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New Story: 220 I am Not Your Mother [Earth]
 
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dk_angel7
Superior Master Rescuer III
Adept Craftsman


Joined: 07 Feb 2005
Posts: 320
Location: Florida Panhandle

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PostPosted: Thu Jan 18, 2018 4:09 am    Post subject: New Story: 220 I am Zoom Reply with quote

I am Not Your Mother
(F: 18 Years Old, Mud, Strong Melodrama, 23 Pages)
By Dark Angel [Seven]
Original: 12/10/2017

It is called Panentheism, (“pa-nen-theism”) the belief that I (the world) have a mind and soul.

What makes it a type of theism is that some people see that my mind, which is embodied by the planet is God.

Some even call me “Mother Earth”.

So, I am the mind/soul that occupies the earth just like a mind/soul occupies a human or an animal.

I can accept that.

But, it disturbs me when they start treating me as a god worthy of worship and seek no other.

It’s not like I am unchanging or eternal.

I am too complex to be created by chance. So, someone other than me made me what I am today.

I am subject to the same Laws of Entropy. So, everything and everyone falls apart as we age.

The Laws of Thermodynamics state that I am part of a closed universe, which is steadily getting cooler and less hospitable.

I was never eternally complex. So someone had to put me here at some time in the past to get the ball rolling downhill.

I never understood how I would be a substitute for a creator such as the God of this Universe or of everything on the planet – at least.

Most of these people who worship me believe that the cycle of life they see and experience around them is a GOOD thing.

If everyone just did not interfere with the planet and nature on it, everything would be paradise.

Oh really?

Is human influence in earth’s habitat so powerful that it creates earthquakes strong enough to level whole cities? That would make a powerful weapon to use in their wars.

They are only beginning to understand the physics behind volcanic eruptions. But the idea of starting or stopping one would be only part of their Science Fiction for a long time to come.

They know even more about hurricanes, typhoons, and cyclones. They know where they are going and how to build stuff that would stand up to the siege. But to start, stop, and even steer them in the direction they would prefer it to go? They will always keep dreaming of ways to try.

No, my child! That is my dark side!

That is the side of me that can and will kill you the first chance I get.

Regarding life itself?

This so-called circle-of-life includes a large percentage of plants, bugs, and animals that die horrible deaths.

So many are swallowed alive. They die in darkness and the sting of the acid bath of some predator’s stomach fully aware of what has happened to them.

Others have limbs torn off and are gutted alive by another predator.

Others die a slow and horrible death from disease, injury, or starvation.

Some live day by day or moment by moment looking for food just to stay one step ahead of starvation. They do not always succeed.

While my dreamy flock of worshipers ponders the peace, beauty, and flow of nature, some of it wonders if their bodies would make a good meal.

Coyotes, bears, even vultures have eyed them all at one time or another thinking the same thing. The taste of fresh meat from a fresh kill was so hard to find.

Cologne and perfume would make them smell sweet. But the maggots and worms make the smell I like. It is the smell of rotting flesh as it breaks down to become food for my plants.

Even the ground itself could betray them.

It could be as simple as the gooey slime on a rock that would make them slip and fall.

Snakes, foxes, and rabbits like to make their homes in the ground. One day, the ground is safe to walk on. Another day, there is a deep hole there big enough to break your leg if you fall into it.

Streams of water flow through the cracks in my limestone. Eventually, they become great underground rivers that grind out large caverns under the surface. When the top of the hollow gets near the surface, there is not enough solid rock to hold up the ground. A cave-in unexpectedly drops everything into a watery abyss. Trees, houses, and cars, nothing is spared.

Quicksand and quagmires are the ultimate betrayals.

Nothing is more certain than the ground under their feet.

It would always be there for each step they take, usually.

A thin layer of the dry and cracked earth may hide a deep pit of wet and soft mud. Thick soggy ooze entombs both feet as they fall through the dry crust. Once caught, they struggle. They struggle, but they just sink.

The thin mossy surface of a bog may be fun to play on as it pitches and rolls with every jump. But the terror begins when they break through. Then all the fun belongs to me as the horror reaches levels they never thought possible.

The sand on a beach is a haven for vacationers when they want to get away from their troubles. If I can get a spring or other water-flow to soak the sand, flow through it, and get the sand itself to float, the vacation ends. Step into that soggy soup it will hold you like concrete.

It has no care how old, how kind, nor how attractive you are.

It will grab you, hold you, pull you under, and kill you. IF – of course – it was not forced to let you go.

Such was the case the day a quiet young girl, Ciara Flynn, stepped into one of my pits.

She just LOVED walking in empty wilderness areas alone.

In her mind, it was her time to be alone, lost in her thoughts and in communion and union with me, her beloved Mother Earth.

The empty and tall grass filled lake was ideal for her of adventures.

The lakebed provided numerous isolated areas to explore, to be alone and far away from any problems.

This summer, her favorite hangout was the many trails that snaked all through the tall grasses and the clearings that dotted the grassy expanse.

It did not matter what time of day or night. The lakebed provided many locations for her to be alone.

Ciara loved the smell of the moss, grass, and the fresh air as it blew across the lakebed.

She loved the colors of the flowers on the beaches or wherever else water could still be found in and around the empty lake.

Clear summer evenings were lit by a wide array of stars and planets. She would find a soft patch of ground. She would lie on her back waiting for satellites and meteors to cross the sky.

She would try to remember the names of planets, stars, and constellations. She was really good at getting most of them right.

She would wonder if anybody out there had visited from space in the past, now, or were on the way now.

She wondered if there were other worlds out there like me.

When overcast, she would look at the bright spots in the cloud cover. She would try to guess what shopping center, business, or parking lot was under it.

Ciara would lie there and just listen to the sounds.

She would sometimes do it for hours at a time.

She would listen to the winds as they blew through the grasses.

She would listen to the howls and coos of the wildlife that still lived in and around the lakebed.

She was even calmed by the sound of the barking dogs, the different types of music, cars, trains, and aircraft.

All the time, thinking that she was feeling my presence. Even communicating with me at some subconscious level.

The girl spent a long afternoon with a young lad a year older, Markus Callaghan.

They never really got physically close to each other. They never really touched.

They usually remained about three or so feet from each other.

But by their behavior, it was easy to see that they had strong feelings.

Yet for some reason, they either did not know how or want to say it.

They were not that far from the center of the lake.

It was a remote area where few people had traversed.

I was not as familiar with Mark. But in time, I had a really good image of him.

I knew that he was a very sweet guy and a perfect match for a girl such as Ciara.

There was a distinct red tint to his short and well-groomed hair. Two very green eyes dominated his light skinned and freckled face.

It was easy to see that he was on his way back from swimming laps at the community park pool. Sandals and a bluish-green T-shirt was his only covering for nothing more than a modest, multi-shaded green, and smooth nylon Speedo swimsuit.

The rear door to the pool area was up against the shoreline of the lake. That part of the lakebed was filled with tall brush and a single trail leading away from the park.

He saw no need for wearing shorts over his swimsuit because nobody would see you exit the door and disappear down the trail and onto the lakebed to go home.

He was the only one who did this other than his closest friend, neighbor, and team captain who lived only a few streets away.

He had even done it with just a brief swimsuit with no shirt or sandals. The pool area of his home was also right up against a shoreline, as were other houses. So, he would shower or even swim some more.

The fact the lad of average height had the physical build of a good swimmer testified to the point that he had earned the right of wearing such swimwear without looking awkward.

Of course, it was one of the many things that Ciara liked about Mark.

She recently started to come to the pool to watch the swimmers – primarily him.

The two could have been brother and sister, but I knew enough that each came from a different part of the same “homeland”.

Her hair was much longer and thicker. The distinctly reddish and wavy hair laid past her shoulders to her shoulder blades.

Just like Marcus, two greenish eyes dominated Ciara’s light skinned and freckled face.

Her T-shirt was bleached white as was her multi-layered, multi-rimmed, and intricately designed skirt, which ended halfway down her thigh and well above her knees.

Unlike her companion, she wore white tennis shoes apparently knowing that she could easily catch up to him with his bare feet or sandals.

She stood there with both feet firmly planted on the hardened ground. She kept twisting side to side holding both hands behind her back.

A wide smile spread across her blushing face as she could do not much more than stare upward at the young mark’s face.

Talking in somewhat choppy voice, he occasionally looked down at the ground, remove a sandal from a foot, and play with pebbles on the ground with his toes.

The conversation was somewhat awkward. But, it was the same for both.

But just as well, they were lost in each other. So nothing else really mattered at that time.

Nonetheless, there were two things that bothered Mark about Ciara.

First, there was her carefree attitude that even carried into her worldview and religious beliefs.

Be good and do good, then no harm shall come to you.

Second, rumors had already circled about hidden quagmires and quicksand on the lakebed.

A bit embellished, but most of the stories were true. I was there for each and every one of them.

Mark knew that Ciara spent a lot of time on the lakebed.

It was a matter of time before she came across one of these pits.

He brought the issues up a few times and thought that was enough.

Ciara was old enough to be able to take care of her self and stay out of trouble.

He would soon not regret listening to the advice of his closest friend, Carl Leyland. Carl told him that he needed to occasionally go back into the tall grasses and in case she fell into trouble.

Carl made that suggestion because that was exactly what happened to his girlfriend and neighbor, Cindy Hoffman.

They separated when the conversation ended.

Mark went homeward and Ciara turned the other way to spend more time on the lakebed.

*

Ciara spent a long time in a piece of the shade of a small bush, which was once an island on the lake.

The sun began to lower in the sky so it was time to get off the lake.

Many trails led out of the lakebed to home.

It seemed as if rescue dogs were needed to search for her, it would almost be impossible to find her. Her scent would be on each and every trail.

She recently started walking a trail that led past a large opening of dry and crack mud.

This early in the summer, nobody had ever walked the patch since the lake went dry.

She would stop to look across the expanse each time she passed on the trail.

She actually stepped onto it a few times, but she did not walk very far across the surface.

It was a very old and mud filled sinkhole, which was no real danger to anyone unless they stepped into the middle.

Even then, the thick, heavy, and pasty mire hidden under the dry surface posed no real danger.

It would only be a problem if you stood there and worked the ground with your feet.

Then once my paste wrapped around your feet, stood there, and struggled, you might as well be stuck deep in tar.

But that was if you panicked and all thought and reason went out the window.

Would Ciara be just the young girl to do that?

Well considering her tendency to explore new areas alone, profound nativity, and sheltered nature, I could not simply reject that possibility.

So once again, there she stood on the path just looking over this field of nothing but dry cracked earth.

Usually, I could almost hear her mind process, sort, then make a decision on what to do next.

But this time, she just stood there and pondered on her thoughts.

So, I took the time to do my own thinking.

I did not get a real good look at her until now.

Then it hit me hard! I saw what Markus saw in Ciara and why she drove his feelings into a wild confusion.

Reddish tint slightly curled long hair, freckles on a light-toned skinned face, and two deep bright green eyes would kill any young man that would notice her.

She did not weigh much at all. But she was tone and firm. She knew how to take care of herself. She ate healthily, looked healthy, and stayed healthy.

Having watched her for a long period of time throughout her life, I knew that Ciara was the sweetest, kindest, and nicest girl Marcus had ever met.

By the way she dressed, by the way she carried herself, even by the way she walked, she was just a young girl with no evil intent. She was as pure as the bleach white clothing she wore right now.

So there she was, Ciara Flynn just standing there with both arms to her sides and fingers of each hand playing with the bottom rim of her intricate white skirt.

By any definition, DROP DEAD GORGEOUS!

I am sorry Marcus Callaghan.

If I was able to catch her, all that meant nothing to me.

I have my plants to maintain and my wildlife to feed.

The circle of life had to roll and it had no care in the world how kind, ravishing, and innocent anyone or anything was.

She would be a first-class meal for my worms and maggots, as they would turn her dead and rotting body into rich fertilizer for my plants.

But, my hopes would be all for nothing if she just continued her way up the path and homeward.

So, all I could do was to patiently wait and just see what she would do after she stepped out of her mental solitude and acted on a decision on what she was going to do next.

Ok, come to me. Little girl, come to me!

I did notice that she was looking skyward with a look of detached bewilderment across her face.

She was looking at the shadow play of the sun against the clouds, as time grew closer to Twilight.

I thought that she might want to get a better view of the sky.

What better place than the center of my dry looking mud flat.

Then sure enough! It seemed like she read my thoughts!

She took one look across the open expanse, stepped off of the trail, and into the dry and cracked surface of the pit.

Yes! Yes! Come! You can see more from out here!

My anticipation spiked to high off-the-chart levels.

You can see the whole sky from the center!

I loved the thrill of a hunt. In this case, the ambush, to sit and wait till the intended victim fell into the trap!

That’s right! Closer! Yes closer!

Then came my favorite part where the victim desperately fights in vain to escape the grip of the beast as the poor thing is ingested alive and well aware of what was happening to it.

Was this one of these occasions?

I did not know because there was still so much that had to happen for everything to fall into place.

Sure enough, she was briskly walking to the center of my pit.

YEA! YEA! COME ON!

I was so excited, it hurt.

Every once and a while, she would look down at the surface.

She had no clue of what was waiting for her just under her feet.

COME ON! I HAVE SUCH A SPECIAL SURPRISE FOR YOU!

First, I could feel the bottom of her perfectly white sneakers echoes through the solid ground with each firm step.

Then, waves began to cross deep into the pit as she began to tread across the soggier ground.

I realized to a sadistic thrill that the surface itself began to mound and shift with each step.

I did not have words to describe my wild state of mind!

If I had a voice I would have screamed in painful joy as the shifting ground began to throw her off balance.

She gave off a slight shriek when she stumbled forward.

The thin dry ground under her feet began to collapse.

Shock flashed across her face. She was completely taken off guard.

I was in total ecstasy when one foot then the other landed into perfectly thick and pasty muck.

I had to act fast to ensure that Ciara would not be able to escape the grip the quagmire.

So, the whole muddy ground shifted and rolled.

Meanwhile, my thick mud wrapped around each tennis shoe.

Fight it! Fight it! You must fight it!

Once that was done, I just had to be sure that each foot pushed deeper as she desperately tried to pull the other leg free.

Then she stopped.

This gave me a moment to pause to really assess what happened.

This was way too good to be true!

I had the bare legs of a very lovely girl in a death grip of very heavy wet mud.

Her skin was soft and smooth to the touch. It was no wonder why Marcus wanted to hold her hand and caress the cheeks of her face with his fingers.

Her muscles where firm. Long walks and other exercise made them very tender.

She was strong, but not strong enough to break the grip I was going to hold on her body.

She was capable of putting up one hell of a fight for her life.

Looking at the depth and the thickness of the muck that held her, it was going to be a long and vigorous battle.

It was going to be a fight I was ready for and knew I could win.

I was so thrilled. I felt intoxicated with excitement.

There she stood looking down at the mud.

Looking at her face and eyes, she looked lost to what was happening.

I could feel that she was frightened. She felt trapped and confused.

Frightened? Trapped? Confused?

She had NO IDEA what I was going to put her through.

This sweet, naïve, and sheltered girl was not ready to deal with the sheer horror, which was soon to come.

She was going to be slowly swallowed alive by the earth she loved and worshiped.

She was going to be sucked literally kicking and screaming to a painful death. I knew that it was a death so violent that her innocent mind had no ability to comprehend, let alone deal with.

Right now, the only thing she seemed to think about ways to break the grip the pit had on her legs, pull free, and go home.

Ciara looked down at the mud with a look of determination.

She reached down with both hands and grabbed a leg above her knee and began to pull hard.

The whole muddy pit on the surface rolled with each pull. The waves caused by her struggling even reached to the deepest depths of the mud.

This is great! This is great! Keep fighting! Harder! Harder!

She switched her hands to the other leg as soon as she realized that the effort was just forcing the other foot deeper.

This continued back and forth for a while until I had both legs up to her knees.

Her frustration and desperation grew.

I sensed the conflict in her mind as Ciara repressed the realization that struggling was worse than futile.

Better yet, the action rose to the next level when she fought to keep her knees above the sucking mire.

She began to give off frantic but muted grunts and whines as she struggled.

I was gleefully entertained as her cute knees bounced up and down on the surface of the mud.

The mud mounded each time she pulled on a leg. The suction was so strong that the quagmire did not give up an inch as she fought.

I just had to make sure more of each knee was gripped in the paste, as each leg was forced deeper.

Fear, dread, and desperation intensified and began to push her rather low limits of tolerance.

Her thinking was still in terms of many hours, through the evening, and even into the next day before she was free of the quagmire and on her way home.

The thought that she was caught in a lethal quicksand DID cross her mind but very quickly repressed as too horrifying to entertain.

Not wanting to be stuck, alone, and be exposed to the elements overnight – Ciara panicked.

I was already ready, waiting, and eager for the fight.

The look of real fear began to show from the frantic look from her eyes and the strain on her face.

I could feel the desperation burn through her body as she rapidly jerked her body left and right.

I could hear her muted and choppy screams as they echoed off of the ground and outward across the pit.

I could see her wide terrified eyes watch as the whole mudflat rolled and shifted to fight her efforts to escape.

I tried to make the agony last as long as possible. But even I could not prevent the inevitable.

BLOOP!

That was the last time she would ever see her knees again, so I thought.

The thrill of victory was so stimulating. Sensing her agony of defeat was even more invigorating.

She looked down at her legs in morbid shock, dread, and fear.

Her knees were mine now. But there was so much more of her body I wanted to steal from her.

I had all night to do that.

Time was on my side. I was going to use as much of it as I could to slowly suck her deeper.

Then POW!

I was suddenly caught off guard.

There was an explosion of desperate gasps, screams, and struggling.

Ciara had flashed into a wild, mindless, and uncontrolled panic.

She violently twisted and turned as she thrashed her entire body side to side, up and down, and back and forth.

She pulled on each leg as hard as she could.

The whole pit moved in the chaos wildly rolling from the surface to the deepest part of the pit.

A deep and hardcore fear radiated from her face and eyes.

Her mind was filled with nothing but desperation and terror.

Both hands flew through the air as she violently twisted and turned.

Desperately wanting to scream, all she could do was to give off muted whines, heavy gasps, and even a few heavy grunts.

All I had to do was to hold on to each leg as it was pulled deeper into the mire by the suction.

Once again, she stopped.

For a moment, Ciara just stood there with both hands off to her sides.

Her muscles relaxed and her heart slowed with each deep breath.

The storm that tore through her mind began to calm so she was starting to be able to think straight again.

She then slowly turned side to side as she looked down at the thick mud that held her legs.

She had sunk to the point where the bottom rim of her cute, elegant, multi-rimed, and bleach white skirt barely touched the surface of the mud.

After a moment of pondering, she lowered her hand and gently caressed the soggy earth around her legs with the tips of her tender fingers.

She lifted her hand to look at each finger.

A vile wave of repulsion rolled through her body as she desperately shook her hand to get the mud off her fingers.

She did not want to wipe her hand on her T-shirt because it would no longer be bleach white.

It was that moment I recognized something very peculiar about Ciara.

As much as she wanted to “commune” with and become “one” with her “Mother Earth”, she could not stand getting muddy.

How can one be “at one” with mother earth and stay bleach white?

She always wanted to deal with me under HER terms.

Oh really?

Ciara, you WILL get muddy!

You WILL get your wish to commune with and be “at one” with your precious god and be part of the “circle of life” but under MY terms!

All you are to me is a carcass, which will be the next meal for my maggots and worms so they can provide the nutrients to grow my plants.

Pockets of gas and water under her shifted.

Mud fell into the space water left as it moved off to the side.

Gasses rose up from the mud as the pit shifted and rolled eventually popping on the surface.

The shifting mud produced suction, which eventually reached her legs.

Suddenly with no help from Ciara, she slipped two inches deeper into the pit and the bottom of her skirt began to gather on the surface.

There was a muted scream. It was music to my ears.

A repugnant wave of shock and terror flooded her body.

Both hands frantically waved in the air above her as she looked at the ground around her.

The desperation radiated from her face and shined from her precious eyes as her mind worked on escape plans. Each plan being ruled out almost as soon as they came up.

I was trying to impress upon her that she was stuck in was no ordinary pool of mud.

It was way more sinister than that.

Eventually, the deadly nature of her ordeal began to come into her focus.

I was thrilled when the morbid realization that something underneath was pulling her downward became very prominent. She could not repress the thought anymore.

Despite all repulsion to mud, Ciara dropped her hands and began to push downward on the surface.

She leaned backward to push on dry solid mud that had not broken in the struggle.

I became a bit alarmed when she came to some realization that she could escape if she fell on her back and worked her legs out.

But she was too clean. The last thing she wanted right now was to lay back into a bed of soft gooey mud.

She grunted and groaned as she twisted and pulled on her legs.

Her efforts seemed to be working when she pulled herself a few inches out of the pit.

Oh no, Ciara! I am not going to give you up THAT easily.

Her anxiety grew as she realized that she was not extracting herself as fast as she wanted.

The sounds of popping and shifting mud assaulted her ears and rattled her nerves.

Baby, I got things FAR worse than that. What you are experiencing is just child’s play to me. You are a toy to me. My entertainment as just begun.

I began to caress the bare skin of her legs with tentacles of water, soft muck, and air bubbles.

A gross feeling rolled throughout Ciara’s body, which was followed by a strong, repulsive, and cold feeling of rejection.

She did not want any part of what she was feeling and experiencing.

She was in no position to have a choice. Her legs belonged to me now and I was not going to let go.

I was right about Ciara. She was never a disappointment.

The fair skin of both her legs were so soft and smooth to the touch.

The muscles of her calves and thighs were like the highest quality prime rib.

I have watched as so many lions and other predators lick their food before they bite it just to savor the taste.

I was experiencing that glorious feeling as she fought to break free of my slobbering muck.

She put up a wonderful fight against the grip of my pit.

Eventually, she exhausted herself and stopped struggling and pushing.

It was my turn! It was my turn to really show who was in control of the situation.

The powerful suction created by her fight steadily pulled her legs back into the pit.

The surface of the mire drew closer to her body pulling her skirt against her legs.

Then as if in one big gulp, the earth closed over the lower rims of her skirt and pulled her in deeper.

Another intense wave of terror rolled through her body and mind. It was far beyond what she had ever felt in her entire short life.

The intensity of the pain was so powerful that her eyes seemed to bulge as she watched and felt herself be pulled back into the mud.

I was amazed by how much entertainment a spotless, sheltered, and naïve a young virgin girl could provide.

It was a thrill watching her deal with something so horrifying that it was well beyond anything she could comprehend.

The intensity of her agony was so energizing.

The sound of her crying was so refreshing.

I could continue. But, I digress.

In desperation, she leaned back again and pressed on the earth behind her.

The ground began to break up and the mud oozed between her fingers, but it was solid enough for her to push on to pull her legs out of the mire again.

Her thoughts had gone long past the hope that she would be stuck in the middle of nowhere till daylight.

Ciara finally realized that something far more sinister was happening to her. But, her mind still refused to fully comprehend the obvious. She was caught in a lethal quicksand.

There were loud gasps and sobs, as she looked downward at the muck in a deep horror.

Tears began to fall from her eyes and roll down her tight stressed face.

There were hard grunts and twisting of her hips as she pulled on her legs. But, I was unwilling to freely give up what the quicksand had already swallowed.

Rim by mud stained rim, more of her skirt pulled free of the mud with her legs.

The pit complained by popping and gurgling as some of the suction broke allowing more of her legs to pull free.

Chunks of mud fell off her lap and back onto the ground where each one would merge back into the soggy earth.

It triggered a wave of nausea in her stomach. It was another reaction from her that I truly enjoyed.

But then, there was no more solid earth behind her to push upon for leverage.

As it happened before, her legs and her skirt slid back into the pit.

She desperately sobbed as she frantically pushed down on the mud with her hands and feet.

No amount of pushing and struggling would prevent it.

Another strong wave of nausea twisted the insides of her body, hard.

A rush of sheer terror screamed through her young, tender, and innocent mind.

She wanted to scream. But, the only sounds that came out of her mouth were loud chokes as her throat refused to let go of the maelstrom.

Again as it happened before, I made sure more of her body was swallowed than she fought to break free.

Both legs vanished in a loud sucking slurp as the pit began to consume her hips pulling more rims of her precious skirt under.

Ciara leaned forward to press whatever solid ground she could find in front of her.

Her mind was filled with nothing but pure desperation and terror as she kept switching her hands in the hopes of finding any earth that was more solid.

Tears poured down her face as she began to sob, loudly.

The surface of the muck shifted with her twisting hips and waves pulsed outward as she pulled on her legs.

“Help me? Help me?”

She quietly begged between desperate groans with her sweet and soft voice.

“Help me. Help me. Please, help me.”

Is that the best you can do, Ciara? You were an easy catch. You are going to be an easy kill.

Unlike leaning backward, there was no leverage forward.

Gasping, grunting, and groaning, there was nothing she could do to prevent the rest of her rocking hips slowly and gradually slip deeper into the soft mud.

She looked downward just in time to see the very top of her lovely, intricately designed, and multi-rimmed skirt vanish into the soggy earth.

Every predator lives for the fight a prey puts up as it fights for its life.

Every predator longs for the intoxicating fear and dread a prey feels as it realizes that its fight is in vain.

Then the predator feels a glorious feeling when the prey clearly knows that a horrible death was only a matter of time away.

But the reality was that it could not last forever.

The end goal was ingestion and digestion, so we had to move to the next step of the process.

So, there she was. Ciara was still and not moving.

Tears rolled from her eyes, streamed down her face, then fell onto the surface, as she looked downward.

It was still a wonder why she cringed as she watched the dingy muck soak into her bright white T-shirt around her waist.

She would sink a little bit deeper with a few twists and pulls on her legs

Then the soggy muck would soak into more of her T-shirt.

Again, shaking off mud from her hands, Ciara looked upwards at the clouds in the sky as they begin to darken in the setting sun.

Her heart pounded and she was breathing deep breaths of air.

She still had a long ordeal ahead of her.

So, I was glad when she relaxed to regain her energy for whatever happened next.

Occasionally, she ran her arm across her face to wipe off a tear.

A bit of mud here or there on her face and in her hair marked spots where she failed to keep her precious face free from stain.

It was at this point that I felt that Ciara fell into a moment of clarity.

Her mind cleared and body relaxed as if she had reached a point of surrender.

Heart slowed, lungs relaxed, and stomach unwound as she looked at the tall grasses and mud around her.

Her mind was in a calm meditative state of nothingness for a moment.

Nothing she tried to do to escape from the quagmire worked.

Furthermore, everything she thought and believed in seemed to be in question.

She was a clean, good, and sweet girl. Why was something this horrible happening to her?

It seemed that she wanted to start her entire thought process from a blank sheet of paper.

With both hands helplessly off to her sides, she opened her eyes and looked straight down at the ground in front of her.

She had sunk halfway up her waist in the thick, chunky, and soupy muck.

She watched it move around her body with each breath she took.

I waited in eager anticipation of what she was going to do next.

She balled both of her fists, closed her eyes, and dropped her head forward with chin against her chest.

Her face began to tighten and more tears began to gather in her eyes.

A powerful wave of deep sorrow filled her mind and flowed through her body.

The sweet sound of whimpering echoed across the pit as Ciara cried.

She had come to fully realize what kind of situation she was in.

This was not a mud puddle in which she fell into then quickly drags herself out.

This was not a quagmire in which she becomes stuck and required some help to get out.

This was a lethal quicksand which would swallow her alive if she failed to escape it.

There was no way out. She had passed the point of no return.

It would be very lonely, slow, and miserable death with no one around even to comfort her.

The earth itself which she had come to adore had turned against her.

She counted each family member as they came to mind and went through each person’s reaction to the news that she had not only vanished but also vanished without a trace.

It was a thought that made her shudder with a deep morbid sorrow.

She counted each of her friends and their reactions as well.

For a moment, the sense of loss and bewilderment was so strong that it locked her mind in a moment of deep misery.

Once again, she began to sob and sob hard.

Then there was Mark, ever so sweet Markus.

Each thought brought an unbearable pain as she recalled each moment of time she had spent alone with him.

Not only did she realize how deeply she felt for him; she had finally came to realize that he had the same feelings for her.

She shook her hands again as all her emotions built up. The tears rolled off her face and fell to the earth.

A tear filled scream shook her body, the mud, and the earth around her when realized that she would never have a chance to see them, talk to them, or even say goodbye.

She even grabbed the hair on both sides of her head with her mud-stained fingers when she recalled the times Mark had warned her about the quicksand and quagmires that were scattered across the lakebed.

Of course, it was a warning that she willingly tossed aside with the fleeting thought of an innocent young lady who believed that she was good and thus immortal. Nothing bad could or would happen to her.

It would be a while before she calmed down again.

She would again, wipe the tears from her face.

Then for the first time, Ciara and I connected.

“Why?” A soft and tear-soaked voice asked me. “Why?”

The conversation would only be one way. Just the way I wanted it.

*

Ciara, oh Ciara, you are so beautiful. You are such a trophy.

Your struggling excites me. Your morbid terror is intoxicating.

Your tears are like a sweet wine and the sound of your crying is music to the ears.

You are strong and healthy, but not strong enough to escape the grip of my quicksand.

Yes, it is a quicksand and I will suck you under and leave no trace behind.

You are such a sweet and kind person. You have gone out of your way to share kindness and caring.

There is no thought of evil or harm within you and run from those thoughts at every opportunity.

Your sweet soft voice and smooth mannerisms show what kind of wonderful person you are.

I know that Markus is someone whom you would like to spend the rest of your life with.

He would have been a very lucky man.

The two of you would do so well together. The two of you were made for each other. The two of you were such soul mates.

But, that will never happen. I have you now and I will never let you go.

The muscles in your legs are strong, firm, and tender.

Your skin is so silky smooth. It drives me wild as my tentacles slide across your firm legs.

I want you all to myself.

Nobody else will ever have you or see you ever again.

Oh, precious girl. You are now mine. You are mine now forever.

*

Maybe I said too much or too little.

Maybe I should have left out some details or even added some.

I did not get the results that I expected.

Ciara had already shown that she could put up that fight. She was strong and healthy enough to put up a LONG hard fight.

She did not move. All her muscles were as tense as they could be. Both hands were in front of her in the grip of tight fists.

Her whole body shook.

Eyes closed tight, a wild storm grew in her mind.

There were no thoughts. It was just an entertaining combination of agony, pain, and intense fear all building to an explosive climax.

DAMN, THAT GIRL HAS A SET OF LUNGS!

Quiet and soft-spoken, she apparently could let off quite a storm if she finally realized that she was in mortal danger.

I never saw that coming. Then, of course, it was the furthest thing from her thoughts not that long ago.

This is how I lost Cindy Hoffman and others. Their screaming drew too much attention to themselves and their situation. It was not long before that other swimmer named Carl Leyland was drawn to Cindy’s screams and pulled her out of my grip.

I had to work fast. I had to get her to stop screaming and break into a full panic.

I shifted some mud deep underneath her feet and sent some fresh and smelly gas bubbles up the bare skin of her legs.

It was enough to get her attention and draw her back to her most immediate task of fighting suction of the quicksand.

Ciara frantically lifted one leg then the other pushing a foot downward each time the other leg was up.

She threw her arms to each side as she twisted her body.

Her mind was in a full irrational and glorious panic.

Her soft but desperate whines and grunts were quiet enough.

I had to keep her quiet. Too much noise would attract people whom would realize what kind of trouble she was in.

I just had to keep her quiet until she had sunk enough to choke on mud.

Two wide, green, and blood-shot eyes on a tight red face blindly looked at the rolling pit around her.

Sobbing tears continued to flow down her face and splash onto the soft mire around her.

Her waist vanished into the soggy earth with a whoosh of bubbles and shifting muck.

She covered her face with both hands and gave off a muffled but loud scream that shook her body.

She then pulled her hands away to look downward, then to the left, then the right.

Both hands clawed at empty air around her. She looked upward and set off another hellish scream.

By this time, I sensed two bare feet pounding down a nearby trail. I already knew who it was and why he was here.

Once again, my luck ran out and Marcus was on the lakebed again. He just realized that Ciara was in lethal trouble.

The fact that only one of many trails lead to Ciara was in my favor.

I just had to keep her in a violent struggle. She would be to busy fighting a losing battle for her life to scream.

Screams may echo to add to Marks confusion. But, he would eventually find the source and pull his sweetheart free of my grip.

Yet if everything was timed just right, I would have the perfect kill.

Imagine the glorious agony he would feel as he only arrived just in time to see Ciara’s gorgeous red hair on the top of her head or the fingers on a hand vanish into the earth.

Imagine the sweet anguish he would endure clawing at the wet earth as Ciara’s last air bubbles popped on the surface.

Another shift in the mud deep underneath her feet sent a surge of water upward. Bubbling and flowing, it broke onto the surface.

“No! No!” A shrieking scream echoed across the lakebed. “No, please no!”

She slowly slipped deeper as both hands waving in front of her face as if she was trying to ward off a demon.

The quicksand reached upward and climbed up two more ribs on her chest.

Desperate shrieks punctuated grunts and groans as Ciara pushed downward several times with her hands and feet as she tried to lift her way out of the sucking death trap.

She frantically shook both hands-free of mud, looked upward, and let out another howling scream.

Ok, Markus definitely should have heard that one!

She lifted her legs as if she was trying to climb out twisting from side to side with each leg.

She was now up to her chest. She grabbed the hair on each side of her head.

Her mind was so filled with a mortal terror that there was no organized thought or awareness of what was around her.

The only thing that came close to any train of thought were visions of the horrible death that awaited her when her golden face vanished into the earth.

Two sweet, watery, wide, and bloodshot eyes look upward as both arms fall into mud in front of her.

She could only wildly, loudly, and uncontrollably sob.

This was enough noise for Mark to find Ciara.

Sure enough like any good lifeguard in training, he brought a good length of rope.

He dropped his sandals next to a large log he had just located in the grass and began to tie one end of the rope to the driftwood.

I was a bit humored that Ciara had no idea that her sweet and lovable Markus was behind her.

Unlike when Carl rescued Cindy, Mark did not call out to Ciara for some reason.

He just stepped closer to her as he laid out the rope across the dry and cracked mud.

She just wildly shook her head and screamed as she slammed her arms down and into the soft mud in front of her in frustration.

Ciara whined in terror and began to claw at the mud in front of her.

She jerked her body forward and backward. The ground around her mounded and sank as her legs struggled against the suction underneath.

“Ciara, don’t move!” Mark called out. “You are making it worse.”

Controlled, he was not scared. He just knew what he had to do to rescue his maiden-in-distress.

Her mind was so filled with a storm of panic, chaos, and horror that his words did not even register in her mind.

“CIARA! DO NOT MOVE!”

“Mark? Mark?” Looking from side to side in a moment of confusion. “Mark, where are you?”

Mark had crouched down low with the end of the rope carefully coiled in his had.

He gently tossed the rope and it smoothly uncoiled.

“Crap!” It lands two feet short of Ciara’s back.

He rightfully assumed that she is so stuck in the mud that she was unable to turn around to reach for the rope. She would not even know it was there.

“MARK! MARK!” Her sobbing cries call out unaware of how close he really was. “HELP ME! PLEASE!”

His basic lifeguard training kicks in.

Reach? Too far!

Throw? Too short!

That left one option. Go!

“MARK! MARK!” Ciara desperately cried begging for help. “WHERE ARE Y---!”

His timing could not be any better.

He pulled off his T-shirt, dropped it to the ground, and took a few steps backward.

Steps forward broke into a short run.

After a leap, Mark’s legs splashed into the mud directly behind Ciara.

She briefly screamed in shock being unaware that anyone was even close to her.

Sitting on both legs, he wrapped both arms under Ciara’s arms and across her chest.

She could only lean her head backward onto Marks chest and gasp for air as her heart slammed in her chest.

It was a while before Ciara relaxed and caught her breath as Mark’s soft voice worked to calm his sweet girl down.

Eventually, she calmed down.

As her panic left the emotions built up.

The tears began to roll again as she began to cry.

The tension fully released and she began to sob.

“It’s ok. It’s ok. Let it go. Let it go. You are not alone.”

Mark sank into the mud as he sat on both legs. He was just deep enough to hold her tight, put his chin on her shoulder, and speak softly to her.

“I’ve got you now. You are safe. You are going to be ok.”

It took a while before Mark to get Ciara to stop crying.

The long ordeal of extracting her began.

Mark had one hand on the rope as he helped Ciara break the suction the muck had on her legs.

He had no problem with the ordeal. He knew the dangers of a quicksand and knew how to get out of one.

He was greatly disturbed almost to the point of crying over how Ciara was traumatized. He had to spend a lot of time calming her down and reassuring her that she was going to get out.

Wishing no harm on her, he had a difficult time dealing with how the ordeal had tormented the sheltered girl.

He was not prepared with the deep feelings that surface when he realized her depth of her anguish.

He also had to come to terms with how he really felt about Ciara.

She could have horribly died. That fact made him stop a few times to shake his head and take a moment to refocus on the rescue attempt.

He spent a lot of time reassuring Ciara that he was NOT going to stop until she was free and on solid ground.

Eventually, Ciara’s legs were free. Both had turned around in the mud and had a solid grip on the end of the rope.

I made sure they had a hard time pulling themselves free. I was fighting to the very end to keep what was rightfully mine.

They were exhausted when they finally extracted themselves.

They just laid flat on the cracked earth next to each other still hanging onto the rope. Mark’s arm was across Ciara’s back as she sobbed hard face down in the dry earth.

The days when the couple would stay sheepishly three feet from each other were gone.

From then on, they were side by side, hand by hand, or arm across each other’s back when both were in the same room or place.

With her worldview damaged, Ciara spent many months looking over her shoulder for whatever was lurking around a corner or in the dark.

But, she had recovered from the accident a changed and wiser girl.

I have to admit. I am quite a matchmaker.

Nothing brings more things into focus than a brush with death.

Very few encounters match the long and agonizing trial that a lethal and thick quicksand would serve to those unaware of the full complexities of life and even death.

Nothing shines more light on a relationship than the realization that someone who you had hidden deep feelings for could have been dead by morning.

I look at the numbers of people who have crossed the lakebed already. Then there are people who would take the shortcuts after the encouragement of friends and family.

Many of these people were in relations themselves.

Carl Leyland solidified his relationship with Cindy Hoffman when he had to carry her off the lakebed.

Markus Callaghan also secured his relationship with Ciara Flynn after she had to be carried off the lakebed.

So many of other couples need to understand the depth of their relationship.

I just need to entice them onto the lakebed with the chance for solitude and a chance for the two to be alone with each other.

So many people can use the trails across the lakebed as a shortcut between the county park and other neighborhoods.

Many of these people need to understand what is really important in life.

Between the number of people who have and will make the crossing and the number of mud pits that are in their way, I have plenty of opportunities to provide these services.

Then maybe, just maybe I can get my own trophy girl to love and cherish.

My worms and maggots would enjoy the feast as well.
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dk_angel7
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PostPosted: Thu Jan 18, 2018 4:15 am    Post subject: Re: New Story: 220 I Zoom Reply with quote

Ciara Flynn
As of January 16, 2018

Lost Lake Short Stories

220 I am Not Your Mother [Earth]

Physical Description

Age 18
Hair
Length To shoulder blades.
Thickness Average
Color Red
Texture Wavy
Eyes Green
Height 5’0”
Weight 120 lb.
Skin Soft textured, white, no tan, with freckles.

Physical Health
Above average for an 18-year-old girl.

Physical Characteristics
Voice Somewhat quiet. Never really loud or outspoken.
Walk Nothing outstanding.

Style of dress Common for 18-year-old.
Not revealing, but shorts can be short.
She could reach the bottom rim of her shortest skirts with her fingers if her arms were by her sides.
Common clothing. T-shirts often. Usually white or another light color.
Not very stylish at all.
Headgear: Not often. White hat with flowers.
Makeup Rarely uses makeup.

Background

Where Born Local to “Lost Lake” area. But parents are from Ireland.
Family Member Has siblings and both parents.
Friends General neighborhood friends but is usually a solitary person.
Education Above average at a two-year college.

Psychological Mind Set

Attitudes Easy and outgoing when comfortable with the group, but usually quite.
Prefers to be alone more often but does well with groups she has become familiar and comfortable with.
Does not like to draw too much attention to self.
Very nice, sweet, and kind.

Strengths She cares about other people and charitable. Related very well with the younger members of the extended family and friends when they felt somewhat out-of-sink with the general college-aged members of the social network.

Weakness Difficulty in initiating deep relationships. Very close to Mark Callaghan but somewhat distant to other people.
Somewhat unconcerned about what other people think.
Naïve, sheltered, and idealistic with a utopian worldview. Nothing ever bad happened to people who were good and kind.

Hobbies and Interests

Environmentalism and panentheism [worship of mother earth as a living entity]

Impact of the “Lost Lake” Summer

The suddenness and the near-death nature of the accident was a psychological blow. She saw herself as too good and too kind of a person to have anything bad happened to her.
The “why” she ended up in a lethal quicksand caused her more problems than the “how”. She was greatly confused about why the earth itself failed to protect her from itself and from what bad things happen in real nature.

She finally realized the true violent nature of nature and eventually rejected panentheism and pantheism as well as void of any true sense of good and evil.

Current Social Links

Markus Callaghan Enjoys parties and gatherings but does not want to be center of attention.
Average popularity.
Was not thinking of a very close relationship. Ciara caught him off guard.
Agrees with common conservative family values as does Ciara Flynn.
Mark was a bit nervous around Ciara Flynn because she evokes deep feelings. However, Ciara was more certain about the relationship is given how much the two had in common and how often Mark liked to be with her.
Developed deep feelings for Ciara because she was so much like her and often thought in similar ways, save religion.
One of Carl Leyland’s swim team members.

Carl Leyland Only knows him as “boyfriend’s” swimming team captain.
Carl’s dominating personality is intimidating to Ciara. She is uncomfortable around him.
Cindy Hoffman Became good friends and member of her inner circle. But, still a bit distant. It causes a level of concern in Cindy. Cindy continues to work to get Ciara out of her shell.

Billy Shepherd Not so sure of how to relate to him given his well-known negative past. Noticed that he had recently changed for the better and willing to give him another chance.
Sara Ann Peterson Inner circle good friend with Cindy Hoffman. Was not sure how to relate to Sarah given Sarah’s negative past of her now dead older half-brother. However, Sarah can relate much closer than Cindy to Ciara’s tendency to be aloof. Often a shoulder for Ciara to cry on and a source of great relief if Ciara needed someone to talk to about getting feelings to the surface and out into the open.

Kathy Lockwood Ciara is the go-to adult when the child felt a bit aloof from the older core of the group. Just one of many kids that gather around Ciara when the extended group is together.

Tammy Bennet Same as Kathy Lockwood.
Ricky Atkinson Same as Kathy Lockwood.

Rose Jane Peterson-Smith Same as Kathy Lockwood.

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dk_angel7
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PostPosted: Thu Jan 18, 2018 4:24 am    Post subject: Re: New Story: 220 I Zoom Reply with quote

Markus “Mark” Callaghan
As of January 16, 2018

Lost Lake Short Stories

220 I am Not Your Mother [Earth]

Physical Description

Age 19
Hair
Length Cuts it after it completely grows over ears. Never reaches near shoulders.
Thickness Average
Color Red
Texture Wavy
Eyes Green
Height 5’6”
Weight 150 lb.
Skin Soft textured, white, no tan, with freckles.

Physical Health
Above average for a 19-year-old. Muscular, due to many years of competitive swimming.

Physical Characteristics
Voice Somewhat quiet. Never really loud or outspoken.
Walk Nothing outstanding.

Style of dress Common for 19-year-old.
As a competitive swimmer, he tends to wear modest Speedo-style swimsuits. When home alone usually wears one long before or after swim practice or meets.
Common clothing. T-shirts often.
Not very stylish at all.
Headgear: Baseball cap only if it gets cold. But, usually not.

Background

Where Born Local to “Lost Lake” area. But parents are from Ireland.
Family Member Has siblings and both parents.
Friends General neighborhood friends but is usually a solitary person.
Education Above average at a two-year college.

Psychological Mind Set

Attitudes Easy and outgoing when comfortable with the group, but usually quite.
Prefers to be alone more often but does well with groups she has become familiar and comfortable with.
Does not like to draw too much attention to self.
Very nice, sweet, and kind.
Unconcerned about what other people think.

Strengths Good student and reader. Overall a very kind and caring individual. Good health due to many years of competitive swimming.
Fairly current on local, national, and world activities.

Weakness Difficulty in initiating deep relationships. Usually keeps to self. Was in denial but became very close to Ciara Flynn but somewhat distant to other people.

Hobbies and Interests

Conservative politics and current events. Competitive swimming.

Impact of the “Lost Lake” Summer

After deeply thinking about life if Ciara Flynn would have died this summer, he had to seriously reconsider how seriously he had fallen in love with her.
He then began to follow through with a much deeper and closer relationship with her.
He also spent much more time helping Ciara through her crisis as she totally reevaluates her beliefs and worldview after her accident on the lakebed.

Current Social Links

Ciara Flynn Ciara was much more aware of Marks deep feelings for her long before he was forced into a position to admit and deal with it.
Agrees with him about common conservative family values.
Ciara LOVED to be around Mark most of the time. She went to swimming meets and many of his practices just to watch and be with him.
Developed deep feelings for Mark because she was so much like her and often thought in similar ways, save religion.
Mark’s biggest supporter in swim meets save his own family.

Carl Leyland Mark is a close friend of Carl. Respects him as a strong leader. Usually goes to Carl for advice for many issues.
Cindy Hoffman Became friends but still a bit distant. Cindy’s personality was a bit too strong for Mark.

Billy Shepherd Became good friends. Easily reliable due to common core beliefs and above average difficulty in dealing with people in general.

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