. The earth gave way beneath his boots, and he sank.

Quicksand.

Declan’s heart raced. Panic clawed at chest and he could feel his pulse in his throat. He fought to pull his legs free, but the more he struggled, the deeper he sank. The brown muck churned and bubbled as it sucked him down deeper, completely devouring his leather boots and encompassing his knees and thighs.

Declan struggled helplessly but the quicksand was relentless. Seemingly bottomless, it hungrily swallowed him deeper and deeper. Past his waist, he drenched his arms into the mud to try and pull his legs free. His heavy boots were filled with muck which made it next to impossible to pull himself free.

His jacket weighed him down as he sank chest deep in the pit. The forest seemed to close in on him as he panicked and struggled to free himself. Sweat dripped from his brow and stung his eyes as he frantically looked in all directions for something— anything that could help him escape.

“Help!” he shouted, but the night swallowed his cries and no one was near to hear his pleas for aide.

Desperation fueled his fight. He clawed at the edges of the pit, mud caking his fingers. His chest and shoulders disappeared entirely and he wondered if this was his end.

The thick mud surrounded Declan’s neck and inched closer to his chin. A bubble burst near his face and splattered him with muck.

Declan craned his neck up to keep his face above the surface but it was too late, in one final plunge the pit swallowed him whole and completely covered his face. He struggled and thrashed but he was now blinded and deafened by the mud.

The surface of the pit stirred and swirled as he thrashed beneath it. Just as Declan was about to succumb to the pit, he felt a thrusting force under his armpits that pulled him up above the surface.

Declan gasped and greedily inhaled the air from the surface. His face was caked in muck and he could see the mysterious force that had saved him at the last minute.

Declan was dragged out of the pit and left to rest and gather himself on the floor of the forest. He cleared his eyes and looked up to see a young man with a moustache and ball cap leaning beside him.

“You ought to be more careful out here bro… there’s hidden quicksand pits all over this forest…”

Declan saw an old pick up truck idling in the distance, the tailgate was down and Declan could just barely make out the silhouette’s of rope and rolls of duct tape in the pick up bed.

“And then of course… you ought to be more careful around strangers out here, too” the man said with a devious grin.