Last Chance by Longshot (f, qs, grim) Terri walked down the beach, enjoying the feel of the light breeze against her tan skin as it flowed through her long brown hair. The warm sand felt good against her bare feet. Perhaps being stranded here wasn't so bad after all. Terri looked out at the ocean and sighed to herself. She could still see the remains of her lifeboat where it had smashed against the rocks. There was no escape that way. Then she turned and looked at the lightly vegetated island she was now stranded on. It wasn't anything like the fabulous jungle islands the brochure had promised, a palm tree here and there, with patches of grass spaced about hardly counted as a jungle. She could see something that looked like small oasis or something further on. She shrugged to herself, standing here enjoying the sea breeze wasn't going to accomplish much towards getting her rescued, or towards getting her food and shelter. Terri was a younger woman, in her early twenties. She was alright to look at, not exactly about to win a beauty contest but not a reject from Frankenstein's lab either. She had long brown hair, which was a bit stringy at the moment, half dry after she'd plunged into the water. She was tall and thin, her legs longer than her body, and she swore it made her look like a stork of some sort or maybe a telephone pole that wasn't quite round. Currently she was wearing the remains of a red tank top and blue denim shorts. The tank top had been torn in the wreck though her shorts were mostly intact. They both dripped with sea water and clung to her body like a second skin. Her skin was tanned from several days of laying on the boat. Her feet were bare, the slip on keds she'd been wearing had been pulled off by the raging waters of the ocean. She walked towards the more vegetated area of the island, thinking about how she got here. She'd signed up for a vacation that was offered on a bulletin board at work. A cruise to a tropical island that would last for two weeks. She'd eagerly jumped on the chance, having always wanted to take a cruise, and the cost was too good to be true. She laughed softly at that thought. The third day into the cruise a hurricane had seemed to crop up out of nowhere and ripped the yacht they were on into little bits. She had managed to get to a life boat though the tiny boat was just lifted up and flung out of the storm. Flung right into the rocks where it had ended up. She supposed it was a miracle she hadn't been smashed into tiny bits by the rocks, but a second miracle threw her out of the boat, over the rocks and into the water. She'd seen the small island and swam immediately towards it, letting current and her own strong swimming skills carry her there. She'd passed out on the beach, exhausted, and was been woken by the tide starting to come in. She stopped thinking about then and let her mind focus on the present as she got closer to the area she'd seen from the beach. The vegetation wasn't quite as thick as it looked from the beach, perhaps a light forest of some sort. It was still sandy and most of the trees were palms, but the grass was thicker and she could hear the sounds of a brook running through. A brook meant water, possibly fresh and definitely worth looking into. She padded through the soft sand, kicking it up behind her as she ran through it. She found the brook rather quickly, a beautiful stream of clear blue water. She smiled to herself as she drank, the water was cool and crisp. It felt nice on her parched throat. 'Well, at least I have a water supply,' she considered to herself. 'I suppose I'll have to take a crash course in native house building though.' She settled down by the stream a while, planning how she would do things. Finally deciding the first thing she'd need would be a suitable clearing, she set out to find one. Using the stream as a guide she walked along its sandy bank until she spotted what looked to be a nice large clearing on the other side. It was a large sandy area, large enough to put at least a small one room hut, which was all she'd really need. It wouldn't be like she'd be entertaining guests often. She laughed to herself about that. She glanced about at first, looking for a place to cross before laughing at herself again. "It's a deserted island and I'm a good swimmer, what's wrong with me?" Without further ado she waded into the water. At the center of the brook it was waist deep, it was cold at first but it quickly started to feel wonderful against her bare legs. It didn't bother her that her shorts were now soaked and clinging to her legs, they'd dry and no one was around to see anyway. She walked through the stream and onto the opposite bank, her jean shorts were now a darker shade of blue, and the water droplets on her legs glistened in the sunlight. She smiled to herself. She'd never be able to get away with things like that back home. Perhaps it wasn't so bad here. The ground felt a little wet, but she just shrugged it off, deciding it must be her feet. She began to scout the clearing, noticing that it seemed devoid of plant life. That was just fine by her, it made it easier to set up her new house. The sand would be fine on the floor, she'd get used to it, and it was everywhere anyway. She nodded and smiled to herself approvingly as she walked into the middle of the clearing. Then she frowned, the ground seemed sort of spongy. 'Damn!' she thought to herself. 'I can't build a shelter on this.' She sighed disappointedly and started to walk out of the clearing. Rather, she tried to start to walk out of the clearing. She found much to her dismay that she wasn't going anywhere. Her feet seemed to have dug themselves into the sandy clearing, and it refused to give them back. She tugged at her feet and was shocked by the result. The entire clearing seemed to bob up and down, like her waterbed back home. She felt a sudden lump forming in her throat and sweat begin to form on her brow. "Oh God," she whispered. Thoughts raced through her mind but were suddenly stopped by a strange sensation of a grainy substance rubbing against her legs. She watched as her calves began to descend into the sand. Her mind immediately registered on one word, "Quicksand!" Panic overtook her mind and she began trying to pull her legs free of the sandy trap. She pumped her legs up and down and with each frantic movement it only seemed to drive her deeper into the sand. Quickly the sand engulfed her knees and began on her thighs. Partially due to exhaustion and partially due to the inability to move her legs, she had to stop. As she stood there, slowly sinking, she tried to calm herself and reassess her situation. The sand was up to her lower thighs and now slowly pulling her downward. She couldn't move her legs now, they were too deeply mired. She glanced around her. Other than some overhanging tree branches far above her head, which only provided shade for her to sink in, there wasn't much to see. Certainly nothing that would help her in her current situation. She did notice she was sinking more slowly than when she had struggled, but faster than before she had first stepped into the trap. She could hear the mournful cry of a few tropical birds as she sank slowly. The sand was at her upper thighs now, and she was trying to think of a way out of her trap, with little success. She had no rope, no convenient jungle vines hanging overhead, and certainly not some man who screamed a lot swinging on a vine coming to save her. She was on her own. That thought frightened her even more, and she fought herself to keep her calm. She felt the sand brushing the uppermost part of her thighs and bit her lip. A mixture of fear and erotic emotions were surging through her, though by survival instinct alone, fear won and took over her mind again. Terri struggled wildly, turning her hips in the sand and screaming for help. Her only answers were the angry cries of a few startled birds and the sucking sounds of the hungry sands below and around her. She felt her waist, then her belly covered in the soft, wet sand. Tears streamed from her eyes, and she begged the trees or anyone else in earshot to save her from the quicksand. Though nothing seemed to respond. She stopped struggling, her chest half engulfed and the sand around her worked into an almost liquid state. She continued to cry, pleading for help from whoever was in earshot. She felt her breasts starting to be engulfed, and she looked about frantically, looking for anything that might save her. Just ahead of her she saw a section of the ground that appeared to be solid. It wasn't shifting like the sand around her, and it was just within reach. At least it appeared to be within reach, as she reached out and only felt the soft sand under her fingers. She cried out, the solid looking area was just out of reach. She leaned forward, straining to grab onto the solid ground. She surrendered her breasts to the soft sand, not caring how far she sank. That solid ground was her last chance and she wouldn't give up on it. Terri finally reached the ground, and a scream of triumph turned into terror as her hand sank straight through the solid ground. She'd given most of her body to the sand to reach that patch, and it was just a delusion. She felt the grainy sand against her chin, and she started to cry again. All her efforts had been for nothing, and now she had no chance. She couldn't even lean her head back to escape the quicksand a few more moments. She tried to cry out but the sand flowed into her mouth. Moments later the only thing left on the surface of the sand were a few locks of brown hair which lazily slipped beneath the surface. Then the clearing became still and innocent looking again, the water receding with Terri's hair, disguising itself as a simple beach, a perfect location to set up a house.