Only to be archived at Lara Croft's Tales of Beauty and Power and at
Fanfiction.net
All other sites please email me first at siirma6@surfeu.fi to gain
permission
Disclaimer: I do not own Lara Croft, Tomn Raider etc. I am not making any money with this work of fiction.
Notes: This story was written on Christmas Eve some four years ago when I was travelling in Australia as a Christmas card for a friend back home. Please bear in mind during reading that the way Lara is portrayed here is not really how I see her, but a mere vessel for suitably Christmassy melodrama. I don't think she would make the choices she has made here.
I personally love Christmas stories - they keep up a tradition on storytelling and in TR fic often pay homage to the classics of literature. Ryan Foley's "December Soul" and Sarah Crisman's "Lara Croft and The Surprise Visitor" probably had a heavy influence on how this little piece ended up.
Enough has been said, I do hope you enjoy the ride :=)
============================================== A Night For The Living by Heidi Ahlmen (siirma6@surfeu.fi) ==============================================
Chapter 1
Christmas Eve 2032
"Madeline, sooo nice to see you!" "Welcome, darlings! Let me take your coats..."
Chrissie Granger stood in the kitchen doorway, flashing a somewhat forced smile to her new family's relatives who'd come all the way for California. Unable to understand why any yankee would be willing to spend Christmas in the cold, rainy Surrey, she reluctantly waved her greeting to her stepmothers' sister, brother-in-law and their children.
Chrissie had lived with the Grangers for almost half a year now. After leaving her grim life in London which she rarely wanted to think about she had settled down with this down-to-earth family quite well. Yet she felt like a stranger. Despite her sorrowful childhood she still loved her mother - whom she'd been taken away from. Chrissie knew her biological mother, a drug addict, was simply unable to cope with a teenager.
But still it felt wrong trying to treat Madeline Granger as her mother.
Holidays were always something Chrissie wanted to skip. She had never really celebrated much birthdays - except of those of her old London schoolfriends (rich bitches - Chrissie always stated, reluctant to write to them or talk to them on the phone) and Christmases had never been any different than other cold days in December for Chrissie and her mother.
Shivering, Chrissie knew that if she had stayed there, she'd have turned to
drugs for comfort and probably perished.
She ought to feel so lucky.
But one can't help one's memories from surfacing even once in awhile. When a holiday approached, Chrissie isolated herself, wanting secretly to ignore the whole thing. Madeleine and Rob - her stepfather and mother and Lewis - her stepbrother, tried so hard to make her excited about having traditional feast, knowing it was something she'd never had the chance to do.
They meant good. It was Chrissie who always made everyone else sad - spoiled their holiday mood. That truly was how she felt - locking herself to her room and staring out across Southern England's rainy moors.
Chrissie was awakened from her grim thoughts by Lewis, who took her hand.
"Come on, let's go meet our cousins."
Chrissie liked Lewis. Only one year younger than her, fifteen, Lewis had always somehow understood her and helped her to adjust to her new life. She
followed him into the living room.
Madeleine Granger was fussing around, dealing out cups of hot eggnogg.
"There you are, Chrissie. And Lewis. Everyone, this is Christine Granger."
Exaggeratedly understanding and sympathetic looks came from everywhere. Everyone knew she was the poor adopted kid. But being in the center of attention gave Chrissie a chance to
take a good look at her new relatives. A woman in her early forties, perhaps, with her husband, three kids. Two of them probably her or Lewis' age.
The woman aprroached Chrissie and shook her hand.
"Hello, Chrissie. I'm Diane, and this is Paul. The girl hiding behind the Christmas tree," suddenly a face appeared behind the tree and grinned at Chrissie. She smiled back.
"-is Susannah. She's nine. Here we have Nicky and Bradley, Nick and Brad."
The two boys rose from their chairs and greeted Chrissie.
"How about it if you kids go to Lewis' room and fill in with each other what's been happening for the past few years?" Madeleine suggested, carrying a tray full of biscuits.
Chrissie didn't like being called a kid, but Madeleine did it in good heart, so she ignored it. Ushering little Susannah towards her room, she shot a look to Lewis.
"Brad and Nicky, let's go." The boys smiled and the whole group went to Chrissie's room.
"You won a surfing competition? Really?" gasped Lewis, and Nicky nodded.
Chrissie sighed.
"We're both in our school team," stated Brad, in a proud tone.
"Really?" gasped Lewis again, obviously impressed with Californian life.
Chrissie wasn't impressed. California this and California that. Lewis had been blinded by the boys' stories. After listening to their conversation for some minutes more, she felt she had to somehow prove living in the countryside of Britain was worth the effort.
"You know, guys" Chrissie said, mocking Brad and Nicky's favorite word, "you California people may have big waves, sunshine and half-a-metre high ice-cream cones, but there's one thing you don't have."
Brad crossed his arms to his chest, snorting in genuinely Californian disbelief.
"And what's that, Chrissie?"
"A haunted house."
"A haunted house?" Nicky asked, somehow mockingly.
"Yeah? Do you happen to know that ghosts are for kids. They don't exist." Brad remarked.
Lewis remained silent. Not a good idea, this ghost business. He felt sorry he'd shared the story with Chrissie a few months earlier. Everyone in the neighbourhood knew about it, but the way Chrissie had blurted it out... sounded like a dare.
"I'll prove it," Chrissie said, somehow feeling very confident. And somehow
terrified.
"And how are you going to do that?" asked Nicky and Brad in unison.
"Meet me dressed and carrying flashlights at eleven p.m. in the verandah. Then you'll see", said Chrissie, trying to sound assuring, but realized she was gradually getting pretty nervous.
Croft Manor, 1124 Eastbourne Road in Surrey, bathed in the cold, rainy weather and moonlight, as Chrissie, Lewis, Brad and Nicky made their way through the fields towards the manor.
"Are you sure about this?" Lewis asked for what seemed the hundredth time since they'd left the safe haven of their home.
"We can't possibly go back now." Chrissie shrugged as they arrived at the old, rusty gates.
"So," Brad said conversationally, shaking a bit in the ripe wind, looking around, "what's the business with this place?"
"This manor" Chrissie started, pulling open the gardener's gate, after breaking the rusty lock with a branch, "was owned by a lonely young woman surnamed Croft, I have no idea whatsoever what her first name was, who lived here all alone. She's supposed to be haunting here every night. The house, the manor, I mean, hasn't been used for decades. Even the caretaker hired by the owner, the great grandson of this Croft woman's butler, only comes here during daytime."
Chrissie waved her hand in a polite gesture towards the now open small door
in the right side of the huge gate, and everyone stepped in.
The garden was overgrown, and the vines that had taken over the place took odd shapes in the moonlight, like demons screaming of ascension,
making the landscape seem really ghostlike. An owl that had been chuckling in a nearby tree suddenly took off to flight, startling Lewis, who had been standing under a tree on the edge of a nervous breakdown. He didn't quite consider himself a ghost hunter.
"Shit! What was that!?"
"Just an owl," Chrissie said loudly trying to reassure herself as well.
To her right was an old fountain, now growing green water plants. A rosebush nearby had conquered itself more space by suffocating some rhododenrons, reaching towards the black deepness of the fountain. The fountain was sclupted into the shape of a horse, with a wild look and flowing mane. Chrissie shivered. What kind of a woman had lived alone in this ghostly, oversized mansion so long ago? And why was she still told to wander here?
They soon found themselves at the front door. Chrissie, Lewis, and the twins kept together, startled by every nightly sound.
Lewis, feeling slightly braver inspected the lock. "Looks like some kind of an electrical system to open to door. Built in the late eighties, I'd say", he remarked. Lewis was a tech geek, a fact which Chrissie loved to tease him about.
"Let's see if we can find a button to open the door."
"It's in here," said Nicky, pointing at a nearby wall, with vine growing over a small, white plate.
Together they pulled off the ivy vine and pressed the button. The front door opened, squeaking.
"Why would someone who's rich enough to live in a mansion, not have tighter
security? Anyone could just walk in."
"Obviously someone who didn't feel they needed security systems to protect themselves and their life," Chrissie mused ominously as they entered the door, arriving in a wide main hall.
They flicked on their flashlights and pointed them at various directions on
the huge hall.
Mold and moisture had done their deeds to the house. The main hall, framed by two huge staircases lined with reddish wall-to-wall carpets, was empty. The
wind hovered outside.
Brad, Nick and Lewis went straight forward, staying downstairs, but Chrissie walked bravely to the stairs. Lewis stopped at the bottom of the stairs.
"You sure that's a good idea, Chrissie? The stairs could be rotten."
"Don't you worry, Lewis," Chrissie said, trying to assure them both. She began walking up the right staircase.
-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~
As always, comments and reviews would be much appreciated - they're the fuel that feeds this creative furnace.
siirma6@surfeu.fi
Disclaimer: I do not own Lara Croft, Tomn Raider etc. I am not making any money with this work of fiction.
Notes: This story was written on Christmas Eve some four years ago when I was travelling in Australia as a Christmas card for a friend back home. Please bear in mind during reading that the way Lara is portrayed here is not really how I see her, but a mere vessel for suitably Christmassy melodrama. I don't think she would make the choices she has made here.
I personally love Christmas stories - they keep up a tradition on storytelling and in TR fic often pay homage to the classics of literature. Ryan Foley's "December Soul" and Sarah Crisman's "Lara Croft and The Surprise Visitor" probably had a heavy influence on how this little piece ended up.
Enough has been said, I do hope you enjoy the ride :=)
============================================== A Night For The Living by Heidi Ahlmen (siirma6@surfeu.fi) ==============================================
Chapter 1
Christmas Eve 2032
"Madeline, sooo nice to see you!" "Welcome, darlings! Let me take your coats..."
Chrissie Granger stood in the kitchen doorway, flashing a somewhat forced smile to her new family's relatives who'd come all the way for California. Unable to understand why any yankee would be willing to spend Christmas in the cold, rainy Surrey, she reluctantly waved her greeting to her stepmothers' sister, brother-in-law and their children.
Chrissie had lived with the Grangers for almost half a year now. After leaving her grim life in London which she rarely wanted to think about she had settled down with this down-to-earth family quite well. Yet she felt like a stranger. Despite her sorrowful childhood she still loved her mother - whom she'd been taken away from. Chrissie knew her biological mother, a drug addict, was simply unable to cope with a teenager.
But still it felt wrong trying to treat Madeline Granger as her mother.
Holidays were always something Chrissie wanted to skip. She had never really celebrated much birthdays - except of those of her old London schoolfriends (rich bitches - Chrissie always stated, reluctant to write to them or talk to them on the phone) and Christmases had never been any different than other cold days in December for Chrissie and her mother.
Shivering, Chrissie knew that if she had stayed there, she'd have turned to
drugs for comfort and probably perished.
She ought to feel so lucky.
But one can't help one's memories from surfacing even once in awhile. When a holiday approached, Chrissie isolated herself, wanting secretly to ignore the whole thing. Madeleine and Rob - her stepfather and mother and Lewis - her stepbrother, tried so hard to make her excited about having traditional feast, knowing it was something she'd never had the chance to do.
They meant good. It was Chrissie who always made everyone else sad - spoiled their holiday mood. That truly was how she felt - locking herself to her room and staring out across Southern England's rainy moors.
Chrissie was awakened from her grim thoughts by Lewis, who took her hand.
"Come on, let's go meet our cousins."
Chrissie liked Lewis. Only one year younger than her, fifteen, Lewis had always somehow understood her and helped her to adjust to her new life. She
followed him into the living room.
Madeleine Granger was fussing around, dealing out cups of hot eggnogg.
"There you are, Chrissie. And Lewis. Everyone, this is Christine Granger."
Exaggeratedly understanding and sympathetic looks came from everywhere. Everyone knew she was the poor adopted kid. But being in the center of attention gave Chrissie a chance to
take a good look at her new relatives. A woman in her early forties, perhaps, with her husband, three kids. Two of them probably her or Lewis' age.
The woman aprroached Chrissie and shook her hand.
"Hello, Chrissie. I'm Diane, and this is Paul. The girl hiding behind the Christmas tree," suddenly a face appeared behind the tree and grinned at Chrissie. She smiled back.
"-is Susannah. She's nine. Here we have Nicky and Bradley, Nick and Brad."
The two boys rose from their chairs and greeted Chrissie.
"How about it if you kids go to Lewis' room and fill in with each other what's been happening for the past few years?" Madeleine suggested, carrying a tray full of biscuits.
Chrissie didn't like being called a kid, but Madeleine did it in good heart, so she ignored it. Ushering little Susannah towards her room, she shot a look to Lewis.
"Brad and Nicky, let's go." The boys smiled and the whole group went to Chrissie's room.
"You won a surfing competition? Really?" gasped Lewis, and Nicky nodded.
Chrissie sighed.
"We're both in our school team," stated Brad, in a proud tone.
"Really?" gasped Lewis again, obviously impressed with Californian life.
Chrissie wasn't impressed. California this and California that. Lewis had been blinded by the boys' stories. After listening to their conversation for some minutes more, she felt she had to somehow prove living in the countryside of Britain was worth the effort.
"You know, guys" Chrissie said, mocking Brad and Nicky's favorite word, "you California people may have big waves, sunshine and half-a-metre high ice-cream cones, but there's one thing you don't have."
Brad crossed his arms to his chest, snorting in genuinely Californian disbelief.
"And what's that, Chrissie?"
"A haunted house."
"A haunted house?" Nicky asked, somehow mockingly.
"Yeah? Do you happen to know that ghosts are for kids. They don't exist." Brad remarked.
Lewis remained silent. Not a good idea, this ghost business. He felt sorry he'd shared the story with Chrissie a few months earlier. Everyone in the neighbourhood knew about it, but the way Chrissie had blurted it out... sounded like a dare.
"I'll prove it," Chrissie said, somehow feeling very confident. And somehow
terrified.
"And how are you going to do that?" asked Nicky and Brad in unison.
"Meet me dressed and carrying flashlights at eleven p.m. in the verandah. Then you'll see", said Chrissie, trying to sound assuring, but realized she was gradually getting pretty nervous.
Croft Manor, 1124 Eastbourne Road in Surrey, bathed in the cold, rainy weather and moonlight, as Chrissie, Lewis, Brad and Nicky made their way through the fields towards the manor.
"Are you sure about this?" Lewis asked for what seemed the hundredth time since they'd left the safe haven of their home.
"We can't possibly go back now." Chrissie shrugged as they arrived at the old, rusty gates.
"So," Brad said conversationally, shaking a bit in the ripe wind, looking around, "what's the business with this place?"
"This manor" Chrissie started, pulling open the gardener's gate, after breaking the rusty lock with a branch, "was owned by a lonely young woman surnamed Croft, I have no idea whatsoever what her first name was, who lived here all alone. She's supposed to be haunting here every night. The house, the manor, I mean, hasn't been used for decades. Even the caretaker hired by the owner, the great grandson of this Croft woman's butler, only comes here during daytime."
Chrissie waved her hand in a polite gesture towards the now open small door
in the right side of the huge gate, and everyone stepped in.
The garden was overgrown, and the vines that had taken over the place took odd shapes in the moonlight, like demons screaming of ascension,
making the landscape seem really ghostlike. An owl that had been chuckling in a nearby tree suddenly took off to flight, startling Lewis, who had been standing under a tree on the edge of a nervous breakdown. He didn't quite consider himself a ghost hunter.
"Shit! What was that!?"
"Just an owl," Chrissie said loudly trying to reassure herself as well.
To her right was an old fountain, now growing green water plants. A rosebush nearby had conquered itself more space by suffocating some rhododenrons, reaching towards the black deepness of the fountain. The fountain was sclupted into the shape of a horse, with a wild look and flowing mane. Chrissie shivered. What kind of a woman had lived alone in this ghostly, oversized mansion so long ago? And why was she still told to wander here?
They soon found themselves at the front door. Chrissie, Lewis, and the twins kept together, startled by every nightly sound.
Lewis, feeling slightly braver inspected the lock. "Looks like some kind of an electrical system to open to door. Built in the late eighties, I'd say", he remarked. Lewis was a tech geek, a fact which Chrissie loved to tease him about.
"Let's see if we can find a button to open the door."
"It's in here," said Nicky, pointing at a nearby wall, with vine growing over a small, white plate.
Together they pulled off the ivy vine and pressed the button. The front door opened, squeaking.
"Why would someone who's rich enough to live in a mansion, not have tighter
security? Anyone could just walk in."
"Obviously someone who didn't feel they needed security systems to protect themselves and their life," Chrissie mused ominously as they entered the door, arriving in a wide main hall.
They flicked on their flashlights and pointed them at various directions on
the huge hall.
Mold and moisture had done their deeds to the house. The main hall, framed by two huge staircases lined with reddish wall-to-wall carpets, was empty. The
wind hovered outside.
Brad, Nick and Lewis went straight forward, staying downstairs, but Chrissie walked bravely to the stairs. Lewis stopped at the bottom of the stairs.
"You sure that's a good idea, Chrissie? The stairs could be rotten."
"Don't you worry, Lewis," Chrissie said, trying to assure them both. She began walking up the right staircase.
-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~
As always, comments and reviews would be much appreciated - they're the fuel that feeds this creative furnace.
siirma6@surfeu.fi