One Wrong Turn
Paul was just starting his first year of college, and already the 20 year old German Shepherd could feel that he was going to have a good time at college. He had been accepted to a local 4 year college on the west coast, just 10 miles from home, and had even been awarded a small scholarship his senior year of high school for his work with the community. His first semester was going to be Paul's general courses, then by the spring semester, he could start the real work for his Computer Programming major.
After his first day of classes, which ended at just 2 in the afternoon, Paul decided he would walk home, rather than use his student bus pass. Even though he lives 10 miles away, he had no homework he needed to finish today, and his backpack was filled with just a few books.
Paul had just walked off campus, when he stopped and looked out at the street, and then off to the left where there the main roads ended and the trees and country began. If he stayed on the roads he knew, it would be a 10 mile walk through town. But, if he cut straight through the wildlife park, it would only be about 6 miles to his house, giving him extra time to do some studying...or in all reality, play video games. All he had to do was keep walking at his current angle, and he'd be home in an hour or so.
Nearly 20 minutes into the reserve, Paul decided his journey could be more fun if he jogged. So he began to run, until his foot caught on a tree root protruding from the ground, sending the hapless German Shepherd tumbling head over heals down a small him, nearly missing several large trees on the way down. After the initial shock, Paul slowly got up, making sure that nothing was too badly hurt or broken. Luckily, other than the slight soreness and embarrassment, he was okay, though a little disoriented of his position now. Assuming he still knew where he was going, paul decided to pick a direction and head off that way. And besides, he thought, if he really needed help, his cell phone was in his pocket and fully charged.
After a few minutes of walking, Paul came up to a large toppled tree in the middle of the path he had been following. Thinking nothing of it, the German Shepherd jumped up on the log, then leapt off into the foliage beyond to continue moving. To his surprise, however, when he landed, his shoes did not make a thumping sound with the hard grassy ground that should have been there, but a soft, slurping sound as his feet landed in something warm and gooey. Looking down, Paul gasped as he saw what he had jumped in--a bubbling tar pit! The tar had already enveloped his sneakers nearly up to the ankles. Paul cursed under his breath as he tried forcing his feet out of the sticky tar, only to have his foot violently fly out of his stuck shoe. The maneuver threw him off balance, nearly causing him to fall face first into the deadly goo, only saving himself by shoving his now shoeless foot back into the warm tar. He was now ankle deep again, only now missing a shoe as it was devoured by the tar.
Paul tried to twist his body around so he could reach the tree he had so carelessly jumped off of, but it was of no use, he had leapt too far, and nothing around him was even close to being in his reach. Desperate, he tried to pull out his other foot in the hopes of possibly turning around, but it ended with the same results as last time, now both his bare feet stuck in over the ankles in the almost hot tar, his shoes gone under the surface, never to be seen again. Unsure of what to do, Paul franticly pulled out his cell phone to call someone, anyone, to come help him. Unfortunately, try as he might, he could not get a signal through all the trees and growth this deep in the woods. He would have to do this on his own.
For a while, Paul just stood there, contemplating his dilemma, and wriggling his feet and toes so they wouldn't start burning from being held still in one place for too long. But the real problem, was that, as he moved his feet and legs, he was slowly pulling himself deeper into the sticky tar pit. He had already sunk an alarming 2 inches just from his slight moving. if he stopped moving, however, the hot tar would begin to burn his fur and skin. He could already feel the heat on his submerged feet. Moaning, Paul tried again to pull his leg out, slowly and forcefully attempting to lift it up and out of the hot tar. To his horror, however, he saw that as he pulled, his leg was not lifting out, but rather his other leg was sinking deeper, almost up to the knee now.
Now sunk up to his knees in the sticky tar, paul could no longer wriggle his toes or feet, and he let out a faint whimper as he felt them getting hotting in the deep tar, his feet starting to scald. His legs burning and blistering, Paul, finally gave in, dropping down to his knees, sinking down to his hips as he collapses into the tar, trying to keep his paws above the hot tar. Tears began streaming down the german Shepherd's face, the searing pain and tar seeping through his jeans.
He had been stuck sinking in the tar pit for over an hour, and his body had already given out on him once, now sunk up to his waist in the hot pitch. The heat, stench, and adhesiveness of the tar was getting to the German Shepherd, draining his energy with every minute he stayed trapped in the toxic seep. Finally he could hold his arms up no longer. The weight of them and the pain had grown excruciating. Crying out, he dropped his arms into the hot tar, slumping his body over as the tar pulled in his arms and chest, leaving only his upper chest and head still above the surface.
It did not take long for Paul ti succumb to the final pulls of the tar, passing out from the overwhelming toxic odor, falling into the tar as it slowly consumed the rest of his body, dragging the dead german Shepherd down as it boiled off his flesh and organs, preserving his skeleton for some archeologist to discover in the distant future.