Lara Croft in the Search for Xanadu
By
Neil Stokes
stokesneil@yahoo.es
This story contains some violence and bad language.
Thanks to Eva, Chris and Jess.
Tomb Raider, Lara Croft, her image and likeness are trademark and copyright © of EIDOS Interactive and Core Design. No infringement or challenge to these copyrights is intended.
* * * *
Chapter 12: Child's Play
Standing upright on the tip of its tail, its golden claws gripping the air, the huge dragon mounted, coil upon coil, towards the apex of the Dome. The interior walls were like a bright silver sky dwarfing the immense static dragon and over-arching the tiled floor where Lara Croft now stood. Her searching gaze traced the winding form of the dragon; an immense spiral staircase of gold-leafed wooden steps cut into its back. Hundreds of feet above she could make out the dragon's head partly obscured by a circular dais, which sat like a broad collar around its neck. Taking another hurried bite of the ration she had found in the twin's rucksack her stare once more followed the dragon's spine of steps, hoping to catch sight of Angela and Smiley. There was no sign of life from this distance but trusting the tomb raiding instincts that had guided her safely through countless trap- infested dungeons she sensed the Orb waiting there high above and knew Smiley would not be far behind.
Placing a booted foot on the first of the steps she reviewed the situation as she climbed, allowing unbidden fears and worries to intrude and display themselves against the canvas of her judgement. Passing over Pimp and Pump her thoughts first centred on Hurt; he would follow, would find a way across the chasm and through the catacombs but she also felt he could be dismissed from this race that was now so near its end. Her main problem was Smiley and thinking of him summoned a wave of angry, unspoken threats should Angela suffer any more from his insane greed. She increased her pace, stepping lightly and confidently, the steps sliding beneath her feet like an escalator. Virgin? The word, archaic and faintly absurd, reverberated at the back of her mind, emphasising Angela's predicament and intensifying Lara's determination to prevent the girl becoming a victim to whatever extents of brutality these men were willing to go to in their quest for power.
"Lara!"
Her thoughts scattered. Freezing in mid stride Lara half knelt as she swivelled, searching, a heavy Magnum confiscated from the twins held tightly in her outstretched fists. Angela, out of sight somewhere above had shouted her name. "Lara. Lara," it came again; an intense, breathless scream that contained all of the girl's fear and hope. Suppressing the temptation to shout back and reveal her position Lara continued to scan what she could see of the staircase above. Nothing - just the next level of steps stretching away and bending round the following twist in the dragon's body. Then she caught a movement high up, silhouetted against the intense brightness of the Dome's ceiling; Angela's head bobbed out of view and another cry, muffled and desperate unleashed Lara's strength in a sprint that carried her flying up the wooden steps. Up, up and up she drove herself, unaware of her laboured breathing and her aching thighs; the Magnum swung in rhythm at her side, keeping pace, biding its time. Her speed outstripped her mind, which slowly revolved around one fixed thought: Get Angela!
Intent on her progress she almost by-passed her objective when hurtling round yet another bend she spotted them. On one of the enormous forearms of the dragon, which jutted out from the body beyond the high, carved handrail stood Smiley with Angela before him like a hostage. There was fear in his eyes and a gun in his hand, the barrel pressed firmly against the girl's head. Angela, her face streaked by crying, shook uncontrollably as her body, possessed by terror, came to the limit of perseverance. Still, on catching sight of Lara a faint flicker of hope moved briefly across her pale shocked face. She prised open her mouth to speak: "OK, it's all OK. I'm here now. Everything's going to be fine," interrupted Lara softly, trying to smile.
"No it ain't, Lara," said Smiley in a shaky voice. "It almost certainly is not." He looked old: his pale face sagging and blending with the grey in his hair. Lara could see he had given up, that he saw her presence as a failure he had no energy to reverse. Her first reaction was: Fuck him, but in threatening Angela he had a last desperate measure of control and she knew he wouldn't give it up. She eased the pressure; lowering the Magnum to her side, she distracted him from the movement by stretching out her other empty hand in a gesture of offering. "Hey, Smiley it still ain't over," she said as lightly as she could, involuntarily mimicking his accent. Step by step she thought, first the gun and then get him to come down: "No guns, Smiley. Come on, you know there's no need for guns. We're tomb raiders not cowboys."
"Hurt's coming," he said it as if talking about the bogeyman. Lara sensed him revelling in his fear. "You know what he's gonna do with this one?" nodding down at Angela. His smile was alarming but Lara took the advantage of the change of focus to talk to the girl: "Angela. It's OK. Show me it's OK." The girl stared straight into Lara's eyes, her blank expression unchanging but rewarding Lara with a slight nod.
"What do you mean, Smiley?" she asked switching her gaze back.
Smiley's grin was ghoul like: "He needs her blood. He needs a virgin's blood."
"Were you going to go through with it?" she asked, repressing a rising feeling of revulsion.
Smiley shrugged. "Maybe," he said. Then, as if remembering he was in charge, his voice became firmer: "Now, I'm getting out of here. Drop that there gun and we go our separate ways. Of course," he added more like his old self, "I'll be taking the Orb with me."
Lara knew he was lying; she could taste his fear: He was alone and Hurt was coming so they were dead anyway; he wouldn't take any chances in saving his rotten, worthless skin. She checked on Angela; the girl still stood there petrified but on seeing Lara's look the shaking stopped. The girl, misinterpreting the message in Lara's eyes, nodded again and turning, shoved at Smiley with her shoulder. It was all over in an instant, leaving Lara standing there with her arm stretched out and horror scrawled across her face. Smiley had fired into the air as he slipped before jogging on the spot momentarily. His feet lost their hold and he fell grabbing at Angela but only succeeding in knocking her down. Stumbling backwards, tripping and falling through the open fingers of the dragon's raking hand, he came to rest on the upturned thumb, the claw - long, curved, sharp - had pierced his chest so that he lay suspended and spread-eagled face-up, soaked in his own blood. Angela was nowhere to be seen.
The child's shrill cries for help proved superfluous as Lara had already hurdled the stair rail and was crouching on the dragon's shoulder. "I'm coming Angela, I'm coming," she called down. Angela was hanging by her fingers from the dragon's long, carved fetlock some metres below, her face an image of fright but quietly answering Lara's distracting questions as she watched her with trusting eyes. Conscious of how little time she had to get to the girl before her strength failed, Lara quickly let herself over the side and began her treacherous descent, the hanging girl whimpering as the pain in her fingers surrendered to numbness. As Lara looked down at the child she could see the tiled floor beyond, hundreds of feet below, black and shining malevolently in the Dome's light. Angela's hands, wet with fear, began to slip along the length of wood she was gripping; she cried out and Lara knew this was it. Wrapping her legs around the nearest wooden strand of fur she let go with her hands, dropping upside down like a trapeze artist and thrusting out her arms towards the girl just as Angela's sliding hands ran out of wood. For a fraction of a second the girl was suspended, clawing at space, before Lara's strong hands closed around her wrists, the girl weeping and Lara releasing a deep sigh of relief.
CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! Applause in a slow, ironic beat. Hurt, standing on the staircase and backed by his henchmen, leant his elbows on the stair rail, cupping his chin in his hands and looking at the inverted Lara with adoring eyes: "I must say, Lara dear. You certainly do know how to put on a show."
By
Neil Stokes
stokesneil@yahoo.es
This story contains some violence and bad language.
Thanks to Eva, Chris and Jess.
Tomb Raider, Lara Croft, her image and likeness are trademark and copyright © of EIDOS Interactive and Core Design. No infringement or challenge to these copyrights is intended.
* * * *
Chapter 12: Child's Play
Standing upright on the tip of its tail, its golden claws gripping the air, the huge dragon mounted, coil upon coil, towards the apex of the Dome. The interior walls were like a bright silver sky dwarfing the immense static dragon and over-arching the tiled floor where Lara Croft now stood. Her searching gaze traced the winding form of the dragon; an immense spiral staircase of gold-leafed wooden steps cut into its back. Hundreds of feet above she could make out the dragon's head partly obscured by a circular dais, which sat like a broad collar around its neck. Taking another hurried bite of the ration she had found in the twin's rucksack her stare once more followed the dragon's spine of steps, hoping to catch sight of Angela and Smiley. There was no sign of life from this distance but trusting the tomb raiding instincts that had guided her safely through countless trap- infested dungeons she sensed the Orb waiting there high above and knew Smiley would not be far behind.
Placing a booted foot on the first of the steps she reviewed the situation as she climbed, allowing unbidden fears and worries to intrude and display themselves against the canvas of her judgement. Passing over Pimp and Pump her thoughts first centred on Hurt; he would follow, would find a way across the chasm and through the catacombs but she also felt he could be dismissed from this race that was now so near its end. Her main problem was Smiley and thinking of him summoned a wave of angry, unspoken threats should Angela suffer any more from his insane greed. She increased her pace, stepping lightly and confidently, the steps sliding beneath her feet like an escalator. Virgin? The word, archaic and faintly absurd, reverberated at the back of her mind, emphasising Angela's predicament and intensifying Lara's determination to prevent the girl becoming a victim to whatever extents of brutality these men were willing to go to in their quest for power.
"Lara!"
Her thoughts scattered. Freezing in mid stride Lara half knelt as she swivelled, searching, a heavy Magnum confiscated from the twins held tightly in her outstretched fists. Angela, out of sight somewhere above had shouted her name. "Lara. Lara," it came again; an intense, breathless scream that contained all of the girl's fear and hope. Suppressing the temptation to shout back and reveal her position Lara continued to scan what she could see of the staircase above. Nothing - just the next level of steps stretching away and bending round the following twist in the dragon's body. Then she caught a movement high up, silhouetted against the intense brightness of the Dome's ceiling; Angela's head bobbed out of view and another cry, muffled and desperate unleashed Lara's strength in a sprint that carried her flying up the wooden steps. Up, up and up she drove herself, unaware of her laboured breathing and her aching thighs; the Magnum swung in rhythm at her side, keeping pace, biding its time. Her speed outstripped her mind, which slowly revolved around one fixed thought: Get Angela!
Intent on her progress she almost by-passed her objective when hurtling round yet another bend she spotted them. On one of the enormous forearms of the dragon, which jutted out from the body beyond the high, carved handrail stood Smiley with Angela before him like a hostage. There was fear in his eyes and a gun in his hand, the barrel pressed firmly against the girl's head. Angela, her face streaked by crying, shook uncontrollably as her body, possessed by terror, came to the limit of perseverance. Still, on catching sight of Lara a faint flicker of hope moved briefly across her pale shocked face. She prised open her mouth to speak: "OK, it's all OK. I'm here now. Everything's going to be fine," interrupted Lara softly, trying to smile.
"No it ain't, Lara," said Smiley in a shaky voice. "It almost certainly is not." He looked old: his pale face sagging and blending with the grey in his hair. Lara could see he had given up, that he saw her presence as a failure he had no energy to reverse. Her first reaction was: Fuck him, but in threatening Angela he had a last desperate measure of control and she knew he wouldn't give it up. She eased the pressure; lowering the Magnum to her side, she distracted him from the movement by stretching out her other empty hand in a gesture of offering. "Hey, Smiley it still ain't over," she said as lightly as she could, involuntarily mimicking his accent. Step by step she thought, first the gun and then get him to come down: "No guns, Smiley. Come on, you know there's no need for guns. We're tomb raiders not cowboys."
"Hurt's coming," he said it as if talking about the bogeyman. Lara sensed him revelling in his fear. "You know what he's gonna do with this one?" nodding down at Angela. His smile was alarming but Lara took the advantage of the change of focus to talk to the girl: "Angela. It's OK. Show me it's OK." The girl stared straight into Lara's eyes, her blank expression unchanging but rewarding Lara with a slight nod.
"What do you mean, Smiley?" she asked switching her gaze back.
Smiley's grin was ghoul like: "He needs her blood. He needs a virgin's blood."
"Were you going to go through with it?" she asked, repressing a rising feeling of revulsion.
Smiley shrugged. "Maybe," he said. Then, as if remembering he was in charge, his voice became firmer: "Now, I'm getting out of here. Drop that there gun and we go our separate ways. Of course," he added more like his old self, "I'll be taking the Orb with me."
Lara knew he was lying; she could taste his fear: He was alone and Hurt was coming so they were dead anyway; he wouldn't take any chances in saving his rotten, worthless skin. She checked on Angela; the girl still stood there petrified but on seeing Lara's look the shaking stopped. The girl, misinterpreting the message in Lara's eyes, nodded again and turning, shoved at Smiley with her shoulder. It was all over in an instant, leaving Lara standing there with her arm stretched out and horror scrawled across her face. Smiley had fired into the air as he slipped before jogging on the spot momentarily. His feet lost their hold and he fell grabbing at Angela but only succeeding in knocking her down. Stumbling backwards, tripping and falling through the open fingers of the dragon's raking hand, he came to rest on the upturned thumb, the claw - long, curved, sharp - had pierced his chest so that he lay suspended and spread-eagled face-up, soaked in his own blood. Angela was nowhere to be seen.
The child's shrill cries for help proved superfluous as Lara had already hurdled the stair rail and was crouching on the dragon's shoulder. "I'm coming Angela, I'm coming," she called down. Angela was hanging by her fingers from the dragon's long, carved fetlock some metres below, her face an image of fright but quietly answering Lara's distracting questions as she watched her with trusting eyes. Conscious of how little time she had to get to the girl before her strength failed, Lara quickly let herself over the side and began her treacherous descent, the hanging girl whimpering as the pain in her fingers surrendered to numbness. As Lara looked down at the child she could see the tiled floor beyond, hundreds of feet below, black and shining malevolently in the Dome's light. Angela's hands, wet with fear, began to slip along the length of wood she was gripping; she cried out and Lara knew this was it. Wrapping her legs around the nearest wooden strand of fur she let go with her hands, dropping upside down like a trapeze artist and thrusting out her arms towards the girl just as Angela's sliding hands ran out of wood. For a fraction of a second the girl was suspended, clawing at space, before Lara's strong hands closed around her wrists, the girl weeping and Lara releasing a deep sigh of relief.
CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! Applause in a slow, ironic beat. Hurt, standing on the staircase and backed by his henchmen, leant his elbows on the stair rail, cupping his chin in his hands and looking at the inverted Lara with adoring eyes: "I must say, Lara dear. You certainly do know how to put on a show."