okay first i want to thank svenskaya for all your help. this is going to be a long story so be sure to check every now and then for updates. i got the whole story thought out. it's just a matter of putting in words and uploading. it's going to be a two part saga and all i can say is enjoy. please for the love of cheese give me some reviews.
For legal purposes I do not own Kurtis Trent or Lara Croft in any way shape or form. They belong to eidos or crystal dynamics or something. I stopped keeping track.
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--Chapter 1:Friends Of Darkness--
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A memory flashes before open eyes.
Back to the wall, silent as the grave. Breath so soft it slipped out of her lips without making a sound. Only the cold sensation of it against parched lips reminded her that she was still breathing. Ready. The scratching sound of metal against metal. There it is again, louder. Heart pounding furiously beneath her chest. Adrenaline pumping a thrilling anxiety through her veins. Scratch-shing, scratch-shing, scratch-shing. Trembling fingers danced along the textured grip of her weapon and then take hold of it in a single swift maneuver. Delicately, gently, smoothly, quietly, calmly, gradually removing it from it's holster at her thigh. Left hand mimics this action perfectly. Elbows bend in unison bringing the weapons up near her head. The icy steel of their barrels almost touching her pallid cheeks. Somber eyes gazed unfocused at the wall in front of them. It's detailed carvings not holding any fascination in her minds eye. Only listening, now. All other senses left virtually untapped. Almost. Just around the corner, the unsettling sounds of it's steady movements echo relentlessly in her ears. Scratch-shing, scratch-shing,….Now!
Flame touched irises gaze into the blackened sockets where it's eyes should look back upon her own. No emotion not even hatred. A dead thing . Pledged to guard it's masters treasure for all eternity. Flesh had long since worn away leaving only ragged bones. Armor was it's only covering. Rusted and ancient. A long sword; a large shield. These are it's articles of warfare. Cursed in all respects. The two regard each other for a moment. Pistols aimed at it's skull. Sword pointed aggressively.Separated by a distance of about 20 feet. Distance is not much to seperate foes.
"Ello chum."
Triggers were squeezed loosing bullets to ravage it's seemingly fragile frame. The sound would speak of destruction. Steel no longer cold in her hands, but heated. The weapons have come alive in her grip. They jerk as if living with each shot fired. She too had felt a stir within causing lips to curl satisfactorily. Not to last. It became apparent that her onslaught was doing nothing to diminish the creature. Not even did it shift during the attack. Plink, plink, plink. Used shells fell harmlessly to the ground. Fingers slid from triggers in defeat. Weapons are returned to their holsters. Yet she is unabashed. There is more than one way to skin a cat. Free hands fidgeted expectedly at her sides. Anxious.
Warm breath escaped smoothly through parted lips. Your turn.
Bony feet clattered as they impacted the ground. One then the other. Scratch-shing. That loathsome and memorable reverberation. She stood in wait for the right moment to act though it no longer walked but ran toward her fiercely. A hint of hatred now apparent in it's callous expression. Wait for it. Blade held high ready to slash. The scratch of metal against metal, the clatter of bone against stone, the thump of her heart against her chest. Reflection captured in the glinting blade. She looked at her own image. A moment so still it would last longer than the seconds it actually took. Everything happened so fast it felt slow.
Dark pits instead of eyes. Should it's eyes look upon her they would gleam with evil delight. Swoosh. Cutting across air to greet her neck with it's bitter sweet coolness. Maybe next time. Ducking quickly she scurried beneath his thrust and made a run for it. The sharp edge bit into the corner of the stone wall sending bits of debris flying. A couple of which hit Lara in the back of the head. Ouch!
No time to look back. Not necessary either. The incessant scraping of metal urged her to keep running faster and faster. Damn, damn, damn! Think of something! Athletic vigor kept her considerably ahead of the creature although one false move would forsake her. Pillars pass by the way and archways cast shadows down on her fleeting form.
"Whoa!"
The ground broke off into a sheer drop before her. Powerful muscles strained as knees bent slightly to vault her body far into the air. Flying over the pit; legs treading thin air. Arms spread like fragile wings. Absolute freedom despite the circumstances.
Collision of soft flesh with solid stone. A rude awakening. Lithe body flung onto the hard surface with a slap. I'll be feeling that in the morning…if I make it that far. She forced herself to roll over with much pain. Only momentary pain but it sure did smart. The creature would not be stopped by a mere gap over a bottomless precipice. That would be letting her off easy. The usual scratch-shing met her ears shortly. It would be upon her within 30 seconds. Thinking fast she forced her sore body into a standing position. As expected it came in a hurry swinging it's sword and shield at it's sides. The weight of which were probably the only things that gave her an advantage of speed. Hands, shaky from excitement, reached for the shotgun strapped to her back. She would have to time it just right or else. Upon reaching the edge it soared into the air at a supernatural height. Even higher than she herself had jumped. Too bad this marvelous stunt would have to be cut short of landing. One eye closed. Aim…
BOOM!
The war cry of a shotgun. Bony arms and legs flailed desperately as it's spine bent backwards making a revolting crunching sound. Falling fast; shadows claimed it's figure. She looked down at it as it fell. Farwell. It didn't scream but she felt a frantic shriek reverberate throughout herself. No sound just a feeling. The sensation seized her like the creature was somehow grasping at her beyond it's physicality. Curious. It caught her off guard and made her feel strangely distressed. This sequence of events often came back to her. It stuck in her mind for some reason, unexplainable. She had thought it sport to find ingenious ways of destroying such creatures. Shoving them into ravines, blowing them up, and blowing off their heads. Why was it any different then? It meant something. Perhaps something she was yet to find out. Everything was so real when it came to her in the night. She could feel the harshness of the wall she leaned against. She could clearly see the emptiness in it's dark emotionless eye sockets.. She could hear the scratch-shing of metal against metal as if it was sneaking about in her very room. Most of all though, she could sense that horrid shriek traverse her entire body. Chills ran down her spine and that's when she woke up, mouth agape as if she was the one falling to her doom and shrieking madly. No one knew of it though. Lara Croft wasn't afraid of nightmares. Afraid isn't the word. Troubled is more apt.
Another question. Why had it come to her now? Maybe it was that same distressing feeling felt as she stood awaiting her destiny.
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Lara Croft. A strange thing to behold in such a place as this. Standing before a fateful darkness. A pool of crimson life fluid. So precious, so worthlessly spilled out. Is it such a little thing? Behind her and before her now in the privacy of her mind. A common sight to and yet it cries out to be different. These eyes shed not tears. It would be counted a weakness against her. This can not be allowed. All manner of thoughts invade her mind. None of which are reassuring in the least. All of them scared little thoughts. Thoughts of doom and loss. Mostly of loss, but this can not be allowed. This must be ignored. That's the way. Ignore everything but getting out of here alive. Damn the cost. This has served you well. Nothing else… no one else matters now. Questions abound whereas answers are few. Answers leading to more questions. Leading to more confusion. Truth more perplexing than a fabricated reality where she longed to be. At home. Away from anything that reminded her of what had taken place in the last few days, hours even. Dwelling on fictitious things gets one nowhere. That is why she must go on now…into the confusion. Truth. It is the only thing that can clear her name.
--"Abandon all hope ye who enter here."--
The air is cold and foreboding. Intermittent sounds of questionable origin faintly whisper...whisper of something sinister. The only light, the chirugai. It's warm luminosity fights against the darkness making a small patch of ground visible before her. This, though, is not a comfort, as the ground is stained with the blood of many victims. She is forced onward down this path, her footsteps echoing slightly behind her. Something inside wills her to keep moving though the darkness creeps down her spine as though it were a living thing with nothing better to do than warn her of some danger real or imagined. Forward, it prods, and she is helpless against it's irresistible manipulation. It is hollow and dead inside these walls. They would crush you as soon as shelter you. A dungeon of sorts. Air so stagnant and choking. Thick with vile odors. Short breaths are all she can manage. Would you kill me without a battle?
Her leather gloved hand reaches instinctively for the cold steel of her pistol. She knows the proto-nephilim can't be killed with a mere barrage of bullets but if it slowed them down it would quite literally be worth a shot . Those shards would be of a lot more use in my hand than jammed into Echkhardt's corpse under so much rubble.
Ears catch the steady rhythm of her own steps; eyes dart about at whatever the meager amount of light would allow her to see. Nothing for a period of time, immeasurable in length. Forever and a day. It doesn't matter, nor can it be told with certainty. There is something about the absence of light that would blind other senses as well as sight. Such a disagreeable thing, is darkness. In the way of progress and unashamed at that.
The light being brought in via chirugai mocks it's intolerableness. In return the foreign invaders seem intolerable to the darkness. The air becomes more stifling. Another warning perhaps. Her movement continues unaffected by the growing uneasiness. All signs point to something ahead. Something unknown but menacing nonetheless. This feeling is familiar, and ironically encouraging to her. Lara could always sense danger. It was a 'sixth sense' that proved extremely useful in her tomb raiding days. Haven't lost my touch I see. Full lips curl up for a split second then frown once more. This is no time to be smiling at one's cleverness.
The swift do not have the race, nor the mighty the battle. Words of wisdom. Anything can happen out there, but it's here I'm worried about even more so. All this time she had been avoiding even the thought of him. A distraction. This can not be allowed. If he was alive she would be pleased and if not…
A minute rustle from behind. Instinctively, she swivels to face the disturbance. Gun pointed intrepidly erect before her, it's very tip daring to disappear into the shadows that envelope her. Nothing…This defensive stance is a held a few seconds more to make sure nothing is lingering in wait for her back to turn. Even as she turns her attention is held fast on listening for whatever it was that made that sound. Sounds don't make themselves. Or was it she who made the sound? Not of physical means but of mental ones. As was said, the darkness can blind other senses. Perception is not safe from it. It likes to play tricks on those who would stumble along in it's grasp. Darkness is a mean spirited thing. Toying with it's victims cruelly, and thinking nothing of it. Do not linger here. At this beckoning she moves onward. What choice does she have?
The monotony of this trek does not put her at ease. A fool would walk this distance and think nothing would happen since it hadn't thus far. They would let their guard down. Assume nothing. They want to fool you into a false sense of security. Why trust them to give you an easy time about your business? The bastards have something planned. I know they're here. I can feel their disgusting presence. Why aren't they attacking?! Such unsettling thoughts. She is unwilling to go any further down this 'one-way street'. Logic forces it's way into the panic stricken moment. You have no choice.
A chilling tension grips her whole body. Breath grows still as heart speeds up. Never, save a few instances, had she ever felt this frightened. It scared her to be so scared. Had she lost control? Was she going nuts from the stress of this whole thing? Those cruel eyes flash before her. The eyes of a merciless madman. Joachim Karel. They looked down at her with such hatred. A shudder passes through her body. So alone and afraid. This memory would always haunt her. Such was it's imprint on her psyche. The walls seem to close in on her fragile body. Alone. The poignancy of this one word echoes through her mind again and again like drops of rain accosting a rooftop. Claustrophobia sets in. Shaking knees try to buckle, but using the last ounces of strength in her possession she resists. Vision grows blurry…tiny spots of light. Everything seemed to be disappearing from awareness. A terrifying loss of stability. Zoning out…losing; falling.
Don't give up! The thought was so tenderly put into her mind that it calmed all her extreme emotions instantly. Lashes fall over weary eyes to concentrate. They rise slowly moments later upon reaching a decision. Alright. I can do this. Chest undulates slowly with steady even breaths. Strength returns to her members as they receive oxygen, and her mind clears of these distractions. Calmness takes over along with a want to continue. One booted foot treads the surface of the ground delicately. The other follows in like manner. Still ill at ease, but it's a start. The pace quickens as her steps multiply, and she is on her way again.
Bloody long hallway. It seemed she had been walking rather blindly for an hour. The path seems to widen out so she moves the chirugai up a little to shine its light on the walls before her. Just when I thought it couldn't get any better. Sarcasm, due to the fact that, just to make things more complicated, the hall broke off into three separate directions. Tremulous fingers grip the chirugai searching for something she didn't know. It is lifted before the beginnings of each new hallway. The light catches nothing of particular interest in it's glow. More of the same. None of the proposed pathways looked more favorable than another so she could only stand before this conundrum absolutely confused and completely frustrated. Left! The command stirs her to action immediately. The sound changes to that of a hollow windiness. The sound of silence as it were. Everything is holding it's breath now. Lara pays fixed attention to all these nuances. Nothing is too small to take into consideration when in such straits.
A little ways ahead an inviting light floods into the hallway dissipating almost abruptly as it makes it way further down her chosen route. Don't hurry. The light beckons but don't hurry. Her feet would struggle against her to rush to this seeming invitation. Beautiful features bathed in false light. For this is not light which illuminates the surrounding area. This dungeon is not that which can send forth true light. Only an obviously disguised darkness. Darkness posing as light. That is the form it has taken now. The guiding light of the chirugai is no longer necessary now. Dilated pupils take in too much light and lids shut over them automatically to let them adjust without pain. The familiar smell of death pervades her nostrils, unwelcome. It is a nauseating stench. Metallic, brackish, fermented, and bitter all at once. It had been present before in the hallways but now, ever so much stronger. Ever so much more suffocating. This smell is a friend of darkness. They give you the same chill, the same misgivings, and the same apprehension. It's commonplace role in her life deadens her senses to it's atrocity. She too was a friend of darkness in a strange sort of way. Not in abiding by it's evil ways of course, but by many times taking shelter in it's covering. A shelter from eyes that would seek and destroy. Many times sneaking along and relying on it. Not so much a friend as an acquaintance. Something she used to accomplish her goals. Having reached the end of the hallway she stands to inspect this new area, not willing to enter the room without proper scruple of it's dimensions.
Brows raise curiously at the display just 50 feet before her. A dark form lies rigid on the sordid floor of the large chamber. Kurtis. The name sends forth many emotions. None of them valid here. Stupid weak feelings not suitable for a warrior. A trail of blood leads out to him in the center of the massive room. Little indiscriminately shaped puddles and smears of fresh blood. Their red vibrancy gives away their age or lack there of. He had not been waiting long. I'm Here. Now where's that greeting party?
This was too easy. Him lying there so serenely untouched. The little buggers might just as well of gift wrapped him and put a big sign up that said: Kurtis Here! A sarcastic laugh held back so as not to give her position away. Instead she curls the corners of her lips up in a mean little grin and looks the place over with a keen calculating eye. The light was coming from a jaggedly shaped shaft in the ceiling. A very high ceiling at that. At least 20 feet up. Unkempt bangs fall lazily down her cheeks like little bits of silk as she cocks up to get a better perspective. The room is round, the circumference of which could nearly house a football field. It had distinct cave-like qualities to it. The walls, untouched by hands left in their natural, uneven, rocky state. Shadows encircled the far side of the enclosure. A few basic looking columns nearly hugged the walls. Barely visible from this distance were a handful of exits/entrances. All draped in the usual darkness.
A perfect ambush location. Couldn't have planned it better myself. Damn those conniving little wretches! Was it wise to go to him? Was he already dead? Even if he was still barely hanging on to life she had no way of giving him the medical attention he undoubtedly needed. No way of getting him out of here. Then again she couldn't very well just turn around and walk home. Besides the moral implications of just leaving him there to die alone, she probably had already been spotted by the creatures. They would naturally attack her as she made her way down that horridly dark hallway and that would be that. no thank you!
If she met them in the large chamber at least she would have a playing field in which to give herself a fighting chance. Maybe, one of those doors would lead her out of this hell-hole. The thought of leaving him there to die, assuming he wasn't already dead, stabbed at her cruelly. A burning knot forms in her stomach. The sardonic smile falls from her lips as easily as it had dressed them only moments before. To hell with him.
She throws the feeling away but it does not die. Lingering in the back of her mind stubbornly. Forward. Again, she obeys without even the thought of resistance crossing her mind. Each careful footfall is felt all through out her body though its sound to anyone listening would be barely distinguishable, even if they listened intently. Heart pounding furiously in her chest. Adrenaline pumping a thrilling anxiety through her veins. Hands now slick with sweat beneath their leather sheaths. The right one clenching the handle of her pistol unyieldingly. It gives her an odd sort of comfort to cling to it's cold hardness. One slender finger toying with the trigger ready to squeeze it at any given moment.
He was lying on his stomach. Head turned to the side. Tousled bangs hiding his visage. Chirugai is set by her side as she kneels. Gloved hands glide over tattered cloth. The touch of him was without the warmth of life. She turns him over at once. Bloody. Flecks or crimson marred rugged features. Torso completely damp with his own fluids. Blood smattered all over his pants. The term 'mess' would be an understatement. Graceful fingers seek his neck and a pulse. Barely warm. Come on you son of a bitch… Not a sign of life…he was dead. Even after it was obvious she did not move. Frozen physically and mentally. Determined to have him alive. If anyone was going to kill him it was her. No over-sized Godzilla wannabe was going to take the satisfaction of blowing him away, away from her. This was the excuse. She wanted him alive so she could kill him herself. It was satisfactory for the time being because it was mostly true. Gaze did not waver from his corpse. Nothing conscious except her waiting fingertips. Waiting, watching, hoping, and then more waiting.
--Curse these bonds of mortal man,
that I mightn't reach beyond these hands.--
Weak pressure manifests itself against her vigilant touch. It was so small. It was so heartening. Nothing could have made her happier or sadder. He was hanging in there…wouldn't make it though. She couldn't do a damn thing to save him, but still a warmth filled her. Lashes flutter revealing a hint of blue. It is gone too soon. She would have loved to look into those beautiful penetrating eyes just once more before…What am I thinking?! Pansy bullshit. She is disgusted with herself and loses her temper. Great Kurtis! You fucking genius. What am is supposed to do now? Drag your sorry ass out of here in my backpack?! Completely frustrated, but determined. It had come to this. She would have to leave him. No. Not like this. Maybe there was something she could do? She ripped the shredded cloth away and revealed the wound entirely. It was examined closely. A gory mess of torn flesh. Punctured straight through his middle. Ghastly. Now, her own hands were covered in his blood. Vivid crimson catches her gaze, and she looks at them for a moment. So precious; so worthlessly spilled out. It feels different. The torn piece of his shirt was used to wrap around him. A makeshift bandage. Pitiful.
No one was going to accuse her of not trying. If Karel got a hold of him he'd use him for his evil purposes. Probably torture what little life was left out of him. Kurtis wasn't that much of a bastard to deserve such a fate. What am I doing?…I can't save him. I have to do it. I'd be doing him a favor…Fingers brush against her lips then glide across his own. It doesn't matter now.
"Farewell."
The cold steel of her pistol barrel graces his temple. It's coolness carries throughout her own self. His shut eyes hiding. What do they see? Wouldn't scream to break the tension. A scream would be sweet in comparison. Nothingness. What does he see? Even closed eyes see. Could he feel it coming. The kiss of death. Deadened and numb. So very alone. I always knew I'd shoot him, right? Lips pursed; brows furrowed. It would be easy, no? Pull that little trigger…tiny little trigger. To squeeze it would be so effortless. So simple. A test of mental strength rather than physical. She was stronger than this. It wasn't strength though. There was something telling her no. Couldn't listen. It was the kind thing to do. Whole body strained. Beads of sweat slide down her forehead. Breath ragged. Trembling like a novice. You have no choice. I can't…Yes you can! Just do it! He'd want you to, damn it! Squeeze!
"Errrgg…"
Throaty utterance rips through the strained silence. Ah, my little fiends. They sauntered out of the dark places. A few visible in front of her but she could hear twice as many scraping the ground behind her. About 10 of them. Proto-nephilim. The shadows clung to their bodies unwilling to let go of their own. Hunched over and groaning as they moved. Long appendages like tentacles for arms. You know what they look like don't you? Beady eyes, tortured expression, and the stench of death following them like a taunt. Oh, that death should be so sweet as to strike one down. The disinclined children of darkness. Cursed in all respects. Pity would find it favorable to end their suffering. She rises slowly forgetting all about what needed to be done. He waits patiently. Her pistol chooses a less friendly target and she fires a single shot at it's grotesque head, doing nothing to upset it's forward march. A shot that might have taken away something dear.
"Fucking impervious sons of bitches."
The curse muttered under her breath. Things had officially gotten much worse. It all seemed hopeless. She envisioned a tragic Romeo and Juliet scene of her lying dead beside Kurtis. A pair of star crossed lovers indeed. Over my dead body. Probably. Pistol holstered. It wouldn't do any good anyway. She would have to use her wits and agility to get out of this one.
"Okay, you want to go? Let's go…"
Hands held out before her in a martial arts style. Bent over slightly. Prepared. They formed a circle around her and inched closer and closer. Any gaps between them to escape were being closed slowly but surely. Now or Never it seemed .When the right moment arrives feet go into action and she leaps up and dives for one of them. Her hands push up from the top of it's head and she flips up and over the creature like it was a balance beam and sticks the landing. Her gym instructor of yester year would have been proud. Grin spreads full lips.
"Ha!"
The swift do not have the race. A doorway right in front of her. So close. Now was her chance! All thoughts aimed at escape. Forgetting something? Feet were willed to move but something was wrong. Tightening sensation about her ankle. It happens so fast it feels slow. She trips and falls hard, biting the dust. The taste of blood from a busted lip. A rough jolt backwards. Being drug back into the fray. Eyes blurry from airborne dust. Vulnerable and shadowed by evil monsters all around. Nothing visible. Darkness…cover me, hide me, protect me. Surrounded and down. They seek to destroy. She hears it laugh. The darkness laughs. Or is it they who crowd in greedily for the kill? Despicable vultures. The world closes in on her small body. All hope, abandoned. A scream to break the tension. It is bitter-sweet. Don't slip away so easy. Don't fall so gently.
--"Never was a story of more woe
Than this of Juliet and her Romeo." --