Chapter 5: Blood Ties part 1

I don't own anything. Resident Evil belongs to Capcom and Tomb Raider belongs to Core Design, Crystal Dynamics, and I think Square Enix. The only thing I own is the changes made to the stories of the Tomb Raider games/comics and Resident Evil games/comics/CG movies, the Government branch S.P.E.L.L., the person that has taken over Kathrine Warren's life, and Rose Warren. This story also will be bloody, violent, and have cursing. It's rated T for Teen.

Country: United Kingdom, State: England, City: Surrey, Place: Croft Manor, Area: Study, Month: November, Day: Thursday 16th, Year: 2000, Time: 21:31 BST…

Lara frowned at the paper she held. Her grip tightening as she read through it by the study's dirty window.

Final Notice – Lady Lara Amelia Croft, current Tenant of Premises:

This is to serve as your final notice for the purposes of terminating your ownership of Croft Manor. You're required to immediately vacate and surrender possession of said Manor to Atlas de Mornay, executor of estates.

Lara, it is unfortunate that you have forced my hand in this matter, but so be it. As you know, your parents appointed me executor of the estate in the event of their absence. Since your mother disappeared, her death was never technically declared. And given the circumstances surrounding your father's death, it's no surprise that he never drafted a formal last will and testament to account for this circumstance. Unfortunately, you have no legal claims to the estate. I'm willing to negotiate a modest monthly stipend from your trust, only if you leave the Manor by week's end. Don't fight me on this, Lara. Your mother wouldn't want that.

Sincerely,

Atlas

Lara lowered the notice and looked to the locked up safe on the wall. Her father's safe. A safe never been opened because the code was unknown. She sighed. This was her home. Where she grew up. Where her mother and father lived. Where she felt ready to move back into. Where all her mother's and father's things were. Where good fond memories dwelled.

"There has to be a will…" She breathed, not caring about the money. "Or some kind of evidence of what happened to mum in the Manor…" She walked to the safe and tried the handle, some part of her hoping it would just open for her. "Somewhere." She groaned sadly as she lowered her head. "It needs a combination. It's got to be in dad's papers somewhere…Dad's safe."

She walked back to her father's desk. So many good memories were here. Only two bad ones came to mind in this room. She shook her head. She didn't want to think about them. Not now. She looked at one of the photos on the desk. It was in a silver fancy frame. The image was her as a child, younger than her blue dress picture back in her flat. In this one she was smiling brightly at the camera with pride. On her head was an Egyptian style paper crown.

She smiled at seeing it. This was on her birthday. She picked it up with a smile chuckle. "My birthday crown I was so proud of that thing." She sighed and flipped the frame around. She gasped at the white ink in the back. "That's my handwriting…my penmanship was pretty good!" She laughed.

The words her child-self had written 'The treasure of ancients'. She put the photo back down on the desk and walked to the other side of the desk. She picked up her dad's small tape player and pushed it's play button.

"Well, this is a hell of a thing. I met someone tonight, quite unexpectedly! But it shouldn't have been, it seems. I've been so buried in my work, so distracted by my latest revelations...I never bothered to notice my surroundings.

But there she was, sitting at my table in the library. Her name is Amelia, and apparently, she's been studying right next to me. Art History, of all things.

I shared some of my research, against my better judgement. But I wanted to see how she would respond. And she did not disappoint. I felt as if I was suddenly engaged in a mental game of chess - moving and counter moving in argument. At one point that poor old librarian had to shush us as if we were children.

I feel so foolish for not having noticed her earlier. She's a brilliant woman who's challenged my ideas for the first time in memory. In truth, I don't know if she's feeling as exhilarated as I am right now. But I dare say our conversation was mutually stimulating.

For the first time in a long time, I find myself thinking about something else besides my research. I hope she returns for another round tomorrow."

"I always knew that my parents met at Oxford...but never the circumstances. Just like Dad to argue mythology as a way to flirt." Lara snorted. "My parents made a good team…challenging each other from the start." She smiled.

Lara turned put the tape player away in her back pocket and walked to a small table by the window. On it was another frame, but it wasn't for a picture. It was for a diploma. Not hers, it was her fathers from Oxford.

"Dad would've liked me to go to Oxford, but I insisted on UCL. Glad I did, met Sam and Kat." She smiled picked up the frame looking at the signatures and the wax seal. "Yep, looks real. Roth once offered to forge me a fake diploma to show dad." She laughed and put it back down.

She walked to the bookshelf next to it, opening the cupboards. She found nothing but a box of film reels. She turned away from this bookshelf and walked. Finding the picture, she'd brought with her from her flat. The one of her, her dad, and Ana.

"Never liked wearing dresses…" She hummed frowning then shrugged. "But the color was nice." She put it back down on the table.

She looked to a small stand between two bookshelves and in front of one of the thin windows. On top was a bust of a man in 18th century garb.

"This is probably my grandfather Benjamin." Lara muttered tipping her head unsure.

She checked another cupboard, one of the bookshelves had a mask in it. She smiled at it. Her dad had a few of these. This one was a Yoruba mask and was from a friend of his. She put it back and turned away from the cupboard. On a table with a lamp shining on it was the Map she had from her flat. The one of northern Syria. She opened a bottom cupboard and found an old book of her dads. It was 'The Truth Behind Myths, by Lord Richard Croft'.

She put it back and stood. She'd have to use it for her research, but she didn't think it held the number code. She walked to the small coffee table by the sofa and picked up the journal that rested on it. The page it was on was from her mother, the time after her dad met her maternal uncle and grandparents.

I finally introduced Richard to the family. It went precisely how I imagined. Icy, but polite grace from mother. Indifference and disinterest from father. And thinly veiled contempt from Atlas. Of course, they don't approve. To them, Lord Croft is the man who took away their beloved daughter and ruined her long-standing engagement (I was never going to marry that repugnant Earl of Farringdon anyway).

One might think they would be happy that I was being courted by a genuine Lord of the Realm. It just happens to be Richard Croft - in their eyes, the man who single handedly ruined a once great family.

But there's nothing to be done now. Watching how Richard dealt with their subtle insults and disrespect...such grace and calm. I know he did it for me. I think I'm falling in love with this man.

It will break my mother's heart, but I cannot live the life she imagined for me. My time with Richard has only made this clearer.

'Mum's own words...I can almost imagine her speaking. I wish I could remember her voice.' Lara sighed as she put the journal down. "It must have been hard for mum to go against her family's wishes. I'm glad she did." She smiled.

She turned to the door and walked out of the study coming to a hallway. To her left was the door to the library, she knew that from her time here, and the bronze plaque on it that read 'LIBRARY'.

'There has to be something in there…' She grabbed the door handle and tried turning it. "Locked." She hissed shaking her head. "Hmmm…there's got to be another way through."

She turned away from it thinking and letting her mind wonder. She walked the hallway, which had the boxes from her flat as she was in the proses of moving back in. Hence why her uncle had sent the notice. On one of the box stacks was an old piece of paper. She lifted it and laughed at what it was.

"This is the map I made for my first "Expedition" with dad…it shows a path to the library through the servant's passages." She said then slowed down as she remembered. She lowered it and looked around. "Wait…I can get into the library through the old servant's corridor…"

She walked to the wall on the right-hand side. She looked at the floor. The repeated scraps that were there from the secret door opening and closing. She looked to the wall and pressed her hand to it, pushing the secret door open. She leaned her head in and frowned. It was pitch black in there and she didn't have a glow stick or torch on her.

"Too dark." Lara sighed leaning back and shaking her head. "I'm going to need a torch."

She walked out of this hallway to a small siting room with one of the many fireplaces in this Manor. She looked at a love seat and saw some old papers on it. She walked over and saw it was one of her old letters to her father. She picked it up and read through it.

Hi Dad,

I've been thinking about Mum lately. I wish I knew more about her. How did you meet? What was she like? Winston told me that she was a brilliant artist. Are some of her paintings locked up in the West Wing?

And...I guess I just want to know...did she love me, Dad? Did she ever say that she did? Maybe I'm just being silly, but will you tell me more about her the next time I'm home from school?

Lara sighed. She remembered writing this now. She had been 10 when her memories of her mother started to get fuzzy. "It was so hard for Dad to talk about Mum." She breathed, put it down, and looking to the small coffee table with her laptop.

Next to it was another paper she'd found. Her blanket and pillow were on the old leather couch too. She walked to the papers and read them too. She glared at it. it was one of the first few letters from her uncle, sticking his nose in things he doesn't understand or belong.

Lara,

I've reviewed the report from your therapist. I have to say I was surprised to see a clean bill of health. I somehow doubt you've so easily abandoned your irrational claims.

Indeed, where have you been the past few weeks? My secretary discovered that you booked a flight to Turkey on the 20th. You can't have been simply sightseeing, as your customs claims suggest. I know you're up to something, and I'll be damned if I let you use the Croft assets to indulge the same obsession that led to my sister's death.

It's not too late to relinquish your claims on the Manor voluntarily. If you refuse, I will find a way to cut you off.

Sincerely,

Atlas

She shook her head. 'I don't know how I feel about keeping this old manor, but one thing is clear to me: I need Uncle Atlas out of my life for good.' She thought to herself.

Yes, she didn't want to give the place up, yet she didn't fully want it either. But she knew she didn't want her greedy ass of an uncle to have it.

She walked out of this small room and into the Grand Hall of the house. The tall stone arches, the staircases, beautiful carvings that gave an Edwardian feel. The long painting of a beautiful landscape above the center of the meeting of stairs. Lara smiled at the memories this room. She was on the upper floor, but even here she could see the repairs her home needed. She sighed smiling.

"The Grand Hall…" She nodded looking at the leaking ceiling and the hanging drapes of separation. "Always loved playing in here as a kid…" She sighed looking at the spotty carpet that needed fixing or replacing. "This'll be one of the first things I'll fix."

She ran around the upper floor, finding a cigarette case. She picked it up with a frown. It wasn't her dad's, her mom's, or even Winston's. She knew this because the butler of this Manor and her mom never smoked, and her dad smoked for a short time but stopped.

"Hmm, this belongs to Ana." She muttered, thinking about the woman's long-term unhealthy habit. "Most of her belongings are in the guest house. What is it doing here?" She muttered as she opened it and turned it in her fingers.

She put it back on the sill and turned to a trunk. She tried it and found it locked. She shook her head; she'd need the master key to open it. She continued exploring and looking for a torch. She stopped by the double doors to the west wing and froze as her father's voice yelled in her mind from her childhood.

"Lara!" He had yelled sternly to get her attention. "You know the West Wing is off limits!" He had reminded her as it was common for her to try and get in there.

"I'm sorry!" Her younger voice yelped. "I…I just wanted to see."

"We've been through this." His voice stated sounding exasperated.

"Was mum's room in there?" She had asked nervously.

"Just…stay out of there, darling." He'd said sounding as if he were begging.

Lara shook her head at his voice. "Dad was always so protective of the west wing." She tried the door handles and sighed finding them locked. "Locked. Need a key to open this." She turned away from the doors.

She jogged down the stairs and into the foyer. The floor needed fixing up but was a lovely marble with a compass rose designed in the center. There was also a nice fireplace with another picture above it. There were a few tables, love seats, and sofa. She could hear another memory in her head.

"What are you doing sitting on the floor, Mistress Lara?" Winston had asked curiously.

"Looking at the compass…thinking…" Lara's child voice informed with a board sigh.

"What about, if I may inquire?" Winston had asked, his voice not yet old sounding, but was on the cusp.

"Just…thinking about discovering faraway places…about finding adventure." Young Lara voiced sounding full of naive wonder.

She closed her eyes, hearing the loyal butler's amused chuckle. "I'm sure you will, my Lady. You've the soul of an explorer." He had voiced. "But don't grow up too fast." He'd warned.

Lara sighed and opened her eyes. She looked to the side table, tucking this lovely memory away. On the table was another of her mother's journals. She looked the page it was on, an entry about an art tour.

The offer came in the post last week, and I still haven't told Richard. He flew ahead to Tibet, where I will meet him shortly. I never told him I was submitting my work, never thought there was chance of being accepted. But a gallery tour is not something I can pass up. The show will take me away from England for over a year. I'll begin in New York and travel across the United States, and God, I'm giddy even writing those words.

When Richard and I were married, I was prepared to relegate my paintings to a hobby, but it was Richard who objected, who gave me my atelier and studio. Without that support, I might still be painting boring landscapes, Now I can't shake the foolish sensation that leaving would be a betrayal.

He will laugh at that and insist that I accept, even though I know it will break his heart to be apart. He never once asked me to sacrifice any part of my life for his. I have, of course, in a thousand small ways over the years, but he would never ask.

The discussion can wait, and I will join him in Tibet. I won't cast a shadow over his find. I will be by his side in his triumph, as I know he will stand by my side, in time.

She sighed closing the book. "This is incredible. Mom was on the verge of fulfilling one of her dreams. Fate can be so cruel." She muttered knowing that this was the entry before the fateful day.

She stood and spotted another of her uncle's letters on a windowsill. She walked over and lifted it, frowning at when she had gotten this one.

Lara,

Since your return from your expedition to Yamatai, I've grown increasingly alarmed at your erratic behavior. I can only assume you suffered psychological trauma and are only acting out as a call for help. I want you to know that I hear you loud and clear. Ana and I agree that it's time for you to be evaluated by a professional. I took the liberty of arranging an introduction to a highly qualified colleague of mine. You should be receiving the details in the post soon.

I want to impress upon you the importance of this, Lara. As executor of the estates, it is my duty to see that it is left in capable hands. And if I may be blunt, you're acting like your father when he was at his worst. He nearly lost the Manor himself in those days. I'd hate for you to repeat his mistakes. I encourage you to embrace the help I'm offering.

Sincerely,

Your Uncle

Lara glared at it, remembering it. "My Uncle's first attempt at trying to cut me off from the Manor. It backfired, though. I wasn't as crazy as he believed." She smirked as she tossed the letter back onto the sill.

She walked away from it and to a box by the front door. She sighed. There it was. A torch she could clip to a pack strap or coat pocket. She clipped it to her leather jacket's pocket and clicked it on and off. She nodded.

"Should be able to explore the dark now." She sighed. "I'll have to remember to pack this next trip."

She turned around and there she found her phone. She picked it up looking at the two messages she sent out. One was from her to Jonah. It was sent while she was on the flight to Syria.

"Hey Jonah,

Sorry for not getting back to you sooner. I've decided to do some research at the Manor. A lot has happened, and I need some time to think about what I want to do next.

This old place is filled with memories and secrets. Uncle Atlas has tried to keep me out of here for so long, I don't even know if I want to keep it. But...after everything that's happened, maybe I can find out what it still means to me. If it's worth fighting him for.

I'll let you know how things worked out when I'm back in London."

Lara swiped to the other message she sent. This one to Kat. It was on the flight back from Syria as well.

"Hey, Kat

Sorry I haven't called in a while. How's work? And the girls?

I'm sure you might already know, but I'm back at the Manor after…well a lot has happened. Trinity, the Prophet, my dad…

It doesn't help that my uncle seems to want the Manor even more. He's sent me a notice…I'm not sure if I want this place. But I also can't make myself to part with it. The memories that are here, the bad ones make me never want to come back here. But the good ones, the ones that make me smile…I just don't know.

I'll…I'll call you again when this done."

Lara closed out of her messages. Neither had responded yet. They must be busy. She put her phone into her back pocket and looked around again. She sucked on her teeth at the different doorways or walls that were bordered up due to the damage on the other side of them or underneath. She sighed and headed back upstairs. She needed to get into the library first.

She got to the secret door and clicked her torch on then stepped into the darkness. She looked around at this upper landing. She found an old dusty letter. She picked it up with a frown and her eyes widened at the letter from her uncle to her mother.

Amelia,

The news has reached Mother. She knows that you broke off your engagement with the Earl of Farringdon. She is beside herself with worry...but for the moment she's controlling the narrative. As far as anyone knows, you're just having innocent second thoughts. But the moment your affair with Lord Croft goes public, it will be too late. Our name will be as ruined because of this man you've chosen to bed!

Don't you see that you're being selfish, Amelia? Please consider your family. You're a De Mornay... everything you do has a greater effect on us all.

I'm coming down to London soon. Don't do anything rash until we have a chance to talk.

"Mum was engaged to someone else! There's so much I never knew about her." She gasped shaking her head.

She put the letter down and looked down the stairs. She slowly and carefully walked down them cringing at the loud creaks and groans. She guessed it had been a long time since someone had used them. She was almost at the bottom when she heard the step she had just put her weight on snap. She jumped to the floor quickly and looked back. Two of the steps had broken and only reminded Lara how much this whole house needed fixing desperately.

"Falling apart…" She sighed. "Maybe I should just let my uncle have this place…" She muttered as she looked to the small desk that had a cassette tape on it.

She pulled out her dad's tape player and swapped the two tapes. She then hit play.

"They say a good test of a relationship is how well you travel together. Well, I'd say Amelia and I have passed that test with flying colors. Indeed, these last few months in Egypt have been nothing short of extraordinary. She and Roth get on like old uni chums...in fact, the two have spent more than a few nights drinking and playing cards into the wee hours.

Despite her decidedly proper upbringing, Amelia's taken to roughing it more than I ever have. She fits in and connects with the local populace with such amazing empathy. Because of her, I've had a bit of an unexpected breakthrough in my research. She managed to convince an artifact dealer in old town to sell me a magnificent and quite unusual Tibetan scroll. From what I can tell, it seems to contain details surrounding an immortality ritual of some sort.

I think its time for me to take the next step with Amelia. In fact, I don't think I can wait any longer. I will ask for her hand tomorrow...in the bright Egyptian sun, amidst the dust and ruins."

Lara smiled. "I heard so many stories about that expedition...to see it from Dad's perspective makes me realize that it was Mum who made it all so memorable." She sighed. "I'm not surprised he asked her to marry him as soon as he got the idea." She chuckled as she tucked the player away.

She tried the door and groaned. It was locked. She didn't have her lock picks unpacked. She needed to find that master key. She didn't want to damage the doors with her axe, as tempted as she was.

She turned to the left and walked down some brick stairs. Finding herself in the basement of the Manor. She ignored the rats and mice that scurried away from her torch's beam. After all she had been through, rats and mice didn't scare her at all. She paused at another desk that was pushed up against the wall along with a few crates that once held a shipment of wine. Another letter from her uncle to her mother. Though the last one was angry and arrogant, this one felt like he was begging her mother.

Amelia,

I know we have had our differences in recent years. I've tried my best to keep an open mind about your relationship with Richard, but I just can't let you go to on this ill-conceived expedition without saying my piece.

You say Richard's theories have merit. You say that he may have actually stumbled upon some mythic, unknown truth. But I have seen nothing to support such claims. And while your word may have been enough in times past, I cannot let you squander away what remains of your name and reputation... and that of our family, truth be told...on some damned foolish crusade.

I intend to go to Richard's investors and let them know exactly how he's spending their money, but I wanted to give you a chance to put a stop to this yourself.

Please. Don't go to Tibet. If not for me, at least for Lara.

"Uncle Atlas has been causing problems for my family for too long, now. I'm glad Mum ignored his warnings." She muttered, even as she had a touch of sympathy for her uncle, but he was more worried about reputation then family.

She turned away from it and walked slowly into the wine cellar. The wine shelves had old wine bottles that she wasn't sure were any good or if they had turned to vinegar. They were dusty and covered in cobwebs. Some of the webs might have really been the home of creepy crawlies.

She swallowed as she walked. Her only light being the one on her pocket. She could only think about the threats she'd faced and the ones her friends had across the pond. It was adding fuel to her imagination. She hated coming down here as a kid. The stale air and dank look of the room had freaked her out.

Lightning flashed making her jolt for a moment. "Still just as creepy as I remember…" She breathed as she kept walking.

At the end of the row she found another letter sitting on top of a cask that was used as a table. It was from Winston to her father. She opened it and read, cringing at its contents.

My Lord,

I hope this missive finds you on a successful expedition and in good health. Before I bore you with estate affairs, I wanted to let you know that our Little Angel has been into some mischief. As always, I indulged her in our usual game of chess. Over the course of the game, she broached the subject of her mother. She's having trouble remembering her now and wanted to enter her Ladyships' Atelier which you sealed off, to play on her mother's piano. It enraged her when she wasn't allowed to go in, of course. For someone so young, she has such strong emotions.

Later in the day, she set a trap for me...in the walk-in freezer, of all places. Before I knew what was happening, I found myself locked inside. Mrs. Sheffield discovered me an hour later, shivering and somewhat peeved. It took us an additional hour to find Lara on the grounds. I know all her hiding places, of course, but this time she really did not want to be found. Call it years of observation, but I can tell when she's out of sorts. My lord, if I may be so bold...she misses you fiercely. She is lonely for her father.

Please consider a call as soon as you are able.

"Poor Winston…" She said as she put the letter back down. "I remember being so angry. He was always so patient with me."

She turned and saw that if she moved a rolling stack, she could get to the other side of the shelves. She walked over and pulled the cart. It was quite heavy. Resting on top was a wooden rack made to hold bottles of wine at the precise angle needed to store them. Many of the racking held bottles of wine, weighing down the cart. It was like trying to move a wall. Once it was moved, she slipped into this side room and paused.

She remembered being in here as a child. With the lights on it was not so creepy. Planning many games and mini expeditions. But she also played chess down here with Winston.

"King to Queen One. I'm going to win this time, Winston." Her child voice had said smugly.

"Clever girl." Winston had grinned. "…but you should know by now, winning isn't everything." He had said sagely. "Queen to Bishop Six. Check."

Young Lara had scoffed at him. "Easy for you to say. You always win." She had reminded grumpily. "Knight takes Queen!" She had beamed.

"What I mean to say is…try to enjoy the journey, Lara." He had told her with a smile. "Don't rush victory. Bishop to King Seven."

"I know, Winston. I just want…oh no, I didn't even see that!" Young Lara had gasped at the move.

"You should also know by now, I'm not to be trifled with on this board, young Lady." He had teased. "Mate."

Young Lara had groaned. "I'm going to win…someday."

Lara smiled as she walked to the table. It had four chairs around it. Old cups and candles sitting forgotten. But she was surprised to see the old chess set and board were right there. She smiled softly as she lifted the white knight. She fondly remembered those many games.

"I would play with Winston so many times. Never could beat him. That man was a master." She chuckled. "I always choose white…maybe if I had let him go first once in a while, I might've won?" She wondered as white always moves first.

She put the knight down and sighed as she looked around and tried the various lockers along the wall, shaking her head when she found some of them were stuck shut. She had to use her axe or a proper crowbar on them to get them open. She turned away and walked for the small hallway. The master key had to be here somewhere and so was the door to the library.