Quicksand Fans

Marco paced back and forth impatiently. He had spent weeks assembling his new ancient Egypt-themed exhibition, containing numerous priceless artifacts and replicas, something he pitched as being appealing to both historical aficionados and young children. But, before he publicly opened, he needed to get some good press, and he knew just who to invite. Soon enough, they arrived.

“Miss Sanders, Miss Clarke,” he said, shaking their hands. “It is my pleasure to welcome you to my new museum.”

“Strange place for a museum,” Quicky muttered, looking at the small exterior, her comments drawing an annoyed look from Victoria.

“Oh, it’s much bigger on the inside,” Marco assured her, welcoming the two reporters inside.

“Wow!” Victoria gasped, looking at the displays of weapons, masks and pottery. The building was separated into several adjoining rooms, each one with specific theme: the Nile, the Pyramids, and a smaller room, which Marco dubbed the Desert.

“These are probably all fake,” Quicky whispered to Victoria. “There’s no reason why someone would open a museum in the middle of nowhere.”

“Calm down, Sanders,” Victoria replied. “Geez, not everyone is connected to the mob. Isn’t it nice to be enjoying some ancient exhibits rather than trudging around in the swamp?”

“Ladies, if you come this way,” Marco said, seemingly oblivious to Quicky’s boredom. He led them into the Desert room which, disappointingly, didn’t look much different to the others, featuring some old-fashioned columns, some rather generic-looking murals and some pottery and statuettes of cats.

“This is getting ridiculous,” Quicky said, rolling her eyes at Victoria’s admiration of cat statuettes. “Come on, you see more cats on Facebook.”

“Oh, you have no appreciation for art and history,” Victoria rebuked. “I’m sure there’s a story to each one of these pieces. Speaking of which, where’s Marco?”

He seemed to have disappeared while Victoria was ogling at cats. The lights flickered momentarily. Then, rather ominously, thick security doors slammed shut, sealing them inside the room.

“Did Marco trip the alarm?” Victoria wondered.

There was a soft sound coming from somewhere in the walls. Slits opened up, and a torrent of fine sand began pouring into the room.

“I guess this is why they call it the Desert room,” Sanders quipped. “And I don’t think this is part of the exhibit.”

The doors were tightly sealed and no amount of budging could get them open. There was nothing on the side that seemed to indicate an emergency release. The room had been purposely designed to prevent communication from the inside. Banging on the doors had no effect. It was quite obvious that Marco had set them up. The sand was up to their knees.

“There must be a way out,” said Victoria. “Don’t these rooms normally have some kind of puzzle?”

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” said Sanders. She pointed to the slits where the sand was pouring from. “We could block them. That could buy us from time.”

“There’s nothing here but cat statuettes,” Victoria observed.

The room continued to fill with sand. Was there any way out for the trapped reporters?

Really liking this series!

Nice! A classic trap, well told and well drawn!

sixgunzloaded wrote:Nice! A classic trap, well told and well drawn!

Personally, I'm pleased with how this turned out. Character-wise, this is probably my most technically proficient drawing to date.

Viridian wrote:Personally, I'm pleased with how this turned out.

You should be! It's quite good and your efforts show consistently improving skill.
I wish I had some skill with hand drawing but almost nothing I've attempted in the past amounted to much more than stick figures. The one time I managed to produce something that looked half-way decent was when I was bored out of my mind in a college history class that the instructor had all but killed my interest in. So now I stick to graphics programs.

"This is one of the crazier ideas you've had," mused Victoria.

"Well, it worked, didn't it?"

It was rather crazy, Sanders admitted to herself, but it was a risk she was reasonably sure would work. Her indifferent observations of the museum weren't just a show of contempt for Marco, but she knew that the building was rushed in its designed, being reappropriated for use as a death trap for her. Most obvious to her upon seeing the sand filling the room was the fact that it was quite a stretch to have that much sand hidden in the ceiling. Using their clothes to plug the narrow slits, they were able to stop the flow of sand before they were buried alive.

"What now?" Victoria asked. "We're still trapped in here, and I'm getting sand everywhere."

Quicky was already thinking ahead. The crack in the wall gave her a hint. The wall looked like it had been erected in the building's renovation and the pressure of the sand on it suggested that it could be their way out. Perhaps with a bit of force, they could escape their sand prison.

Wow, I like this drawing... hope they escape!

I love their problem solving skills.

"I'm pretty sure this is just some plywood over dry wall," Sanders muttered, picking apart at the crack.

"Whatever it is, I hope it gets us out fast," Victoria replied, pointing at the blocked slits. The sand was beginning to come through, and the room began to fill up once more. The two reporters pushed against the cracked wall as the sand piled up around their chests and, soon, they were up to their shoulders and barely able to move.

"Wait, the sand's making the wall bulge!" Sanders yelled. "We just need to hold on a bit longer!"

"Mmmh!" The sand covered Victoria's mouth. Moments later, they were completely buried.

But just Sanders predicted, the thin wall was unable to hold the sand in, and with a huge crash, the entire section split open. The torrent of sand poured into the hallway, leaving the partially naked reporters coughing and spluttering, but very much alive.

"I've heard of businesses going under, but this is new," Victoria quipped. "Where's Marco?"

As it turned out, Marco was standing on the other side of the wall, waiting for the trap to finish off his victims. He had been caught in the flood of sand when the wall collapsed. Quicky stood over him and smiled. "I guess he's buried in his collection."

Gotta love a happy ending with a dose of harsh karma.