Renegade/Blueberry 2004 Quicksand scene

Quicksand death scene from renegade/blueberry 2004, with added music and different sound effects. The cave was quiet. A lone man, Prosit, wanders in search of gold. Creeping footsteps search an empty, desolate underground tunnel. After some time, it pays off - in front of him stands an ancient gold statue. The yellow glow of the monolith glinting in his eyes. He steps forward… …And the ground gives way. Prosit falls down to his waist; a dampness soaks into the fabric of his clothes, gripping tightly around him. It becomes apparent that there is no base, and the ooze trickling up his shirt confirms his fear - he is sinking fast. He reaches out hoping to grab something to pull him out, but there is nothing… just this fluid. Like quicksand but not gritty, more sticky and smooth. Wet. Its slimy texture coats his thrashing hands, pulling at him trying grab something, anything… What is this mud? A bog? The bubbling slime gave off a faint humid smell, like a barn, almost a muddy sulphide smell. It filled his boots and swept into his clothes, making him heavier and sucking him deeper. The further down he went, the harder his heart was beating. A wave of dread, confusion, guilt and powerlessness ate away at him. The sludge was strange. It seemed to play with him somehow. The feeling of it pressing on his skin wasn’t uncomfortable, in fact it was quite warm. Any space or air pocket in his clothes was soon flooded and he was surrounded with the gloop. Prosit sunk deeper and deeper until the mire lapped up to his neck - like a noose tugging him to his grave. Like predator and prey, the quicksand toyed, licking away at him and taunting him, waiting to open its throat to swallow him whole. ‘Please don’t let this be it, please’ he begged to himself. Tears dribbled down, and he could hear the echos of his cries from the walls. There was no one coming to save him. He pathetically wriggled to free himself, a last feeling that maybe, somehow, he would survive, that he could live. But it just plunged him further. There was no hope. ‘God please, I don’t want to die’, but it wasn’t his choice anymore. Up to his mouth now, his mind raced. ‘I don’t want to suffocate, please god!’ He wondered what drowning would feel like. A small amount of mud got into his mouth before he could close it, and he didn’t anticipate its taste - earthy and thick, a taste akin to what the backside of a cow smells like. It was potent, intoxicating, and very soon it would be inescapable. Prosit took one last deep breath through his nose, trying to forget it would be the last fresh air he would ever take. Muck reaching above his nose, eyes tight shut, this is it. Prosit imagines what could have been if he had just gone a different way or just noticed the pool in front of him, if he had never taken that step forward. His fantasy faded as the top of his head was covered over and sealed beneath. The echoing sounds of the cave cut off, leaving only muffled squelches and his unrelenting heartbeat. It was now a waiting game of holding his breath. Any attempt to swim upward only left him in the same spot - the thick consistency rendering him almost in slow motion. Thick, gelatinous, viscous. Still, he tried. Prosit spent his last seconds terrified and defeated; His whimpers muted and barely audible on the top. His body began to fail and convulsed, thrashing until he could hold it no more. Mouth wide open, he gasped and inhaled, the gagged and choked, over and over. No air. Tortured by the flow of muck, yearning for the oxygen that was cruelly only inches above him. As if getting squeezed from all angles, he yelled out the last of his breath. It rose up and plopped as a large bubble on the surface. The bubble leaving the only trace of a man consumed below, resting for a bit, before… pop. Some of the mud he had swallowed, most of it he breathed into his lungs. It tasted like dung, his chest felt tight, hot and strained. He was drowning, fading out of consciousness, fading from life. Finally, the squirming stopped, the fighting ceased. The merciless mud had won, his body never to resurface again. As before, the cave was quiet.