You may not think of Quicksand as a brutal weapon, but believe me when I say there's no death more frightening nor unforgiving than this engulfing body-snatcher. With the stealth and silence of a thief in the night, it lies in wait, unnoticed underfoot.
As the sand begins filling up the orifices of the head (ears, nose and throat), this mucky murderer leaves its poor victims with a grounds eye view of a retreating world; a world so full of promise and adventure only seconds before that last, fateful step. The sinking victims are granted a final look-see by the murderer, as they stare out in horror at a setting landscape with not a soul in sight. A victims last conscious thought: being buried alive in an unmarkable grave. N0oooo!
I think the classic French poet/novelist Victor Hugo describes it best in his short story "Caught in the Quicksand":
"The sand rises; the sand reaches his shoulders; the sand reaches his neck; the face alone is visible now. The mouth cries, the sand fills it - silence. The eyes still gaze - the sand shuts them; night. Now the forehead decreases, a little hair flutters above the sand, a hand comes to the surface of the beach, moves and, shakes, disappears. It is the earth-drowning man."