She wandered to the bathroom of her small hotel room letting her tired eyes rest for a moment on the porcelain. The walls were glimmering slightly, offering he no help or absolution. The phone call all those nights ago linked her to what had happened to Kurtis. It linked her to what was happening to her at the very moment.
Why had the called her that they were going to take him? Was it meant to be torturing, not letting her know the whole story? Or was the entire idea to make sure she learned the truth in whatever end the line of events might have? No matter how she'd find out or how bitter it might be in the end.
Clsing her eyes she let out a frustrated sigh, letting her already downed spirits sink a bit more. Her own mirror image, unflattering at the moment, greeted her once her eyelids parted again. The always soulful and intense eyes of her now lacked their usual power. She couldn't stop doubts running through her mind - had she, the ever vigilant Lara Croft, met something she wasn't able to overcome. Was it the phonecall that was doing this to her? Causing her this guilt? Her spirit was telling her to shatter the mirror from which her image was mocking her wordlessly, making faces at her feeling triumphant. Instead she turned around and, not wanting to face herself again, srode back into her bedroom.
She hadn't believed what the caller had said. In fact, she had thought it to be yet another person testing her, trying to figure out the limits of her belief. Not in the person in the other end of the phoneline, not in the words they exchanged but in mythologies and folklore. Was it all true to her? Would she believe it if someone made up a story? But she had taught herself well when it came to history and mythologies. Anyone in her profession would've.
And the it dawned to her - whoever it had been they had called her on the room phone, not her own one. They had gone through the trouble of finding her in Prague, finding her in the small hotel she had crept in silently after helping Kurtis to the hospital. No one in United Kingdom, not even Winston, had been granted the knowledge of her whereabouts. She hadn't called anyone, hadn't even mailed anyone. She hadn't even told the hospital staff where she was staying.
And that someone, who called her, must've been in Prague. Must've followed her back to the hotel or paid someone to do it for them. That someone had planned it the whole way through, known who she and Kurtis were and for some reason wanted to tip her off. Or was it just to see what she would do? How she would act? Was it a test if she had any conscience left?
Was it even about her?
The voice on the line had talked about blood being spilled to save our unworthy souls and about Pearly Gates. Lara shook her head sadly as she again made the connection - being who she was made her also familiar with the Bible and everything it contained. She had never actually read the book but somethings in it were thought to be common knowledge. Did the caller actually believe that Kurtis was reincarnation of someone who supposedly lived two milleniums ago?
Having seen all she had seen she couldn't rule out this option but couldn't find herself accepting it either. But then again, who was she to say what Kurtis was and wasn't.
Acknowlidging the fact that she coul've been able to stop this from happening she closed her eyes yet again. Gone were the times when a simple bandaid worked and now, more than ever, she wished it to be so. But there were no means of curing guilt and live. It was different to physical pain that one could get treatment for. You couldn't tie a bandage around a feeling which ate your soul inside out. All you could do was to wish it to be gone one day. Wish that that day would be soon - that you would wake up having your bad memories erased like they never existed.
But she knew better than that. She knew she'd have to carry it on her for the rest of her life and there was no telling in how many decades that meant. Could it be possible just to stop caring? Just to pass the event on as one of the dark sides of the sun? Could she ever accept the guilt?
It had to be about the phonecall.
Who could've wanted her to know and would there be more clues? No one could turn invisible - not even the things she had seen on her travels. Not even the supernatural events and entities she had proved to exist.
There had to be something on the cameras.