I can feel her struggling, the woman who has found herself in my grasp. The sticky tar clings to her skin, pulling her down with every movement she makes. She cries out for help, but there is no one around to hear her desperate pleas.

Her hands are trapped by the thick gooey substance, preventing any chance of escape on her own. I watch as she sinks deeper into the pit, up to her waist now and still sinking further.

The sun beats down on us both, evaporating the oil in the tar and making it even stickier than before. It's a cruel fate that awaits those who dare venture too close to me.

I am Tar Pit - ancient and unforgiving. My depths hold secrets from ages past, entombing anything or anyone foolish enough to cross my path.

As I watch this woman struggle against me, I feel a strange sense of satisfaction knowing that she will soon become part of my collection - another victim of my treacherous grip.

She continues to fight against the inevitable pull of gravity as she sinks deeper into me. Her screams echo through the air until finally they fade away completely as she becomes fully submerged within my murky depths.

And so another soul is claimed by Tar Pit - forever lost to time beneath layers of sticky black sludge.