The forest was alive with the subtle symphony of nature—leaves rustling with the breeze, crows cawing overhead, and the distant churning of a twisting creek. Alden moved along the narrow trail with a confident stride, his boots crunching on twigs and fallen pine needles. He was deep in the wilderness now, far past any marked paths, driven by the thrill of exploring something untouched.

He came to a clearing, sunlight pouring through a broken patch in the tree canopy above. The moss was thick here, strangely plush, sporadically invading the sides of tree trunks and crawling over stones on the ground. Alden took note of a stillness that hung in the air that made him hesitate for a moment. Feeling almost as if he had just walked into a painting as opposed to a real-life forest. He shrugged it off and his curiosity pushed him forward.

The first sign of trouble came subtly—a shift beneath his left foot, soft where it shouldn't have been. He paused, tried to step back, and that’s when the ground gave way.

With a sudden, wet *schlurp*, Alden dropped to his knees in what looked like a muddy patch of earth. His arms flailed, grasping for branches, for anything, but there was only open air around him. The mud sucked at him, thick and unyielding, and now it was at his thighs.

Its colour was a muted green, swirling strokes of brown. The muck churned around his sinking body as he struggled to free himself, but it seemed that with every movement, he merely displaced more of the quicksand. This caused the “solid” ground around to pit to reveal that it too was a hidden trap.

Panic surged through Alden’s chest, searing his lungs as he over exerted himself to try and escape. He twisted, tried to press himself backward, but the more he moved, the deeper he slipped. The pit burbled around him, a grotesque symphony of *glops* and *gulps*, like a giant throat swallowing each inch of him.

“Help!” he shouted, but the trees stood silent, unbothered. The birds had long since gone quiet.

The quicksand’s sound grew wetter, more alive—*sluck… glub… shlurrrk*—as it reached his waist. It wasn’t just the weight pulling him under; it was the drag, a slow and hungry pull that gripped him tighter the more he fought. He tried to float, to lean back, but the pit clung to him with a cold, intimate grip. Every time he tried to claw his way out, the muck simply gave way and his arms would sink below the surface. It was impossible for him to get a solid grip of anything, he was too far into the pit…

“Okay… okay…” Alden sighed, trying to calm himself, but the pit gurgled mockingly, as though it already knew how this ended.

*Shllrp… glorp…*

Bubbles erupted and burst sporadically around him, painting him in splatters of the thick, green muck. Alden shift his weight, feeling his legs sink deeper and deeper, still unable to feel the bottom.

It was at his chest now, cold mud pressing through his body, lapping against his skin. Every breath brought the scent of rot and damp earth into his lungs. He could barely move his arms, only raise them slightly before the mire pulled them back with a taunting *shhlurp*.

The sounds around him became more grotesque. The pit seemed to suck at him with hunger—*gllllrkk… schhhlop… plurrrghh*. Each noise vibrated in his ears, wet and primal.

His neck was slick with mud now, his jaw trembling as he tilted his head back toward the sky.

“No… no…” he whispered to no one.

The mire bubbled once more—*blrrrp*—then slowly, steadily, closed over his mouth. He made one final, muffled sound beneath the surface—part gasp, part scream—before the quicksand gave a final, satisfied *blorp*, sucking him beneath the surface completely. The muck stirred and shifted as he struggled beneath the surface, still sinking deeper and deeper, his feet yet to find the comfort of a solid bottom… only more and more hungry quicksand, pulling Alden’s struggling body deep into the belly of the earth.

A final burst of splattering bubbles erupted from the spot where Alden had just disappeared from.

And then the pit grew still.

The forest resumed its quiet symphony, as though nothing had happened at all

-

Suddenly, an arm burst through the top of the muck, and then a head, and then a pair of shoulders… Alden grunted and spat out a mouth full of quicksand as he used an old twine rope to pull himself free. Just as he had given into the muck, he grasped what felt like a rope or a vine deep within the pit. He used the last of his strength to pull himself to solid ground. It appears that an unknown Good Samaritan was aware of the quicksand pit, and had tied the rope around a nearby tree and tossed it in as a saving grace for anyone who had found themselves trapped in the mud.

Alden collapsed into the ground beside the tree, panting and coughing as he rolled onto his back. Every inch of him was covered in a thick layer of the slimy green mud. Too tired to clean himself off, Alden just lied on the solid ground, thankful to be alive.