Prologue

Dusk was beginning to yield to the darkness, but she still hasn't found a trace of her quarry. Over at about a hundred yards down west, and a brief but chilly dip in chest-high water, was the last mark of their passing—overturned stones and a bit of blood. She suspected a turn into the forest, this twenty-foot towering wall of yew that blocked the setting sun from the moment she got out of the frigid river. She had hesitated to enter it at first, thinking that she was sorely lacking in defence and had wounds of her own to tend, to be chasing them at their heels. So, for the past 5 minutes, she had been hoping to find another entrance into the barricade of trees and, chest heaving from exhaustion, walked the hundred yards or more in small hope that she would be able to intercept them, and with a healthy strike of luck, get her artefact and scoot. God help it if she died here tonight, but she had to get the talisman back.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures," Lara Croft muttered to herself, "and I'm a desperate woman."

In one swift movement, she drew her twin pistols and moved into the bush. To her surprise, she met her fate not with a bullet, nor from an expendable thug, but from the swift death of an arrow that pierced her tanktop and went right into her heart. When she fell to her knees and looked up in her last, dying gaze, she beheld the most terrifying vision of a hideous, humanoid monster; its grimy, beastly face contorted in a blood-curdling shriek. 

 -=-=-=-=-=-

Kate shot up from bed with a startled scream. When the cloud of panic finally left her eyes, she realized two things: one, the computer was still running, and two, she had fallen asleep on her chair. The dream was starting to dissipate now, and with panicked realization, she tried to hold on to as much as she could of its memory. In the couple of seconds it took to forget the dream, all she could remember was that she had been Lara Croft and she had died in a forest that reeked of a horrible stench. In the end, Kate thought it a futile endeavour to try remembering something that apparently was a fantasy. A quick glance on her computer screen confirmed her suspicions—she had fallen asleep playing a Tomb Raider game, and her Lara Croft was lying dead, too, from the looks of it. With a relieved sigh, she finally turned the computer off. Her being Lara Croft was a hundred percent illogical; she had the bust, or notable lack thereof, to prove it. Besides, she'd only dream of being –that– athletic.

Kate's digital clock read 2:00 A.M. "Jesus," she croaked, wiping the crust from her eyes. "Who'd be up at this ungodly hour?"

A trudge downstairs to the kitchen for some milk (straight from the carton, who'd care?) and a haphazard trip to the bathroom later, Kate found herself slipping into her bedtime wear: a pair of bright red cotton short shorts and a loose black t-shirt with a gothic-sort of cross in white relief on the backside. By this time, she had forgotten all about her dream, else managed to shove it all down into the depths of her subconscious, because she was occupying herself with counting the glow in the dark stars stuck to her ceiling.

"A funny night, eh Smee?" Kate spoke softly to her stuffed bear, who was properly dressed as his namesake. She twiddled with its dwarf cap for a bit, never taking her eyes off the glowing green constellations of her own creation. "It's cool to be a tomb raider, I guess, but you know you're no British butler. Hmm…Captain Piccard, I still could see it…if only I could get the damn pc game; then you'd definitely have to be Data!" Smee did not comment, but merely stared up at the ceiling with his inanimate glass eyes. "Oh, I could live without these stars, alright, but I'd be lost without you."

Kate hugged her bear, as a ritual finale of sorts, to the one-sided dialogue she engages with Smee every night. It seemed really silly, and it wasn't exactly the sort of fantasy you'd expect a 14-yr old to be having, but it was the one Kate remained perfectly comfortable with, because the rest faded to hodgepodge for her. 

 -=-=-=-=-=-

When did the stars get blue?

Kate had never seen this place before, never been here before, and she couldn't just imagine herself IMAGINING it. But here she was, and Smee was with her—comfortably tucked under one arm, with nothing else but iridescent baubles of blue light scattered about the floor…if you could call this a floor—it was grey, cold, hard…but felt like the surface of an egg.

The sound of rippling drew her head up, and to her great astonishment, a ceiling made of water rippled softly just a few feet above her head. It was there that she discovered her source of light: a spreadsheet of a billion bright blue dots. They were stars, she knew, and all of them shone down like a glittering ceiling. Kate clutched Smee tighter, and hoped that she'd be out of this dream soon.

"You have come, child."

The voice startled Kate, of course. But she didn't trust herself enough to recognize it as some bizarre, paranormal…thing. It had to be her subconscious, and she muttered just such, and even nodded her head in hopes of drilling in some logic and reason.

"Come now! You must hurry!"

Okaaay…this voice echoed eerily, and it was definitely, DEFINITELY not her subconscious. She wasn't that demented, now was she? To be sounding like some bloody ice queen straight from the fairytales and out to get you in your dreams…?

On a wild impulse, Kate looked up again, and promptly received the scare of her life. A face! A goddamn woman's face in the water!

Now, a very large part of her wanted to throw logic and reason out the window and follow her common sense, i.e. make a run for it. But before she could commit this very idiotic blunder, the face decided to speak.

"Don't be afraid, man-child. I will guide you to safety." The face was radiant, and through it Kate saw the woman actually smile. Her hair was brilliant gold and she was very beautiful, and those cerulean eyes were deep and seemingly unfathomable. Kate gathered up her bravery and drew nearer to the face, almost parallel to it…er, her as she looked up.

"Is this some kind of prophetic dream? Are you going to grant me a wish? Maybe you're a ghost," then Kate tilted her head, "a very cool ghost with this kind of set-up. Or are you an omen, angel of death?"

The canopy of stars were like a crown on her beautiful face, and when the woman smiled again Kate had the distinct feeling she had just made a mighty big fool of herself. But the woman didn't mind her questions. In fact, Kate observed, 'She doesn't seem to be seeing as in seeing me. Her eyes just pass through me like I'm a spirit or something.' This thought made her fear for her life, and she clutched Smee even tighter as she looked up to the woman's face. "Answer me now!" She demanded. "Am I dead already?"

This time the face gave her a long, quizzical look, which was really creepy. Then, as if she suddenly remembered something, the woman's head just pulled out of the water, leaving Kate alone once more.

"Ooooh…when am I going to wake up!" Kate growled, very pissed at what was going on. She didn't actually know what was going on; all she knew was that she remembered falling asleep and then suddenly finding herself here with Smee. But it all didn't make sense, especially the fact that she was still here, even after having slapped herself three painful times. "Am I ever going to wake up?" She whispered to the water ceiling.

Suddenly, there was a whole mess of ripples at one part of the big ceiling, and Kate ran up to it. All too soon, an arm emerged. This was freaky; to say the least, but fear was the last thing Kate had in mind in her desperation to wake up. She stopped, however, long enough to observe the arm. It protruded only up to just above the triceps, and looked very cold and clammy owing to the lighting. It was hanging limp, but obviously waiting for something…a hand, to grasp its own, and maybe to pull it up and out of this blue purgatory. Before Kate could get a hold of the hanging limb, however, the same woman's voice reverberated throughout the…space?

"Fated, child, you are. In your hands, all will come to an end. Choose your end wisely, and the rest shall follow."

Kate didn't give much of a mind to this last message, and little did she consider it as a warning or prophesy. Her main concern, as of the moment she heard that voice reverberate, was to get out of this enclosed space. She knew it by the bouncing sounds, like in a large room sans acoustic equipment, and wanted to ditch the place as soon as possible. It was tough to admit her claustrophobia, but the blue purgatory was the last place she'd want to end up with her worst fear.

With a mighty grip, the arm hauled her up. Kate was vaguely aware of the stars getting dimmer, not brighter as should be the case of her getting nearer to them. The moment she got out of the water though, a blast of blinding light had hit her straight on and she passed out.