Chapter Two

Twenty Minutes Later

She struggled back to consciousness, only aware that she was laying in some kind of cold, viscous liquid. She sat up carefully, feeling around on the back of her head until she founds the bump there. When she brought her fingers back, she was horrified to find not red, but bright green blood on them. She found her guns and stood up, hating the feel of the slimy liquid against her bare flesh. An involuntary shudder ran through her body as she looked around the room. The walls were made of roughly hewn stone blocks in various sizes. The room stunk of decay and something she couldn't name.

The floor and walls were both covered in a layer of the same liquid she had landed in, although it was thickest under the hole she had fallen through. A staircase on the far wall provided her with a way out. She crossed the room to them. With each step she took, the slime got thicker and thicker. It was like walking through glue. By the time she mounted the bottom step, he legs were burning with effort. Sweat ran down her face and stung her eyes.

The world swayed alarmingly and she was forced to sit down on the steps before she fell. She put her head between her knees, hoping to dispel the sudden wave of dizziness. All she wanted was to give in and lay back down in the slime that she had found so repulsive just moments ago. As the thought crossed her mind, she realised that it was the slime that was making her feel that was. It had entered her body by the small wound on the back of her head.

She reached into her pack and pulled out the water bottle and medi-kit she always carried. She used the water to rinse off the worst of the slime before applying iodine to the wound on her scalp, hissing as it stung. Once most of the slime had been rinsed away, she began to feel much better.

One last look around the infested room showed a workbench running the length of one wall. In a corner, there was a furnace. The rest of the room was bare. She stood and re-shouldered her pack before continuing up the rickety wooden stairs, which turned back on themselves. The door at the top opened easily under her hand and she found herself back in the hallway.

The next room she entered turned out to be a bathroom. The sink and bath had been corroded, so that in some places there was holes right through them. The same slime that she had found in the cellar also covered everything in the bathroom. She quietly backed out of the room and shut the door behind her. A feeling of unease ran through her. She didn't want to admit it, but the house was creeping her out, more so than some of the tombs she'd visited during her travels.

She opened the next door, fully prepared to meet more slime. However, to her surprise the room was clean of the dreaded substance. The room looked to be a study. There was a large desk that dominated the room, commanding attention. Lara found herself drawn to it. She sat down in the red-leather chair that stood behind the fine oak desk. There were six draws in the desk, three at each side. One by one, she opened the draws. In the last one, she found a sealed letter.

It was addressed to a Ms. Petra Lowe and it was dated 16/06/1928. The house would have been eight years old at the time the letter was written. She wondered why it had never been sent. Shrugging the thought away, she reached into her boot and pulled out the tiny, perfectly sharp knife she kept there. After cutting open the envelope and discarding it onto the desk, Lara carefully unfolded the tissue thin paper the letter had been written on. She read it out loud, unaware she was doing so.

'My dearest Petra,' it began

' I fear that I have uncovered something both wonderful and deadly. Last night, while looking over the building of the last house, I found a short sword. A dagger, if you will. It is purest black and always as cold as the grave. No light reflects from it. In the hilt there are two black stones, most likely Jet. I have read of a sword like this, but I never dreamed in my wildest dreams I'd ever own it. It lays in front of me on the desk as a write this letter to you , my dear.

What I both hope and fear is that this is the Dagger of Entropy. One cut is said to turn the suffer quite mad. Soon after, they die and nothing can be done to save them.

During my time in England, I was fortunate enough to stay at the Manor of Lord Croft. As you know, he has the most fascinating collection of items I have ever seen anywhere in the world. If this truly is the Dagger of Entropy, it was stolen from him some time ago.

I shall write to him at once to try and confirm my suspicions.

Yours,

Justin.'

Lara held the letter in a shaking hand. Her mind was in turmoil. The man who had built the very house she was sitting in had stayed with her family? The thought was enough to make her feel strange. She folded the letter and returned it to the envelope before slipping it into her pack. She left the room after looking around quickly. The last room along the hallway turned out to be an empty storeroom.

She stepped through the doorway carefully, wary of the house's tricks. She made it to the middle of the room without incident, then without warning, a rat launched itself at her face. It's mouth was open and in place of it's normal teeth, it had thin, needle sharp fangs. She batted it away with her arm, feeling the teeth puncture the flesh there. The bite hurt more than it should have done, and with a cry of rage, she ripped the rat off her arm. The rat's teeth raked twin bloody furrows into her arm. They stung, but she didn't care.

The rat was gathering itself for another attack. As it pounced, Lara grabbed one of her guns and shot it cleanly in the head. It fell to the floor bonelessly. Unlike some of the other creatures she had fought, this rat stayed dead. She carefully crossed the small distance between them and poked the lifeless body with the toe of her boot. With a wet pop, it exploded into nothing.

She pulled a face at the mark on the floor where the body had been, then started examining the dilapidated room for any clues. On one long wall, there was a large, dusty painting hanging. It depicted a grey looking city in the middle of a bleak winter. It seemed out of place somehow. She pulled it off the wall, quite roughly and dropped it to the floor. In the clean rectangle where it had been hanging, there was a map.

It was not a normal map, for it showed the nine Norse worlds, each with a tiny symbol engraved at their center. She traced her forefinger over it. She had just discovered how to stop the dagger bringing Hell to Earth.