Slouching Toward Bethlehem
A continuation of Lara Croft Tomb Raider: The Angel of Darkness.
Disclaimer:
I do not own any recognisable characters that appear in this piece of fiction. Lara Croft, Kurtis Trent and others are property of Eidos and Crystal Dynamics. The only thing I own is some OCs and the plot. This story was written for pleasure only. I am making no profit from this story.
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»Chapter Seventeen: Ancient History »
The vehicles had stopped.
Kurtis lifted his head in surprise. They had been travelling non-stop for a number of hours now, and yet he knew they could not have reached Cappadocia yet. The journey there would take at least two days.
Karel and the driver had got out of the front of the car, but to Kurtis' annoyance his guards had made no such move.
There was some kind of commotion up ahead. They were directly in the middle of the row of vehicles, and as such were too far away to see what was going on, but still near enough to hear it.
Sat as he was, between two soldiers and away from the window, Kurtis could not see what was happening outside. He needed his hands free in order to use his farsee ability, and so he leaned forwards and strained his hearing, trying to catch some sense in the cacophony of voices outside.
One shout rang out above the noise, followed by the sound of machine gun fire. A few strangled screams were audible, but these were abruptly cut off. The shooting ended.
Silence reigned inside the car. Soon, the sounds of the returning soldiers reached his ears. Both the driver and Karel got back into the vehicle, slamming the doors shut behind them. As the engine started up, the black soldier on Kurtis' left spoke up.
"Why did we stop Master Karel?"
Karel answered without even turning his head.
"Toll booth," he said.
The soldier simply nodded and settled back into his seat. The vehicle trundled on, and Kurtis managed to snatch a glance out of the back window of the vehicle as they passed the toll booth.
Two police vehicles stood on either side of the now useless barrier, and Kurtis noticed with shock and nausea the dead men now staining the dusty road with their lifeblood. One such man was slumped over the hood of the police car where he had been shot. Kurtis was glad he could not see his face.
He turned away from the window, leaning back in his seat heavily. Spurred on by the sight he had just seen, his hands worked furiously behind his back, attempting to loosen the ropes which bound his wrists.
It was a difficult task to begin with, and the fact that Kurtis could hardly feel his hands tipped the scale into impossibility. After a few more minutes he stopped trying altogether, and figured he should probably try and save his energy.
From the looks of it it was going to be a very long night.
It was late in the afternoon the next day when the convoy of vehicles stopped again. The purpose was not to clear another roadblock however.
Confused, Kurtis turned and peered once again out of the back window. In the growing dark he could still make out his surroundings. They were now outside a long, low building which resembled a warehouse. It appeared deserted.
He had seen Karel tap the driver on the shoulder and whisper something in his ear before they had stopped. He did not understand why they had stopped though. They were barely two days from Cappadocia, and his experience of ancient rituals and sacrifices told him they usually had to be performed at a certain time. He was sure his multiple escapes from these men had meant they were cutting the time very close. So why were they stopping now?
His questions were soon answered however, once he was out of the car, being taken inside the warehouse. Karel was leaning against the wall of the building, his eyes squeezed shut and his breathing ragged. He looked even paler than usual.
"Master Karel?" Gunderson asked, walking over and putting a hand on the Nephilim's shoulder, "Are you OK?"
Karel shook his head distractedly, batting away Gunderson's hand.
"I'm fine," he said shortly, "Get the men inside."
Gunderson still looked concerned, yet he quickly obeyed his orders.
"Yes, sir," he told him, before quickly moving off to perform his duties.
As Kurtis was taken past Karel, inside the building, he continued to stare back at the Nephilim. Karel met his eyes for a moment before shouting further orders, in an aggravated and slightly tired voice:
"Lock him up somewhere and guard him. If he gets away again then neither of you will live to see tomorrow. Clear?"
The two soldiers holding Kurtis quickly agreed, dragging the Lux Veritatis further inside the dimly lit warehouse. The ceiling was low and damp, with water dripping from the roof and the stone walls covered in grime. Long disused machinery stood in rows along the walls and across the floor.
Soon enough they came across an abandoned furnace, with metal grilling surrounding its front in the form of a cage. Into this they threw Kurtis – none too gently – who landed hard on his already injured side and front.
He rolled slowly onto his back, groaning in pain, as the men shut and locked the door of the makeshift cage. The stone floor was cold and unforgivingly solid. He would have welcomed some warmth from the coal fire, but the furnace had long ago been extinguished.
His two guards were now stood outside the metal cage, guarding him with their backs turned. He got his hands underneath himself and slowly pushed off the floor, managing to pull himself up into a sitting position against the wall.
"You have great people skills you know," he said sarcastically. Neither of the guards answered.
Kurtis rolled his eyes. Mercenaries. They were all the same breed: precocious, cocky and above all else stubborn bastards.
No wonder I made such a good one, Kurtis mused, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall.
God, what he wouldn't have given for a cigarette right now.
About twenty minutes had passed, in which Kurtis' guards had remained silent and ignored his requests for a cigarette. He was just contemplating going to sleep when the sound of footsteps alerted him to someone's presence.
"Trent," a familiar voice said. Kurtis looked up to find Marten Gunderson standing before him, already fiddling with the lock on the grilling door. "Master Karel requires your presence."
Kurtis raised an eyebrow.
"Master Karel requires my presence? Rather, I require a cigarette, and you require to have your head removed from up Karel's ass."
His last remark earned a punch in the jaw, and yet he was smirking as his guards once again grabbed his arms and hauled him to his feet. The look on his old employer's face had been worth the pain.
Gunderson walked ahead as the soldiers brought Kurtis to another part of the factory, devoid of machinery. A metal beam ran across the ceiling, which had once been part of a long-broken lighting rig.
They pulled Kurtis' arms above his head, taking another length of rope and attaching his already bound hands to the metal beam. His feet still touched the floor -although barely -and the strain of his body weight was causing his arms and shoulders to ache. Still he did not show any outward signs of discomfort. He wanted to rob his captors of that satisfaction.
His two guards exited quickly when Karel appeared, yet Gunderson strayed for a moment, leaning closer to Kurtis and whispering threateningly:
"Karel may get his way with you now, but me and men are to be given free reign after this little "conversation," He paused, letting Kurtis take this in. "All of my men - especially Jonath -are so very eager to speak with you."
He gave Kurtis a lingering stare full of promise before he turned away, taking long purposeful strides until he was lost from view in the dim lighting of the building's interior.
Kurtis was now left alone with Karel. The Nephilim was simply standing there, not saying or doing anything. Kurtis truly did wish he had a cigarette.
"You know," Karel began, slowly walking around the hanging Lux Veritatis, "You and I are not all that different. We are both fighting for the same thing..." He finished pacing and ended up back in front of Kurtis. "We both seek control over the hybrids, the fallen, those who were so long ago-"
"You mean the Nephilim?" Kurtis cut in, really not wanting to hear Karel go on and on, "Look, if you're gonna kill me, I'd rather you do it right away. Kill me in a humane way, instead of boring me to death."
To Kurtis' surprise Karel did not hit him. Instead he smiled.
"You see Trent," he continued, "We are both impatient. We seek something beyond the confines of this world. Me - I seek the rebirth of my race and dominion over the earth. And you - well, you seek that which has already passed over."
Kurtis was just about ready to rip Karel's head off in anger.
"She is dead," Karel told him, echoing his words of the previous evening, "Lara Croft is dead and there is nothing in this world which will bring her back. You can see her again though. It is quite simple really. This ritual will give to us both what we most desire."
Kurtis did not reply. He could not. The moment he opened his mouth he would have said something which would have resulted in further pain, and his strained back and shoulders were on fire as it was.
"All those years ago," Karel went on, "At the time of the Trials, your ancestors - the Knights Templar -were paying for their heritage with their own blood. Now, you get to do the same… Quite fitting is it not? The very last of your Order should die, only to give life to the very race you have so long striven to keep extinct?"Karel paused at the end of this statement, as though he were waiting for a response. Kurtis gave no such thing. His head was bowed and his eyes were closed as he attempted to block out the Nephilim's voice.
A fist flew into his ribs, causing him to splutter and cough in pain as he sought to regain his breath. He fixed his eyes upon Karel, giving him a scathing look. The pain had been doubled because of his already injured torso.
"As I said before Trent," Karel told him, leaning in a little closer, "The only thing keeping you alive at the moment is my will. Do not convince me otherwise."
Kurtis simply met his eyes, attempting to ignore the throbbing pain that had reawakened in his side. If his stitches bust then he would bleed to death anyways, before they had even reached Cappadocia.
In retrospect, he thought, I would prefer that scenario any day.
Karel smiled knowingly, his eyes glinting.
"Do you know what they used to do to Knights who resisted torture?"
He reached into the dark folds of his jacket and drew out a small metal object. At first Kurtis could not place it through hazy and bloodshot eyes. Then Karel brought it to life with one skilful flick of his thumb.
As Kurtis' eyes focused on the flaming lighter held before him by Joachim Karel, he knew the answer to his question before it was even spoken.
"They were burned alive."
TBC…
Well, this chapter definitely ended up being longer than when I first started writing it. :) The last few lines of this I actually wrote almost a year ago, in a moment of inspiration whilst on holiday in Cyprus. I was reading Angels and Demons at the time and all these references to the Knights Templar kept coming up in it... I definitely came up with a lot of story ideas whilst there!
godavari - Hey, sorry for not mentioning you in the last update: didn't catch your review in time. Thank you! You're just one of the many people wondering as to Lara's fate :D
nickless - I am actually planning a sequel to this story. I have a beginning and a sketchy plot and ending, but no idea as to a title yet... hehe Sorry for the cliffhanger this chapter, I did not put it there just to annoy you! :)
dtaylor - lol Yes, I'm very happy now :D
AngelTrent2 - Doesn't everyone hate cliffhangers? lol (expect me, of course :D)
Lady Lara Croft - Yep, gotta hate that evil Nephilim. I bet you'll be hating him even more after this last chapter... Thanks for reading!
SilverDragon67 - Argh! lol Here is the chapter for you, updated as quickly as possible!
The Odd Little Turtle - :) Hope I updated quickly enough!
Acid-Rush - lol Well, here is evil Karel but no Lara I'm afraid :s
Arakanga - Thank you :D Here is another chapter, churned out far too quickly than is good for my social life! (like I have one anyways lol)
PunkStatik - Yey! Someone else likes cliffhangers too! (hugs) I am not too sure how many chapters this will end up having. I'm sure it won't be over 30 though :D
Jordana Trent - hehe Well, I didn't want to get poked so I updated right away! You like the Nephilim, do ya? Whatever ails ya... ;)