Engagement - by PM2K

[PM2K]

Another sinking tale from yours truly...

Engagement - by PM2K

The leap had been quick and perfect, like the strike of an asp. Becky pauses atop the firm clump of grass, and shivers with excitement. All around her, the thick and tall reeds of the wetland wave in time with the soft breeze, but it isn't the soothing swish her ears are intent on focusing on to the detriment of all other sounds.
"Becky! Where the hell are you?"
The young woman smiles thinly. She clears several strands of dirty blonde out of her eyes, then calls out.
"Here, Lynn! Over here!" she says, waving, hoping the motion of her outstretched hand is enough to be seen above the reeds. She didn't dare leap up from her current location, unsure even now of its solidity beneath her bare, muddy feet.
The sounds of movement make her heart pound with excitement. Her blue eyes scan downwards to the wet, lightly cracked surface of the dark mud lying in front of her. A shallow puddle of water sits near its slightly concave center.
The heat and humidity is oppressive, but it isn't the feeling of sweat plastering the denim of her shorts or the cotton of her shirt to her tanned skin which makes her squirm in place. She bites her lip to keep from screaming with impatience.

Finally, after several slices of eternity pass, a young woman pushes herself through the curtain of reeds. Lynn is dressed in a midriff exposing thin shirt and light pink capri pants, which are lightly dotted with specks of dark mud and streaks of bright green grass juice. She is wearing sandals on her feet, which are thickly splattered with wet earth.
The dark haired girl frowns with impatience. She stretches out her right arm, and opens her hand.
"Damn it, Becky... we're not kids anymore... just give me the god damn keys..."
Becky smiles mischievously, while trying to mentally still her churning stomach. Her innards turn to ice, and pulse to the beat of her heart, which is hammering so loud she fears Lynn will hear it. The young woman lifts her right arm high, dangling the keys between her thumb and index finger. They jangle in response, a crisp metallic sound.
"If you want them..." Becky says, smiling as she waves the keys. Lynn shakes her head. It is clear she is getting angry.
"I don't have time for this...." she says. "I'm meeting Matt at the restaurant at six..."
"Oh, right... Georgio's.... that's Matt's fav, isn't it?" Becky responds, some of the playfulness slipping out of her tone. "He never could get enough of their tortellini..."
Lynn takes a step forward, her toes hanging past the edge of spongy grass and over the mud. Becky holds her breath.
"Oh, for Christ's sake... is that what this is about? God... it's been five years..." Lynn says, the edge of exasperation in her voice. "I thought by now you'd have moved on... He broke up with you weeks before the prom... He made it clear to you it was over..."
"Over?" The expression which now slides over Becky's face chills Lynn. For a moment she considers turning and fleeing back to the car, keys or no keys.
"Over? It is not over between us..." she says. "Matt is just confused... but I know he'll come around..."

It was awful. Awkward. She felt so naked in the spotlight...
"This isn't working out... I'm sorry, but..." Matt had stammered over coffee. He picked up the cheque, and walked out. Two weeks later, he went away to attend college.
Afterwards, Becky hadn't heard from him in weeks. He wasn't answering her calls, her texts, her emails. He seemed to be elsewhere whenever she showed up at his home...
He clearly made a mistake. Matt didn't know what he was doing. That's it. Boys are so easily distracted. So dim. Unaware of things. Obvious things. Blind to the facts. We're perfect for each other... Soulmates... why couldn't he see that?
Then Becky came to a realization. Someone had come between them and their perfect love.

"Look... this was a mistake..." Lynn sighs, noting a far away gaze in Becky's eyes begin to fade. "I thought... I thought if we could get together, we could clear the air..." she said. "I mean, we were friends for years, since grade school...."
Becky's gaze traveled downwards to the mud, and how it quivers in time with their motions on its edge.
"I'd hate to have it end like this..." Lynn continues. "I never expected to run into Matt at college, believe me..."
"I believe you..." Becky says quietly. "Matt is just weak that way..."
Lynn sighs again. Several mosquitoes buzz around, but even they are finding the heat and humidity oppressive.
"Please? The keys? Tonight is very important to me..."
"Sure..." Becky says. "Catch..."
She tosses the keys towards Lynn, who lunges forward out of reflex to intercept them. The keys vanish with a quiet splat in the muck, followed by Lynn, who cries out in alarm as the soft ground quickly swallows her legs and hips. Her descent slows dramatically as she is driven chest deep, forcing a thick wave of mud and water sloshing in all directions. Feeling the ground wobble and shift beneath her bare feet, Becky quickly steps back off her grassy perch onto more solid ground.
"Oh, god... what..." Lynn sputters, her face splattered with dark colored matter. Now immersed, she finds the sloppy mire surprisingly thick and difficult to move in. Deep beneath its churning surface, her feet feel nothing solid to push against. She looks at Becky, and stretches her arms out to her.
"Becky.... help me out of this..." Lynn says, alarmed by how quickly she is settling deeper into the mud pit. "I'm sinking... oh, god, I think I'm sinking..."
Becky looks at her with a strange expression, but makes no moves towards her.
"What is wrong with you?" Lynn says, her voice quavering on the hard edge of panic. "Help me!"
The loose, sucking mud swiftly consumes her breasts, plastering her shirt to her struggling form. She claws desperately at the muck in an attempt to swim towards the edge, but only succeeds in driving herself in deeper. Panting from the effort, Lynn looks again towards Becky, and feels a chill deep within her. The blank expression has changed into one of excitement.
"Oh my god... this is just perfect..." she says. "I can't believe how fast you're sinking...."

Lynn stares incredulously at Becky as the mud oozes to lap at her shoulders. Her eyes sparkle as she squats down to get a better look at her victim. Lynn feels an icy stab to her innards as she realizes that is exactly what she is...
"Oh... Jesus..." she says, provoking a short bark of laughter from Becky.
"Jesus ain't going to save you, honey..." the blonde woman states in a tone of triumph. "No one is..."
"Oh, God! Someone! Help me!" Lynn screams, as the tops of her shoulders slip under. Panic has seized her, and once more she attempts to clamber out of the muddy deathtrap, only to find she can no longer lift her arms free of the sucking mire.
Becky giggles excitedly as she watches the other woman sink. Earlier in the week she had tried out the muck herself, clad in a swimsuit, and had gone completely under with ease, never once touching bottom. Only a rope she had tied around herself beforehand allowed her to escape, and even then it had been difficult, taking her nearly a half hour to pull, crawl and kick herself free. Later still, she had used a weighted fishing line to check its depth, and gave up after 40 feet had spooled out.
"Scream all you want, bitch..." she says. "There's no one around for miles...."

Chin deep now, Lynn tilts her head up in an effort to keep her mouth free of the dark slime, which bubbles evilly around her as foul gases are released from deep within it.
"Please... help me... you... can't do this..." she pleads. "It's murder... murder..."
"Murder? Not without a body, it isn't..." Becky says. "That muck is practically bottomless... and that thick layer on top will keep you down nice and deep..."
"Please... no... plea.... mmmm.... mmmm..." Lynn's mouth and nose slip under, and the mud froths violently as her last breath is forced to the surface. For a moment, her eyes bulge in terror, then close as the heaving muck slides over the rest of her face. Her hair rests for a moment atop the mire's surface before vanishing in a thick swirl of bubbles and sloppy mud. Becky watches silently until the pit's surface stops heaving. She shudders, but not from horror. Slowly she stands, and makes her way carefully around the edge of the boggy patch, feeling with her feet. Taking one more moment to stare at Lynn's grave, she smiles broadly.
"Matt.... look what you made me do..." Becky sighs, then turns to head back to the car. So much still to do.... but love is all about making sacrifices.

Becky hums to herself, a towel wrapped around her, as she adjusts the water in the shower stall. Last time she checked, she had at least an hour to get ready before meeting Matt.
In the five years since Lynn's disappearance, Matt had remained in mourning. The engagement ring he intended to surprise her with at the restaurant that fateful evening still hangs from a slim chain around his neck, taunting Becky every time she saw him around town. But she is determined to change that soon...
The papers and television had been full of coverage in the first week. Lynn's car had been found submerged in the bayou after the young woman apparently missed the narrow bridge and plunged into it, one of many who had met their ends over the years in just that way.
The fact her body never surfaced was no surprise, either. With the muddy water, strong currents, tangles of drowned trees and old branches, and wildlife abundant, people vanished all the time.

Becky had followed those reports with a smug satisfaction. Waiting until dark, she had driven the car to the bridge, then pushed the car into the murky water. The keys she had tossed into the mud belonged to an old Chevy her dad once owned years before, but Lynn had been too angry to notice.
Riding the mountain bike she had concealed near the marsh proved trickier... Becky didn't have a good story to tell the troopers if she had been stopped for riding along the county roads at night... but no one noticed, and she made it back to town without incident.
The next few years proved to be far more difficult to deal with. Becky had waited more than a year before directly approaching Matt, feeling that was more than enough time to appear respectful. But the young man proved to be denser than she had counted on. Rather than admit to their love which she knew was waiting to flare anew, he instead clung to Lynn's memory, repeatedly frustrating Becky's advances.
There were times over the months and years which passed when she was tempted to lure him out to the same marsh and push him in, but she calmed herself with the assurance he would come around eventually. Matt can't deny our love forever, she thinks.

And so came this day, this glorious day, when Matt called her and said they had to get together to talk. He suggested meeting at a local cafe, and she readily agreed. With the shower running at the perfect temperature, she removes the towel and steps inside the glass stall and the tub it frames, sighing as the hot water washes over her.
Becky lathers her hair quickly, rinsing the long tresses, then reaches for the lavender scented body wash. She takes her time gliding her now slick and foamy hands over her smooth skin and firm curves, and closes her eyes. Her left hand glides over her breasts as she imagines Matt with her, and sighs again as she feels her nipples stiffen. Her right hand works over her inner thighs and brushes against the blonde furry mound nestled there. Rinsing her hand free of the cleanser, she continues to massage her breasts with her left while her right works her crotch.
"Oh... Matt..." Becky moans softly, gently sliding two of her fingers inside her while using her thumb to massage her clitoris.

Her eyes pop open suddenly. For a moment she is unsure why she has been disturbed. Then it occurs to her. The water. It has stopped.
Becky frowns. It was working a moment ago. Working without hesitation. And now, nothing.
"Of all the..." Becky grumbles to herself. Looking down, she finds the uni-handle faucet still turned on, and the small lever which sends water through the upper shower head still deployed. Puzzled, she leans forward, and begins to unscrew the shower head. Scaling was always a problem in the area, and white mineral deposits were forever clogging...
The pipe suddenly sputters, and a wad of steaming hot muck strikes Becky square in the face, forcing her backwards as she squawks in pain and surprise. She wipes at the slime with both hands, clearing her eyes, while trying to keep the dark matter from splattering on her body.

"What the hell...?" Becky squints at the ooze coating her fingers, rubbing the matter slowly between them. The stuff seems familiar somehow, but she can't quite figure it out. Cautiously, she raises her hand to her nose and sniffs. A familiar reek assails her. Staring at the dark smudges, she has difficulty processing this information.
"How.... this.... this can't..." A loud sound makes her jump. Moments later, an object smacks hard against her left shin, forcing a cry out of her. Just as she realizes it is the bathtub faucet, a thick stream of mud gushes forth, knocking her off her feet.
Falling forward, Becky shifts her weight to her knees, avoiding hitting the tub face first, but at the price of cracking her kneecaps hard on its surface. The mud quickly laps over her thighs and surrounds her hips as it sloshes towards the far side to the tub.

Struggling to regain her footing, Becky grabs hold of the washcloth rack embedded on the side of the wall and manages to haul herself upwards, and out of the reeking sludge. She looks down and stares incredulously at it as it swirls thickly around her ankles and rises up her shins.
"God..." she mutters, then leans against the shower stall door to get out. It doesn't budge.
"What the fuck?" Becky pushes her shoulder against it, and is stunned to discover the door isn't moving at all. She begins slamming herself against it, cursing against the feeling of panic fluttering within her. This didn't make sense, she thinks. The door is only held closed by magnets, and should pop free with only a bit of pressure, yet it holds as firm as if it is welded shut.
"I don't believe this..." Becky says aloud. A loud blurping sound brings her attention back to the tub she is trapped in. The hot mud has now completely filled it to the edge, the sound coming as the broken faucet is submerged in it, and it continues to rise, lapping at the edges of the shower stall's clouded glass doors.

Becky's mind cannot accept what is happening. The weight of the mud alone should have forced open the door, or at least pushed out the glass, but instead it remains intact. The warm slime is over her knees now, and she finds she can barely move. The mud, so fluid when it first invaded her shower, has taken on a thickness more like tar, but it remains slippery underfoot. If I slip in here, I could be smothered by that crap, she thinks, and a horrible realization comes over her.
The shower stall continues to fill with no signs of it stopping. Panic sets in as the mud rapidly climbs over her thighs. Becky slams herself repeatedly against the stall's side, not caring if she shatters it and gets cut to ribbons, but all it does is vibrate in response to the impacts.
She screams for help, flailing against it, squirming at the sensation of liquid earth cupping her buttocks and crotch, then creeping further upwards to swallow the rest of her lower body.

"Someone! Help me!" Becky's cries echo within her bathroom, accompanying the soft blurping of steaming mud which surrounds her waist, and rises rapidly up her curves to slip over her ribs one at a time.
It is when her breasts begin to float in the swirling muck does she come to the conclusion she is going to die. Becky is unable to move, the strength in her arms had drained away earlier and they are now trapped beside her in the thickening ooze. And the mud continues to rise...
"It's not fair... not fair..." she whimpers as her breasts are consumed. "Matt.... oh, Matt...."
As her shoulders slip under, Becky glances through the thin sliver of shower door remaining above the muck. She catches a glimpse of something standing in her bathroom, its image distorted and cloaked by the translucent glass. A misshapen figure sways as if on uncertain footing, and slowly approaches the shower. It was that moment, as Becky's eyes widen in terror, as the mud's surface glides over her mouth and fills her ears, that she prays with all her might... that she would be smothered by the mud before the thing reaches her...

"Damnedest thing I ever seen..." The sheriff shakes his head, trying to clear the image from his mind. A number of deputies crowd the living room, watching as a sheet covered body is carefully rolled out on a gurney piloted by two paramedics. He walks over to one of his officers, an auburn haired young woman whose hair is tied up under her hat. She sees him, and nods.
"You said your boyfriend called this in?" the sheriff asks, and she nods again.
"Yes... Matt was waiting for her at Rosie's... when she didn't show up, he got worried."
"He called you, direct, right?" the sheriff says, scratching his neatly trimmed beard. Another nod.
"He knew I was working tonight, and since we all went to school together, thought maybe I could check in on her..." the deputy said, and shuddered. "He was going to warn her to back off... She had been harassing him for years, and he was all set to get a restraining order..."
"But he didn't?"
"Matt isn't like that...." she said. "He really thought he could reason with Becky.... but he was at the end of his rope. He just wanted to tell her to her face, to try and avoid embarrassing her by getting the law involved..."
Her blue eyes flash with alarm. The sheriff notices her expression and smiles thinly.
"Don't worry, Meg... he's not a suspect. All those folks at the cafe saw him, then there's others seeing him at work... Plus the fact we all know Matt wouldn't hurt a fly..."
Meg smiles briefly, then her face grows grim again.
"What the hell happened here, Dave?" The sheriff shakes his head.
The washroom behind them sparkles with moisture, as one would expect when someone is taking a shower. Save for traces of soap streaking the sides of the bath tub, and the broken fixtures, there was only two signs anything was amiss.
When the officers entered the apartment, they found Becky lying lifeless in the tub. Her body was grotesquely bloated, thin trickles of what looked like mud oozing from her orifices. The medical examiner who arrived on the scene later discovered she was packed full of earth.
"Damned if I know, Meg..." he said, shaking his head slowly. "You'd need a cement mixer to force feed that much muck into someone..."
The only other oddity was the muddy tracks smeared into the tiles of the bathroom floor. They led out of the room. through the apartment and out the front door, trailing off as they headed in the direction of the bayou...

[water_bug_62208]

BRILLIANT!!! This story should be made into an episode for The Twilight Zone. Very enjoyable and thought-provoking! Perfect for a Friday night. Thanks for sharing!

[Viridian]

Many thumbs up for here!

[Aiko]

That's quite an impressive, creepy story you gave us here. It would have made an excellent Halloween quicksand story, but it's still a little early for that.

[qslurker]

That felt like a "Tales from the Crypt" episode. Well done!

[quagmire_uk]

Additional thumbs up over here!

[PM2K]

Thanks for all the kind comments and feed back! Tales from the Crypt is definitely an influence, as you can likely tell... Love that retribution from beyond the grave sort of thing...

Thanks again!

[quickbeard]

nicely done... hmm between this story and grains ok Im outing you- youre the crypt keeper!