Just a Few Minutes Too Late - Male qs, grim

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steve70
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Joined: Thu Sep 23, 2010 5:54 pm

Just a Few Minutes Too Late - Male qs, grim

Postby steve70 » Sat Sep 25, 2010 8:21 pm

This is my first attempt at a short story I write a few weeks ago and posted on another quicksand site, under a different username. It’s probably nowhere near the quality of some of the stories posted here, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. There may be occasional typing errors – if you find one, sorry :oops: !!!

Just A Few Minutes Too Late.
Matt stepped out of his car into the warm spring sunshine. It was late morning, and the temperature had risen noticeably since he left home, so he removed his T-shirt and left it in the boot of his car. Matt was 21 years old, 5 feet 9 inches tall and a keen sportsman – as a result his built was toned and athletic without being over-muscular. He had a light dusting of short, dark hair on his chest, matching his dark, close-shaven hair.

He was off work for the week and, instead of going away for a few days, he was taking day trips. There was quite a lot going on at home and work at the moment, so today he’d opted to go somewhere quiet, to allow himself to wind down. There was a nature reserve next to a meandering river with wide banks, and he’d parked on a small car park provided for the bird-watchers. He made his way down a rough path to the riverbank, passing through the gate provided in the small wooden fence. The place where he’d stopped was a few miles from the sea, so at high tide, the river spanned almost the full width available. Yet the tide was now near its lowest point, making walking along the riverbank easy. As was to be expected for a nature reserve, the area was very quiet except for river noises and the sound of birds – just what Matt wanted.

He removed his shoes and placed them in the small rucksack he’d brought. Then, throwing it over his shoulder, he began to walk along the sandy shore of the river, gradually becoming engrossed in a mental world of his own.

Soon, he’d completely lost track of time – or how far he’d been walking. He carried on walking, vaguely aware that the ground under his feet had that wet, slightly yielding feel common on beaches and riverbanks after the tide had gone out. He was so lost in his own thoughts that, when one of his legs suddenly sank into the soft ground, he didn’t have time to think about the other leg, which quickly followed the first.

He felt a momentary sense of panic, similar to that felt when somebody falls, which quickly receded, and he then assessed his situation. He was standing, almost knee deep – in what? He momentary thought he was stuck in quicksand…but it seemed to be a mixture of sand and mud, perhaps a mixture of wet sand and silt deposited by the river. A bit more like “quickmud” than quicksand. He felt a momentary relief, remembering something he’d once heard – quicksand was usually only a few feet deep.

His optimist faded a bit when he realised he was still slowly sinking. He gently threw his rucksack to what appeared solid ground and then made several attempts to pull one leg free, and then the other, with the only outcome that the quickmud rose rapidly over his knees. He tried pushing down on the ground with both hands, thinking that he may be able to push himself upwards and try to get his legs out, but the area around his legs was also soft, so his hands pushed into the quickmud, not providing anything firm to push against.

He paused. Even though he was physically fit, the combination of exertion and the dull fear that was starting to grow in the pit of his stomach was causing him to breathe faster, and his skin glinted with sweat. The quickmud had by now risen over the bottom of his shorts, and was gripping his legs just below his crotch. He realised that struggling was only making him sink more quickly, so his help would have to come from another source. Being careful to move slowly – rapid movements would make him sink more quickly – he turned one way and then the other, looking for anyone in the vicinity who would be able to help.

A quick look round wasn’t encouraging. He’d wandered a lot further than he’d planned and the area around him was quite remote – he couldn’t see anybody, and the chances of there being anybody close were slim.

The gunk rose up round his groin. Its grip and the sucking sensation it produced on his crotch had an unexpected, embarrassing effect. Even though there was nobody to see what happened, he was relieved as his groin gradually disappeared out of view beneath the surface. He briefly thought that, when people talked about being so scared they nearly wet themselves, it wasn’t that kind of wetting themselves they were talking about.

The quickmud rose over the waistband of his shorts, and was now in direct contact with his skin again, matting the narrow band of hair running from his navel to the waistband. He began to shout for help in the hope that somebody may be close enough to hear him. The quickmud slowly rose over his navel, a small bubble of air escaping as his navel disappeared. It inched up gradually round his abdomen, the muscles of which were now taut, his breathing exaggerated as he shouted for help. As it rose up round his stomach, the pressure against his abdomen made breathing more difficult, making shouting for help more difficult.

By now he’d now sunk just below chest-deep in the mud and breathless, he stopped shouting. A grim realisation was forming in his mind. How deep was this shit – chest-deep, shoulder-deep, or deeper? Was he going to get out at all? His mind was working quickly. Struggling would only make him go under more quickly, and shouting was wasting breath and energy. His only hope was to maximise his chances of surviving for as long as possible.

The quickmud slowly inched over his nipples. Although he’d been keeping his arms above the surface of the mud anyway, he now made a conscious effort to keep them free for as long as possible. Trying desperately to control his fear and his instinctive reactions to his situation, he tried to breathe slowly and steadily – almost like a swimmer preparing for a long spell under water. The quickmud was now pressing against both chest and abdomen, making his efforts even harder.

The gunk rose up to his armpits. It flowed into the valleys formed between his up-reached arms and his neck, and made its way up his upper arms and neck, gradually reaching his chin. He raised his arms as much as he could above shoulder level, and tilted his head back as far as he could, to try to keep his arms, mouth and nose above the surface for as long as possible. His heart was pounding, yet he resisted the intense urge to scream or shout for help one last time.

The quickmud rose over his jaw line. His eyes widened in terror as, due to the position of his head, it rose over both his mouth and ears simultaneously. He became to all intents and purposes deaf to everything except his own pounding heartbeat. He inhaled one last breath as, a couple of seconds later, it rose over his nostrils (“Do I drown or suffocate” was his frantic, desperate thought) and then his eyes – he was now encased in darkness as well as silence.

If he’d been lucky enough for anyone to be close enough to see and help him, they would have seen the lips of the quickmud close over his head, leaving only his up-raised lower arms above the surface. These continued to submerge, gradually sagging as well as sinking. As his hands disappeared, his fingers momentarily clawed at the surface, as if in a last attempt to grab something firm and solid with which to pull himself free. A few seconds of nothing, then a few bubbles of air broke the surface. The kind of think you would expect from the lungs of someone finally forced to exhale after a long period of holding their breath. Then silence.
-----
The two young men made their way to the spot, between river’s edge and the water, where both thought they had seen something. “Are you sure it was here?” one asked. “Yeah,“ the other replied. ”I’m sure I heard someone screaming, it was only faint, but I’m sure it was from here. And when I looked, I was sure I saw some bloke stuck in the mud.”

He glanced round. “Look at that – I told you there was someone here.” He indicated a discarded rucksack a few metres away.

“Look,” the other said suddenly. A few feet away from the rucksack, there was what looked like a slight indentation in soft, almost liquid mud. The surface of the mud appeared disturbed, as if by a struggle, and there were air bubbles on the surface.

A chill ran down both their spines as they came to the same realisation simultaneously. Swallowing hard, his mouth dry, one of them said, “Looks like we got here just a few minutes too late…”

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PM2K
Always Remembered
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Re: Just a Few Minutes Too Late - Male qs, grim

Postby PM2K » Sun Sep 26, 2010 5:33 am

Nicely done! :D Thanks for posting!

steve70
Posts: 50
Joined: Thu Sep 23, 2010 5:54 pm

Re: Just a Few Minutes Too Late - Male qs, grim

Postby steve70 » Sun Sep 26, 2010 4:40 pm

Thanks for the comment, PM2K, I wasn't sure anybody would like it. :D When I posted it on the other quicksand site, someone suggested that there may be somebody who could add illustrations, but I don't know if anybody would be interested or have the time. Oh well, I suppose most people have a good imagination!

umbra_eclipse
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Re: Just a Few Minutes Too Late - Male qs, grim

Postby umbra_eclipse » Mon Sep 27, 2010 3:18 am

NIce Story! Hope to see more.

steve70
Posts: 50
Joined: Thu Sep 23, 2010 5:54 pm

Re: Just a Few Minutes Too Late - Male qs, grim

Postby steve70 » Tue Sep 28, 2010 12:38 am

Thanks. I'm hoping to do more - perhaps not immediately but over time.

snake
Posts: 76
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Re: Just a Few Minutes Too Late - Male qs, grim

Postby snake » Tue Sep 28, 2010 8:13 pm

A F/m scenario would have been cooler, but even so nice job.

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Mwam
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Re: Just a Few Minutes Too Late - Male qs, grim

Postby Mwam » Tue Sep 28, 2010 9:29 pm

Although it was grim, but was extremely cool! :D

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ScruffPup
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Re: Just a Few Minutes Too Late - Male qs, grim

Postby ScruffPup » Tue Oct 05, 2010 7:42 am

Awesome story, love stories with grim horrific endings. :D

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undergrain1
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Re: Just a Few Minutes Too Late - Male qs, grim

Postby undergrain1 » Tue Oct 12, 2010 6:15 am

yeh... my kind of story... no sexual content, other than a muted reference to a panicked physiological response. and well set-up. Thumbs up (just before they sink from view).

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Chimerix
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Re: Just a Few Minutes Too Late - Male qs, grim

Postby Chimerix » Sun Oct 17, 2010 3:37 am

Very nice job!
The difference between theory and reality is that, in theory, there is no difference between theory and reality.


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