Sandcastles by Jon Minton ~ A Friday the 13th Horror Short Story

Another creepy fun Friday the 13th story…

Fun Fact:

In my latest #Fridaythe13th story, Sandcastles, our killer uses the beach itself as his murder weapon. But can people really drown in sand? And how realistic is quicksand portrayed in stories?

Drowning in sand, also known as sand aspiration, is a real risk. It can suffocate and crush you at the same time, causing respiratory asphyxia due to thoracic compression. Tragically, children have perished this way, even in sandboxes.

And while quicksand might rapidly swallow a character whole in a book or movie, this isn’t realistic. The human body is less dense than quicksand, so you will only sink partially…until panicked movements by the victim cause more liquidation, which will make them sink further. Despite its name, quicksand provides a slow, dramatic death, giving the victim ample time to deliver tearful goodbyes, profess love, or reveal plot twists.

Who can forget the Swamps of Sadness in The Neverending Story? RIP Artax.

About Sandcastles:

How far will one woman go to avenge her brother’s murder? She’s not sure the police deserve to capture the murderer and have the news hail them as heroes…and maybe the Sandcastle Killer deserves to see the inside of a grave rather than a cell. Kindle or paperback.

Excerpt:

“You’re awake,” he said, a lively lilt in his voice.

“David…why?” she sobbed, seawater filling her prison, feet kicking up the wet silt turning to mud. She sunk her fingers into the sand as she tried to claw her way up, only for one wall to collapse. Mud washed over her feet, rising to her ankles, then her shins. “David! I’m going to drown.”

“Yeah, careful with that,” he said from a distance. “Trying to claw at the walls will make it worse.” David took the same, lectured cadence July’s father might use to remind her that improperly insulated windows would run up her electric bill.

She felt herself sinking, pressure on the soles of her feet as the earth sucked July into the abyss, slowly, as if Mother Earth were taking the time to savor her morsel.

“Hey, you want to see something?” he shouted, even further away. “Get ready to catch.”

She screeched for help as loud as she could, tendons in her neck straining. A shiver ran up her spine when her feet hit a dramatic temperature change and her body slipped further into the quicksand.

“C’mon, now. You won’t catch it. On three. Ready? One.”

“Help me!”

“Two.”

The mud crept up her chest, a chilling reminder of David choking her unconscious earlier. She peddled her legs to stay afloat, thighs burning in the sludge.

“Three.”

She recognized her cell phone as it arced through the air. She struggled to get a hand free, but snagged the device before it fell into the mud.

“Did you catch it?” He laughed. “It still has the SIM card, if you think you can call someone.”

What is it about a picture? Especially on a phone, the bright LED makes the vibrant colors pop. Even in the sun’s glare, the sandcastle he built was clear, July’s grave lurking in the background. Her eyes succumbed to the picture’s gravity, and she stared at its magnificence before the mud stole her vision, hearing, and breath.

Author bio:

Jon Minton is an American speculative fiction writer based in Oklahoma City. He is a software developer but has always been passionate about a great story.