Lara entered and surveyed the entire area. The essence of a room was felt but a gray mist prevented the view of walls or ceiling. A silver table was located in the middle. She slowly walked towards it. The echoes of the footsteps allowed her to judge the room as cavernous.
Dark forms appeared within the foggy perimeter, unidentifiable shadows standing inside the haze.
Before reaching the table, she noticed her clothing. A creamy white silk and chiffon gown, with a small train of cloth, was draped across her body. Brown leather sandals wrapped around her feet. Her hands were placed on the cool smooth surface of the table. Her eyes drifted to the left.
A handsome male stood behind another table. His bronze armored outfit reminded her of a Roman gladiator. His head turned, and he grinned, "Hello, Miss Lara Croft. It is a pleasure to see you again and, this time, face to face." He swaggered to her and extended a hand.
Lara shook it and found his grip to be crushing and cold. "May I ask who you are? And where I am?"
With his eyebrows raised, he spoke, "I'm shocked. A smart girl like you, and you don't have a clue of where you are or who I am? Tsk, tsk." He sat on her table. "I'm rather hurt by that remark. After all we have been through, the many adventures, the close calls." His head shook. "I have been involved in every aspect of your life. I know every intimate detail about you. Every action, every word, every deed, and you don't know anything about me?" He pouted and tilted his head.
Lara studied him from head to toe. His handsome face and 'Mr. Universe' physique did not stir a memory cell. Someone as broad shouldered with a rock solid form and a stunning face would never have been forgotten, even from a brief meeting. In regret, she shook her head. "I can't recall ever meeting you. I am sorry."
A smile crept across his face. "No need to apologize. I planned it that way."
Surprised, her brow furrowed. "Who are you?"
"I have many names, Miss Lara Croft, but only a few I truly favor. One of them is Lucifer, son of the Morningstar. On earth, it's the Devil, Prince of Darkness, Father of Lies." A small tiger's growl came from his throat. "But here, I am known as Satan the Adversary, the Accuser." He bowed.
Lara stepped back. "You are nothing what I imagined."
"Credit my very effective public relations department. Humans want to imagine evil as ugly and grotesque, but it can be as beautiful as a rose with poisonous thorns. So we let you continue with the imagination. It influences everybody to think whatever's ugly is evil," he chuckled.
"I don't remember anytime in my life I had dealings with you, other than battles with horrendous demons," she argued.
"Ahhh, yes... and those were classic battles, if I recall. Very skillful, very tension-filled, very exciting... and the blood and gore all over the place," he whistled. "They were all underlings and powers within my control. Didn't anyone tell you demons cannot be killed? They were all anxiously waiting in the background for another chance to tangle with you, but I wouldn't let them. You were my prized possession." He winked.
"I never belonged to you!" she retorted.
He leaned forward. "You would think that. But, truthfully, Miss Lara Croft, you have followed all of my suggestions. Therefore, I was the greatest influence in your life."
"When did I listen to you?" she grilled.
"Let me give you an example." His hands rubbed. "It was some time after you returned from the fateful Himalayan trip. Your father coddled and protected you, at times to a stifling point. He insisted and pressed it was time for you to consider marriage and make a home of your own. You withstood and resisted his arguments, until your anger could not be held back any longer. With venom spewing from the mouth, you erupted and rebelled against his demands." He trilled like an incoming missile. "I came around and whispered in your ear, 'Wouldn't it be nice to be on your own and not listen to him anymore or live under his rules?' You took that suggestion hook, line, and sinker. What a confrontation you had with him," he laughed.
She snarled, "But he threw me out of the house!"
"Of course he did. You trampled on his pride. You rebelled against his authority. And, with a little coaxing from me, he showed you the door and gave you the old heave-ho."
Her eyes glared at him. "We have reconciled. I am welcomed back home."
"Reconciled, but not forgotten. It still hurts when you recall that incident, doesn't it?"
Lara frowned and looked away. "If that didn't happen, I wouldn't be where I am now!"
"That's right." He waved an opened hand across the air. "The great Lara Croft, the distinguished archaeologist, the intrepid adventurer, the 'Tomb Raider'. You wouldn't be where you are now, without me. I laid ambition at your feet, and you ran for it."
"It wasn't ambition, it was survival!" she grunted.
"Call it as you will. You took any adventuring job in the beginning, regardless how unscrupulous it was, all in the name of 'survival'," he snickered. "What you did was steal from kings, governments, and individuals, Miss Lara Croft."
"I had good reasons for my actions!"
"Now you can justify your actions, but back then it was stealing. Fortunate for you, a number of your articles were published that kept you out of the poor house, until you hit it big with the Big Foot discovery. You almost became an overnight celebrity. And soon after, 'survival' became 'ambition'." He folded his hands.
"I did what I loved to do! Is there something wrong with that?" she scowled.
His hands went up. "No, no. On the contrary, I applaud your adventures. Hooray for tomb raiding, hooray for your degree in archaeology, hooray for all the accolades bestowed on you. You were my greatest proponent to show the world what strength, beauty, and education can achieve. Everybody wanted to be like you," he smirked.
She snapped, "Is it so wrong I should be someone else's ideal?"
"Rebellious, violent in nature, unscrupulous, and sensual." He looked up and paused. "Everything I would look for in a woman. As long as society praises and glorifies you, and holds you up as an ideal, you would hear no complaints from me. I applaud it, because I was there, nurturing you from beginning to end. So you see, Miss Lara Croft, my subtle suggestions, my well-timed whispers, directed you to a greater glory before the world. That's why I can say I was your greatest influence."
She shouted, "You're lying! You said you are the Father of Lies, so why should I believe you now?"
He grinned, "Denial, another powerful weapon in my arsenal. Deny I have any involvement in your life. Deny a being like me exists. Deny all that, and my subtle influences will be as invisible as the air you breathed. A very powerful weapon, I must say. And who do you think gave you that thought of denial in the first place?" His fist closed and an extended thumb touched his chest. "I did."
"I don't believe you! You are lying!"
He stood. "I would love to continue this 'yes I did, no you didn't, yes I did' kind of banter, but all good things must come to an end. To give a final answer to your question, in this hall of judgment I must speak truthfully because the Lord Judge requires it."
Her eyes widened. "What? Hall of judgment? What are you talking about?"
"I am talking about judgment day. Your judgment day, Miss Lara Croft. Like I said before, all things must end." He winked.
Shaken, she questioned, "Am I... dead?"
"Your body is dead, but spiritually, you are still alive to face judgment."
"How did it happen? How did my body die?" Her eyes drooped and a brief expression of pain crossed her face.
He replied, "How you died is not important. What's important is when you died. It is written, '...it is appointed for men to die once and after this comes judgment'. Everyone has an appointment with death, but nobody expects judgment to come afterwards. Again, the advantage is mine. In this hall of judgment, I am Satan the Adversary, the Accuser, the prosecuting attorney to the defendant standing behind this table."
"You are going to prosecute me?"
He nodded, "Very much so."
In a stern voice, she asked, "What am I being charged with?"
"Let me remind you this is not a courtroom like the ones you have on earth, but yet it wouldn't be fair to spring the charges up without seeing them."
A large book materialized on the table.
"This, Miss Lara Croft, is the book of your life. Every action, every word, every deed, every thought, is written in this book." He leaned closer. "Let me repeat myself so it will sink in better and you may feel the full weight of these words. Every action done with your hands... every idle word spoken from your lips... every deed made in secret... and every thought produced in your mind... is included in this book."
Another book materialized.
"This is the book of the Law. The book which will be used to judge your life." He glanced over his shoulder. "I hope you took a speed reading course," he snickered. "The Lord Judge is approaching."
"Wait, wait! Who will be defending me?"
His finger pointed at her. "Who knows your life better than you, therefore you won't need to read the book of your life. And you already know what is in the book of the Law. Nothing in it was hidden from you during your lifetime," he sneered and walked to the other table. "The line has been drawn. Let the battle begin."
Lara gasped when the second book was opened. The Ten Commandments were listed on the exposed page.
The floor shook with deep rumbles and a brilliant light bathed the room. The mist parted in front of them and, descending a set of stairs, a white light radiated with fierce intensity. Clashes of thunder rocked and reverberated throughout the room and the floor quaked.
Fear gripped Lara like an iron vise. Her limbs trembled and legs buckled. The books dropped from the table. While kneeling, she grabbed the books and held them close to her chest. A hand on the floor braced her body as a strong wind blew against her. The muscles around the vocal chords squeezed shut, and the jaw quivered. She panted, gulped, and looked down at the floor. A series of deep breaths were drawn to regain strength.
The wind receded to a gentle breeze. The floor throbbed with a heavy pulse. Silence fell on the room.
Lara pulled herself up and leaned against the table to steady her shaky legs.
Satan extended an arm towards Lara and spoke, "Lord Judge, here stands a representative of another feeble human's life that squandered the blessings bestowed upon her, flaunted Your Laws as nothing, and considered violence a necessity. Her life has demonstrated no consideration for the Supreme Being, a blatant disregard for others of her kind, and an unbending self-will. Disrespectful, arrogant, prideful, violent in nature, rebellious, and sexually promiscuous, I present the world renown Miss Lara Croft."
Lara straightened and mustered a sound above a whisper. "If I may have permission to speak, let me begin by saying I have always considered the Bible an extraordinary book written by reverent men--."
"Excuse me, Miss Lara Croft," the Accuser interrupted. "The author of the book of the Law is the Lord Judge, who dictated His words to those men. You of all people should understand, with the number of assistants and secretaries passing through your office. Tell me, the reports and letters produced by your secretaries, did the recipients of those correspondences ever come back to you and say those were not your words but your secretaries? In essence, what you are saying is this book should not be taken seriously since it is written by fallible men, and the verse, 'All Scripture is inspired by God...', is a lie." He raised his hands and looked forward. "My Lord Judge, I don't need to continue. Her own mouth proclaims what she believed during her lifetime. She doubted the authenticity of this book of the Law and its authorship, therefore, calling the Supreme Being a liar. An example of her disrespect and unbelief, and a disregard of the First Commandment."
"I didn't say that!" she countered.
"That is what you implied, Miss Lara Croft, and the Lord Judge does not take those implications lightly." He turned. "It is also noted in the book of her life, the numerous times the name of the Supreme Being was taken in vain. By last count it was thirty-six thousand five hundred seventy-six times. The commandment is clear regarding this, '...for the Lord will not leave him unpunished who takes His name in vain.' Another example of her disrespect to Your words."
Enraged, Lara blurted, "Exactly what am I being charged with?"
The Accuser stifled a snicker. "You know what the charges are, breaking the commandments in the book of the Law. That is what judgment day is all about."
"What about those who have never heard of the Bible or the Ten Commandments? What happens to them?"
"Well, now, that is not exactly your situation, Miss Lara Croft. Those people that you are so worried about will be judged on what they know. But in your case, you knew about the Ten Commandments, you knew about the Bible, and, all though you may deny it, you knew about judgment day." He winked.
"Am I being judged for breaking all the commandments? And if so, when did I do all that?" she huffed.
Satan faced forward. "My Lord Judge, all of her actions of stealing, robbing, killing, and various acts of mayhem, are highlighted in her book of life. Suffice it to say the conclusion from a random view through the pages is this woman was rebellious and violent in nature during her lifetime. There is no need to expound anymore than what is obvious."
Pages were flipped, and she pointed, "I have done a number of exemplary work and good deeds! Here are a few on this page!"
The Accuser's eyes went forward. "Did I mention she was prideful?" His head turned to her. "Miss Lara Croft, this is not the sort of trial in which a scorecard is kept to see how many good works outweigh your bad ones. We are here to see, to find out, to judge who you really are from your thoughts, words, and deeds, and how they measure up to the standards of the Supreme Being. Your mighty works have no bearing on these proceedings. Or haven't you read, '... all your righteous deeds are like a filthy garment.'" He looked forward. "It is also highlighted the many times she coveted the possessions of others and desired sexual knowledge of many men. A random scan through the pages should make this evident to all."
In a fit of rage, she asked, "What are you looking for? I will admit I haven't been totally good, but I am not an evil person!"
Satan walked to her table. "Let me show you what is being looked at. First, a demonstration. Are you thirsty, Miss Lara Croft?"
A tall empty glass materialized on her table. A small glass of clear liquid appeared next to the tall glass.
Lara stepped back. "What are you doing?"
"An example," he emphasized. "This is pure, clear water. Take a sip."
Apprehensive, Lara passed the small glass under her nose and sipped.
"Refreshing," she said in a guarded tone.
Another small glass of a brown fluid appeared on the table. An offensive stench assaulted her nose.
"This is raw sewage. Would you like a sip?"
"No, thank you!" she protested and pinched her nose.
"Very well," he smirked. The clear water and the brown fluid were poured into the tall glass. He pushed it towards her. "Here, drink this."
"No way!" she shouted.
"No? Why not, Miss Lara Croft? Half of it is pure, clear water. Why do you protest?"
"It's completely filthy!" she answered and pushed the glass aside.
He leaned forward and pointed at the glass. "This glass represents you, and this is how the Lord Judge is looking at your life, with all its good and bad deeds combined. Completely filthy." He straightened up. "Haven't you read this verse, '... for God sees not as man sees, for man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.' So, Miss Lara Croft, don't assume the way you see things will be the same way the Lord Judge will see it." He returned to his table.
The weight of his words pulled a frown on Lara's mouth. Her hand reached to touch the glass, but it disappeared. A shudder ran down her spine.
"In completion, my Lord Judge, I present to You a visual display." His arm waved behind him.
A giant screen appeared.
Lara turned about and watched.
A large building illuminated on the screen and the viewpoint drifted through the gate.
"That's my father's house," she murmured.
The view came closer to the building. A hysterical scream was heard.
Puzzled, Lara asked, "Who was that?"
"That was your mother's reaction upon receiving the news of a plane crash in the Himalayas," the Accuser smiled.
The view floated to an open window, journeyed through the immense room, and stopped at the doorway to the foyer. As the view approached the foyer, the screaming and wailing became unbearably loud.
On the pristine tile floor laid the quaking body of Lady Croft. An overturned chair and a fallen phone from a vanity table rested at her feet. Mournful cries resonated in the foyer and dreadful screams grated the ears. "Lara! Lara! My baby! My baby! Oh, Lara!" A hand gripped her side while the other covered her face. A reservoir poured from her eyes. Concerned servants stood nearby. Unable to comfort her, they shook their hands from indecision and wiped tears from their cheeks.
Lara's lower lip trembled and her eyes moistened.
The screen's view fell back through the immense room and faded to black.
The Accuser spoke in a low voice, "Later on, Henshingly Croft was informed."
The view on the screen entered the study in the Croft mansion. Lord Croft sat behind a desk with his forehead on its surface. Arms wrapped over the top of his head. Groaning without end, he breathed erratically. Red-faced and teary-eyed, he blubbered, "Oh God, why did You take her away from us? Why did You take away our joy? If someone had to die, why wasn't it me instead of her? Why the young ones, and why her? Please, God, send her back to us. Send her back and take me in her place. I cannot bare this pain! My heart is ripped! I cannot bare it! I cannot stand the pain!" His arms flailed and knocked the items on the desk. A screech erupted from his throat, and his hands overturned the desk. He leapt to a small bookcase and flung the contents to the floor. The crash of the desk brought servants to the doorway. Lord Croft knelt on the floor and moaned, "Please, God, help me! I cannot bare this pain!"
Lara closed her eyes and mumbled, "I have never seen him this way before." Tears fell off her cheeks.
The view changed to a scene inside a chapel. Lord and Lady Croft's expressions were closely focused, while the minister's voice echoed above the soft whimpers. Lord Croft's sad eyes betrayed his calm demeanor. A hand comforted his blurry-eyed and sedated wife. Her head wobbled in denial.
The screen faded to black.
"News of your survival reached the Croft mansion. Your arrival came weeks later."
The screen lit up with a view in front of the mansion. Cars stopped at the main entrance, and two figures raced down the steps to greet the occupants. Joy overwhelmed the group, especially for the young lady who emerged and fell into the awaiting arms of her mother. Lady Croft cried, embraced, and kissed the young woman. Men from the cars smiled, and servants from the house wept, as they circled the two and stood in silence.
The scene changed to a formal dinner table. Invited guests feasted around the huge decorative settings. Laughter and cheerful banter were shared. Everyone quieted down when Lord Croft stood and greeted.
"Thank you all for accepting our invitation on this joyous occasion. My daughter has survived a horrible experience, but has returned home safely. I give thanks to God and bless Him for bringing her back to us."
"Excuse me, Father, but I don't think God had anything to do with it. My will to survive sustained me during those days on the mountain, and my determination to live brought me out of it."
Stunned, Lord Croft spoke, "Lara, what are you saying? You were the only survivor. How can you speak that way?"
"Yes, I was the only survivor. But why me? Why didn't anybody else survive? Why would God allow me to live and the others die? Why didn't He save us all? I lost my friends! I lost all of my friends on that plane! Didn't He consider their families as well? How could a loving God allow them to suffer?" The young woman dropped the napkin on the plate, stood, and walked out of the room.
The scene faded and the screen disappeared.
"My Lord Judge, if I were to bring one charge, and only one charge against this woman, this would be it. She has taken Your blessing of living through a plane crash and has equated it with fortunate luck, a happenstance, a chance survival. Then instead of giving thanks to Your providence, she doubted Your existence and refused to worship Your sovereignty, and continued throughout her lifetime. Therefore, Miss Lara Croft is charged, above all else, with breaking the First Commandment." He closed the books on his table. "The accusation is clear, 'Everyone who practices sin also practices lawlessness; and sin is lawlessness.' And the judgment is clear and written in the book of the Law, 'For whoever keeps the whole law and yet stumbles in one point, he has become guilty of all.'" He paused. "The punishment is also clear and written, 'For the wages of sin is death.'" His arm rose towards Lara. "Miss Lara Croft has broken the Law, and her punishment must be death."
Her head was bowed and she wiped her eyes. Moments passed before her low soft voice uttered a word.
"If I may have permission to speak. My life has been spotted with disobedience to the Law, and most of my good deeds cannot cover-up the rebelliousness of my nature. I understand in this hall You are looking at who I am and not what I have done. But, from what I have read in the book of the Law, it seems You want us to live the perfect life. I may not be the first to say it, Lord Judge, and may not be the last, but human beings are not perfect. We stumble, we fall, we make mistakes. Shouldn't You have allowed for that? Otherwise, if the end result is to be judged on an imperfect life by the perfect standard, then I have no defense. My only recourse is to fall before You and plead for mercy--."
Satan interrupted, "The time for mercy has passed, Lord Judge. This hall is where judgment is given and nothing else. You have proclaimed Your word is unbending and Your laws are just. You must pass judgment on this woman according to Your word. Should You decide to show mercy on her within this hall of judgment, then You have broken Your own word, bent the Law for her sake, and shown Your laws are not just. And why her?" He walked around to the front of the table and opened his arms. "Why not the others who were here before she arrived, and the others to come thereafter? Should they not also be shown mercy? And if all fallible humans are shown mercy, why not the fallen angels? For by one decision and one rebel act, they were cast out of Your presence and banished from Your sight. Why not mercy for them?" A step was taken forward. "And if mercy is given to them, why not me, the first and greatest of Your creations." He pointed to Lara and spat, "Judgment must be passed on this woman, or mercy must be given to all!"
The heavy silence lingered in the hall. The floor throbbed at a slower rate.
Lara stood on unsteady legs and her shoulders drooped. Her eyes focused on the table's surface and watched the books disappear.
A voice emanated within her head. "Miss Lara Croft, you are guilty of the charges. Your punishment is death."
Two sets of hands grabbed her arms.
Dark forms appeared within the foggy perimeter, unidentifiable shadows standing inside the haze.
Before reaching the table, she noticed her clothing. A creamy white silk and chiffon gown, with a small train of cloth, was draped across her body. Brown leather sandals wrapped around her feet. Her hands were placed on the cool smooth surface of the table. Her eyes drifted to the left.
A handsome male stood behind another table. His bronze armored outfit reminded her of a Roman gladiator. His head turned, and he grinned, "Hello, Miss Lara Croft. It is a pleasure to see you again and, this time, face to face." He swaggered to her and extended a hand.
Lara shook it and found his grip to be crushing and cold. "May I ask who you are? And where I am?"
With his eyebrows raised, he spoke, "I'm shocked. A smart girl like you, and you don't have a clue of where you are or who I am? Tsk, tsk." He sat on her table. "I'm rather hurt by that remark. After all we have been through, the many adventures, the close calls." His head shook. "I have been involved in every aspect of your life. I know every intimate detail about you. Every action, every word, every deed, and you don't know anything about me?" He pouted and tilted his head.
Lara studied him from head to toe. His handsome face and 'Mr. Universe' physique did not stir a memory cell. Someone as broad shouldered with a rock solid form and a stunning face would never have been forgotten, even from a brief meeting. In regret, she shook her head. "I can't recall ever meeting you. I am sorry."
A smile crept across his face. "No need to apologize. I planned it that way."
Surprised, her brow furrowed. "Who are you?"
"I have many names, Miss Lara Croft, but only a few I truly favor. One of them is Lucifer, son of the Morningstar. On earth, it's the Devil, Prince of Darkness, Father of Lies." A small tiger's growl came from his throat. "But here, I am known as Satan the Adversary, the Accuser." He bowed.
Lara stepped back. "You are nothing what I imagined."
"Credit my very effective public relations department. Humans want to imagine evil as ugly and grotesque, but it can be as beautiful as a rose with poisonous thorns. So we let you continue with the imagination. It influences everybody to think whatever's ugly is evil," he chuckled.
"I don't remember anytime in my life I had dealings with you, other than battles with horrendous demons," she argued.
"Ahhh, yes... and those were classic battles, if I recall. Very skillful, very tension-filled, very exciting... and the blood and gore all over the place," he whistled. "They were all underlings and powers within my control. Didn't anyone tell you demons cannot be killed? They were all anxiously waiting in the background for another chance to tangle with you, but I wouldn't let them. You were my prized possession." He winked.
"I never belonged to you!" she retorted.
He leaned forward. "You would think that. But, truthfully, Miss Lara Croft, you have followed all of my suggestions. Therefore, I was the greatest influence in your life."
"When did I listen to you?" she grilled.
"Let me give you an example." His hands rubbed. "It was some time after you returned from the fateful Himalayan trip. Your father coddled and protected you, at times to a stifling point. He insisted and pressed it was time for you to consider marriage and make a home of your own. You withstood and resisted his arguments, until your anger could not be held back any longer. With venom spewing from the mouth, you erupted and rebelled against his demands." He trilled like an incoming missile. "I came around and whispered in your ear, 'Wouldn't it be nice to be on your own and not listen to him anymore or live under his rules?' You took that suggestion hook, line, and sinker. What a confrontation you had with him," he laughed.
She snarled, "But he threw me out of the house!"
"Of course he did. You trampled on his pride. You rebelled against his authority. And, with a little coaxing from me, he showed you the door and gave you the old heave-ho."
Her eyes glared at him. "We have reconciled. I am welcomed back home."
"Reconciled, but not forgotten. It still hurts when you recall that incident, doesn't it?"
Lara frowned and looked away. "If that didn't happen, I wouldn't be where I am now!"
"That's right." He waved an opened hand across the air. "The great Lara Croft, the distinguished archaeologist, the intrepid adventurer, the 'Tomb Raider'. You wouldn't be where you are now, without me. I laid ambition at your feet, and you ran for it."
"It wasn't ambition, it was survival!" she grunted.
"Call it as you will. You took any adventuring job in the beginning, regardless how unscrupulous it was, all in the name of 'survival'," he snickered. "What you did was steal from kings, governments, and individuals, Miss Lara Croft."
"I had good reasons for my actions!"
"Now you can justify your actions, but back then it was stealing. Fortunate for you, a number of your articles were published that kept you out of the poor house, until you hit it big with the Big Foot discovery. You almost became an overnight celebrity. And soon after, 'survival' became 'ambition'." He folded his hands.
"I did what I loved to do! Is there something wrong with that?" she scowled.
His hands went up. "No, no. On the contrary, I applaud your adventures. Hooray for tomb raiding, hooray for your degree in archaeology, hooray for all the accolades bestowed on you. You were my greatest proponent to show the world what strength, beauty, and education can achieve. Everybody wanted to be like you," he smirked.
She snapped, "Is it so wrong I should be someone else's ideal?"
"Rebellious, violent in nature, unscrupulous, and sensual." He looked up and paused. "Everything I would look for in a woman. As long as society praises and glorifies you, and holds you up as an ideal, you would hear no complaints from me. I applaud it, because I was there, nurturing you from beginning to end. So you see, Miss Lara Croft, my subtle suggestions, my well-timed whispers, directed you to a greater glory before the world. That's why I can say I was your greatest influence."
She shouted, "You're lying! You said you are the Father of Lies, so why should I believe you now?"
He grinned, "Denial, another powerful weapon in my arsenal. Deny I have any involvement in your life. Deny a being like me exists. Deny all that, and my subtle influences will be as invisible as the air you breathed. A very powerful weapon, I must say. And who do you think gave you that thought of denial in the first place?" His fist closed and an extended thumb touched his chest. "I did."
"I don't believe you! You are lying!"
He stood. "I would love to continue this 'yes I did, no you didn't, yes I did' kind of banter, but all good things must come to an end. To give a final answer to your question, in this hall of judgment I must speak truthfully because the Lord Judge requires it."
Her eyes widened. "What? Hall of judgment? What are you talking about?"
"I am talking about judgment day. Your judgment day, Miss Lara Croft. Like I said before, all things must end." He winked.
Shaken, she questioned, "Am I... dead?"
"Your body is dead, but spiritually, you are still alive to face judgment."
"How did it happen? How did my body die?" Her eyes drooped and a brief expression of pain crossed her face.
He replied, "How you died is not important. What's important is when you died. It is written, '...it is appointed for men to die once and after this comes judgment'. Everyone has an appointment with death, but nobody expects judgment to come afterwards. Again, the advantage is mine. In this hall of judgment, I am Satan the Adversary, the Accuser, the prosecuting attorney to the defendant standing behind this table."
"You are going to prosecute me?"
He nodded, "Very much so."
In a stern voice, she asked, "What am I being charged with?"
"Let me remind you this is not a courtroom like the ones you have on earth, but yet it wouldn't be fair to spring the charges up without seeing them."
A large book materialized on the table.
"This, Miss Lara Croft, is the book of your life. Every action, every word, every deed, every thought, is written in this book." He leaned closer. "Let me repeat myself so it will sink in better and you may feel the full weight of these words. Every action done with your hands... every idle word spoken from your lips... every deed made in secret... and every thought produced in your mind... is included in this book."
Another book materialized.
"This is the book of the Law. The book which will be used to judge your life." He glanced over his shoulder. "I hope you took a speed reading course," he snickered. "The Lord Judge is approaching."
"Wait, wait! Who will be defending me?"
His finger pointed at her. "Who knows your life better than you, therefore you won't need to read the book of your life. And you already know what is in the book of the Law. Nothing in it was hidden from you during your lifetime," he sneered and walked to the other table. "The line has been drawn. Let the battle begin."
Lara gasped when the second book was opened. The Ten Commandments were listed on the exposed page.
The floor shook with deep rumbles and a brilliant light bathed the room. The mist parted in front of them and, descending a set of stairs, a white light radiated with fierce intensity. Clashes of thunder rocked and reverberated throughout the room and the floor quaked.
Fear gripped Lara like an iron vise. Her limbs trembled and legs buckled. The books dropped from the table. While kneeling, she grabbed the books and held them close to her chest. A hand on the floor braced her body as a strong wind blew against her. The muscles around the vocal chords squeezed shut, and the jaw quivered. She panted, gulped, and looked down at the floor. A series of deep breaths were drawn to regain strength.
The wind receded to a gentle breeze. The floor throbbed with a heavy pulse. Silence fell on the room.
Lara pulled herself up and leaned against the table to steady her shaky legs.
Satan extended an arm towards Lara and spoke, "Lord Judge, here stands a representative of another feeble human's life that squandered the blessings bestowed upon her, flaunted Your Laws as nothing, and considered violence a necessity. Her life has demonstrated no consideration for the Supreme Being, a blatant disregard for others of her kind, and an unbending self-will. Disrespectful, arrogant, prideful, violent in nature, rebellious, and sexually promiscuous, I present the world renown Miss Lara Croft."
Lara straightened and mustered a sound above a whisper. "If I may have permission to speak, let me begin by saying I have always considered the Bible an extraordinary book written by reverent men--."
"Excuse me, Miss Lara Croft," the Accuser interrupted. "The author of the book of the Law is the Lord Judge, who dictated His words to those men. You of all people should understand, with the number of assistants and secretaries passing through your office. Tell me, the reports and letters produced by your secretaries, did the recipients of those correspondences ever come back to you and say those were not your words but your secretaries? In essence, what you are saying is this book should not be taken seriously since it is written by fallible men, and the verse, 'All Scripture is inspired by God...', is a lie." He raised his hands and looked forward. "My Lord Judge, I don't need to continue. Her own mouth proclaims what she believed during her lifetime. She doubted the authenticity of this book of the Law and its authorship, therefore, calling the Supreme Being a liar. An example of her disrespect and unbelief, and a disregard of the First Commandment."
"I didn't say that!" she countered.
"That is what you implied, Miss Lara Croft, and the Lord Judge does not take those implications lightly." He turned. "It is also noted in the book of her life, the numerous times the name of the Supreme Being was taken in vain. By last count it was thirty-six thousand five hundred seventy-six times. The commandment is clear regarding this, '...for the Lord will not leave him unpunished who takes His name in vain.' Another example of her disrespect to Your words."
Enraged, Lara blurted, "Exactly what am I being charged with?"
The Accuser stifled a snicker. "You know what the charges are, breaking the commandments in the book of the Law. That is what judgment day is all about."
"What about those who have never heard of the Bible or the Ten Commandments? What happens to them?"
"Well, now, that is not exactly your situation, Miss Lara Croft. Those people that you are so worried about will be judged on what they know. But in your case, you knew about the Ten Commandments, you knew about the Bible, and, all though you may deny it, you knew about judgment day." He winked.
"Am I being judged for breaking all the commandments? And if so, when did I do all that?" she huffed.
Satan faced forward. "My Lord Judge, all of her actions of stealing, robbing, killing, and various acts of mayhem, are highlighted in her book of life. Suffice it to say the conclusion from a random view through the pages is this woman was rebellious and violent in nature during her lifetime. There is no need to expound anymore than what is obvious."
Pages were flipped, and she pointed, "I have done a number of exemplary work and good deeds! Here are a few on this page!"
The Accuser's eyes went forward. "Did I mention she was prideful?" His head turned to her. "Miss Lara Croft, this is not the sort of trial in which a scorecard is kept to see how many good works outweigh your bad ones. We are here to see, to find out, to judge who you really are from your thoughts, words, and deeds, and how they measure up to the standards of the Supreme Being. Your mighty works have no bearing on these proceedings. Or haven't you read, '... all your righteous deeds are like a filthy garment.'" He looked forward. "It is also highlighted the many times she coveted the possessions of others and desired sexual knowledge of many men. A random scan through the pages should make this evident to all."
In a fit of rage, she asked, "What are you looking for? I will admit I haven't been totally good, but I am not an evil person!"
Satan walked to her table. "Let me show you what is being looked at. First, a demonstration. Are you thirsty, Miss Lara Croft?"
A tall empty glass materialized on her table. A small glass of clear liquid appeared next to the tall glass.
Lara stepped back. "What are you doing?"
"An example," he emphasized. "This is pure, clear water. Take a sip."
Apprehensive, Lara passed the small glass under her nose and sipped.
"Refreshing," she said in a guarded tone.
Another small glass of a brown fluid appeared on the table. An offensive stench assaulted her nose.
"This is raw sewage. Would you like a sip?"
"No, thank you!" she protested and pinched her nose.
"Very well," he smirked. The clear water and the brown fluid were poured into the tall glass. He pushed it towards her. "Here, drink this."
"No way!" she shouted.
"No? Why not, Miss Lara Croft? Half of it is pure, clear water. Why do you protest?"
"It's completely filthy!" she answered and pushed the glass aside.
He leaned forward and pointed at the glass. "This glass represents you, and this is how the Lord Judge is looking at your life, with all its good and bad deeds combined. Completely filthy." He straightened up. "Haven't you read this verse, '... for God sees not as man sees, for man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.' So, Miss Lara Croft, don't assume the way you see things will be the same way the Lord Judge will see it." He returned to his table.
The weight of his words pulled a frown on Lara's mouth. Her hand reached to touch the glass, but it disappeared. A shudder ran down her spine.
"In completion, my Lord Judge, I present to You a visual display." His arm waved behind him.
A giant screen appeared.
Lara turned about and watched.
A large building illuminated on the screen and the viewpoint drifted through the gate.
"That's my father's house," she murmured.
The view came closer to the building. A hysterical scream was heard.
Puzzled, Lara asked, "Who was that?"
"That was your mother's reaction upon receiving the news of a plane crash in the Himalayas," the Accuser smiled.
The view floated to an open window, journeyed through the immense room, and stopped at the doorway to the foyer. As the view approached the foyer, the screaming and wailing became unbearably loud.
On the pristine tile floor laid the quaking body of Lady Croft. An overturned chair and a fallen phone from a vanity table rested at her feet. Mournful cries resonated in the foyer and dreadful screams grated the ears. "Lara! Lara! My baby! My baby! Oh, Lara!" A hand gripped her side while the other covered her face. A reservoir poured from her eyes. Concerned servants stood nearby. Unable to comfort her, they shook their hands from indecision and wiped tears from their cheeks.
Lara's lower lip trembled and her eyes moistened.
The screen's view fell back through the immense room and faded to black.
The Accuser spoke in a low voice, "Later on, Henshingly Croft was informed."
The view on the screen entered the study in the Croft mansion. Lord Croft sat behind a desk with his forehead on its surface. Arms wrapped over the top of his head. Groaning without end, he breathed erratically. Red-faced and teary-eyed, he blubbered, "Oh God, why did You take her away from us? Why did You take away our joy? If someone had to die, why wasn't it me instead of her? Why the young ones, and why her? Please, God, send her back to us. Send her back and take me in her place. I cannot bare this pain! My heart is ripped! I cannot bare it! I cannot stand the pain!" His arms flailed and knocked the items on the desk. A screech erupted from his throat, and his hands overturned the desk. He leapt to a small bookcase and flung the contents to the floor. The crash of the desk brought servants to the doorway. Lord Croft knelt on the floor and moaned, "Please, God, help me! I cannot bare this pain!"
Lara closed her eyes and mumbled, "I have never seen him this way before." Tears fell off her cheeks.
The view changed to a scene inside a chapel. Lord and Lady Croft's expressions were closely focused, while the minister's voice echoed above the soft whimpers. Lord Croft's sad eyes betrayed his calm demeanor. A hand comforted his blurry-eyed and sedated wife. Her head wobbled in denial.
The screen faded to black.
"News of your survival reached the Croft mansion. Your arrival came weeks later."
The screen lit up with a view in front of the mansion. Cars stopped at the main entrance, and two figures raced down the steps to greet the occupants. Joy overwhelmed the group, especially for the young lady who emerged and fell into the awaiting arms of her mother. Lady Croft cried, embraced, and kissed the young woman. Men from the cars smiled, and servants from the house wept, as they circled the two and stood in silence.
The scene changed to a formal dinner table. Invited guests feasted around the huge decorative settings. Laughter and cheerful banter were shared. Everyone quieted down when Lord Croft stood and greeted.
"Thank you all for accepting our invitation on this joyous occasion. My daughter has survived a horrible experience, but has returned home safely. I give thanks to God and bless Him for bringing her back to us."
"Excuse me, Father, but I don't think God had anything to do with it. My will to survive sustained me during those days on the mountain, and my determination to live brought me out of it."
Stunned, Lord Croft spoke, "Lara, what are you saying? You were the only survivor. How can you speak that way?"
"Yes, I was the only survivor. But why me? Why didn't anybody else survive? Why would God allow me to live and the others die? Why didn't He save us all? I lost my friends! I lost all of my friends on that plane! Didn't He consider their families as well? How could a loving God allow them to suffer?" The young woman dropped the napkin on the plate, stood, and walked out of the room.
The scene faded and the screen disappeared.
"My Lord Judge, if I were to bring one charge, and only one charge against this woman, this would be it. She has taken Your blessing of living through a plane crash and has equated it with fortunate luck, a happenstance, a chance survival. Then instead of giving thanks to Your providence, she doubted Your existence and refused to worship Your sovereignty, and continued throughout her lifetime. Therefore, Miss Lara Croft is charged, above all else, with breaking the First Commandment." He closed the books on his table. "The accusation is clear, 'Everyone who practices sin also practices lawlessness; and sin is lawlessness.' And the judgment is clear and written in the book of the Law, 'For whoever keeps the whole law and yet stumbles in one point, he has become guilty of all.'" He paused. "The punishment is also clear and written, 'For the wages of sin is death.'" His arm rose towards Lara. "Miss Lara Croft has broken the Law, and her punishment must be death."
Her head was bowed and she wiped her eyes. Moments passed before her low soft voice uttered a word.
"If I may have permission to speak. My life has been spotted with disobedience to the Law, and most of my good deeds cannot cover-up the rebelliousness of my nature. I understand in this hall You are looking at who I am and not what I have done. But, from what I have read in the book of the Law, it seems You want us to live the perfect life. I may not be the first to say it, Lord Judge, and may not be the last, but human beings are not perfect. We stumble, we fall, we make mistakes. Shouldn't You have allowed for that? Otherwise, if the end result is to be judged on an imperfect life by the perfect standard, then I have no defense. My only recourse is to fall before You and plead for mercy--."
Satan interrupted, "The time for mercy has passed, Lord Judge. This hall is where judgment is given and nothing else. You have proclaimed Your word is unbending and Your laws are just. You must pass judgment on this woman according to Your word. Should You decide to show mercy on her within this hall of judgment, then You have broken Your own word, bent the Law for her sake, and shown Your laws are not just. And why her?" He walked around to the front of the table and opened his arms. "Why not the others who were here before she arrived, and the others to come thereafter? Should they not also be shown mercy? And if all fallible humans are shown mercy, why not the fallen angels? For by one decision and one rebel act, they were cast out of Your presence and banished from Your sight. Why not mercy for them?" A step was taken forward. "And if mercy is given to them, why not me, the first and greatest of Your creations." He pointed to Lara and spat, "Judgment must be passed on this woman, or mercy must be given to all!"
The heavy silence lingered in the hall. The floor throbbed at a slower rate.
Lara stood on unsteady legs and her shoulders drooped. Her eyes focused on the table's surface and watched the books disappear.
A voice emanated within her head. "Miss Lara Croft, you are guilty of the charges. Your punishment is death."
Two sets of hands grabbed her arms.
