"We need to get rid of these staircases," said Lara, gesturing towards the stairs that spliced into the main hall.

"Have you lost your mind?" William yelled, thrusting his arms up in the air as if spiking an over-blown volleyball.

Winston emerged from his butler's quarters. "What's going on?'

Lara ignored his question, figuring that he would realize the situation if she and William continued arguing.

"I know what I saw," said Lara, staring down the left staircase.

"What you saw, Lara, was a figment of your imagination, brought on by bad dreams or drugs," William eyed her; "you do look rather baked."

Winston scoffed, "William, how can you accuse Lara of taking drugs?"

William folded his arms, "she claims she saw a zombie."

"I didn't just see it. I destroyed it," Lara growled, her face tingling with indignation.

"Lara!" Winston gasped, "have you been taking advantage of your father's medicine?"

"Wins-"

"You know that plant is grown special for your father's arthritis. How dare you abuse it?"

Lara sighed. It was going to be hard getting out of this one. She would have to show them the corpse in the library.

"There's a mutilated corpse lying in the library as we speak. I'll show it to you." Lara turned towards the library, but Winston grabbed hold of her shoulders.

"No, Lara," he whispered over her shoulder to William: "That's where the rest of the weed is!"

Oh!" William marched forward and grabbed Lara's shoulders from behind.

"Damn it!" Lara screamed, "You're not listening to me!" She resisted their grip. She knew Winston was too old to keep holding on: his Adam's apple, along with other parts of his body, were trembling.

Winston let go of her shoulders, and Lara ran out of William's grip and fled to the library. William ran after her, shouting back to Winston: "She's gone crazy! Call the police! An ambulance! Animal Control! Someone!" He disappeared into the library after Lara.

Winston shuffled over to the nearest telephone. After wiping the receiver with a handkerchief, he placed the phone up to his ear and started to dial 911. There was no ringing. All he heard was a busy tone.

William gasped.

"Believe me now?" said Lara, watching William's face turn into a rose pink as he stared down at the corpse.

"Okay… Obviously, we had an intruder.

"Bloody hell! Are you blind, William?"

"How the hell do you expect me to react! This isn't a normal occurrence!"

"I need you to work with me here! We can't afford to stand here and argue. I've proved myself, now we need to get moving or we'll all be killed." Realization dawned upon her. "We need to get Roger?"

William murmured something that sounded like "Did mim rye bite Jews?"

"What?"

"Did it try to bite you?" He asked, pointing at the corpse.

"Duh! Let's go."

The lights flickered. Outside, sounds of groaning and bodies being dragged across the ground leaked in through the windows. Lara shuddered.

"Will… get a sledgehammer. Start destroying the main staircase. We'll take shelter in my father's room. I'll get Roger."

Lara ran into Roger's bedroom to find him in a deep sleep. She gently shook him by the shoulder.

"Wake up, Roger. We need to leave."

Roger didn't respond.

"Quit playing games, Roger. I'm dead serious; get up."

He remained still. Lara scoffed. She yanked the sheets off of him and realized with disgust that he was naked. She picked him up despite his awful smell and carried him to their father's bedroom.

William cringed when she saw Lara approach with the naked teenager in her arms. Winston sat on the bed, organizing food he had taken into groups according to expiration date. When he saw Lara and Roger, he immediately drew back a corner in the bed sheets. She laid him down and Winston immediately covered Roger.

"What are you doing in here?" Lara snapped at William, who was fiddling with a switch on the back wall of the room, "You were supposed to start destroying that staircase!"

Winston interrupted: "Lara, those stairs are made of solid concrete. William is not strong enough. The only way we could destroy those stairs is if we poured acid on them."

"Then let's do that," said Lara matter-of-factly.

Winston shook his head. "Lara… there's no way. We don't have what is required."

There was a moan downstairs. They all stiffened in fear.

Lara bit her lip. It must've smelled their flesh. Now it would discover that the smell gets stronger the higher up the stairs he got.

"Who left the door open?" asked William, hands on his hips.

"It doesn't matter," Lara whispered. She looked intently at William. "You're going to be my husband soon. Stand by and fight with me. I'm sure there will be more."

"I've never fought before though."

"Now is your chance. Winston?"

"Yes, Dove?"

"I know my father has a weapons closet somewhere, and I know that you know where it is and how to open it. We don't have much time, please hurry."

Winston pointed at the back wall. "In the closet there."

By the time Lara and William left the room, there were three zombies walking aimlessly in circles in the lobby, while one dutifully tried to lead the others up the stairs. William held up the shotgun he found and aimed it for the head of the monster. With one shot, the ghoul was down.

"And you've never fought before?" Lara questioned.

"Archery helps with aim," William replied tartly, but with a small smile.

"You can handle yourself for now then. I need to go get pants on. Seriously."

William looked down at her legs. "You really don't have to…"

Lara rolled her eyes. "Take care of the rest. I'll be right back." She ran back to her room just as William started picking off the remaining zombies one by one.

Lara quickly opened a dresser drawer and pulled out a pair of jeans. She quickly tugged them over her knees, thighs, and finally, her butt. Then, she tied on some black combat boots from her closet. She still had her braid in from earlier, so there was nothing that needed to be done with her hair.

She left her room to see Winston waiting outside of Master Croft's bedroom. He had something in his arms. Lara approached him.

"If you're going to fight, use these. They are your father's favorites." He held out two leather gun holsters with shiny pistols already inserted into the sockets. Lara flinched. She'd never seen her father wear them in her entire life.

"Attach them to your belt like this…"

"Uh…" William was faltering downstairs, "Could you come back please! There's more!"

"Here, Winston, I've got this." She put the holsters in much less time than Winston's old, tired hands ever could. Lara trotted down the stairs. "How many more?" she asked William.

"Um, how much is a lot?"

"A lot."

"Oh, well, there's a lot then."

Lara rolled her eyes and went to look out onto the yard. Indeed, the number of ghouls that were roaming around was intense, but measurable, about twenty or so. Lara took out a pistol and aimed at one. She squinted, and then took a shot. The bullet flew through the air and hit nothing.

All of the zombies turned to look in the direction of the deafening sound. Their senses locked in on her and for that one second, Lara felt the world crumble over her shoulders.

"Shit." She said blatantly. Lara walked backwards into the house and drew out the other pistol.

"I have your back, Lara." William said quietly.

Lara glanced at him briefly, and then rose up her pistols at the doorway, steadying herself for the wave that would intrude soon. "That's the first un-selfish thing I've heard you say, William."

"I know, and I'm sorry." He readied his shotgun. "Please believe me when I say that I am."

"Ok, I believe you." She focused her attention on a female in a tattered pink dress that seemed to be the closest.

"I can tell that you don't. Look, I was trying, but horribly failing at being the man that you deserve."

"I'm not into snobs," she said haughtily. "I'm only marrying you because it would make my father happy."

"I know…" he said, "I'm not worthy of you. I've been a jerk. But if we die, I want you to know something."

"What?" she said darkly, tightening her grip as the ghoul became closer. Sweat dampened her scalp line.

"I'm in love with you."

"What?" Lara shot the zombie in the forehead. Its eyes rolled into the back of its head and fell backwards. The herd of zombies started increasing their speed. William shot another one that looked like Mick Jagger.

Her heart pounded harshly. She wished she could rip it out of her chest.

"Don't say your goodbyes, William. We're going to live," she assured.

William swallowed, "Okay, I trust you."

Lara nodded. "We can't let them get inside."

Winston explored Master Croft's walk-in closet more closely. The array of weapons was astonishing, and terrifying. The closet led to an even bigger space to hold Master Croft's motorcycle.

"I was wondering where that went to," Winston spoke to himself as he reached for the handle.

There was a growling coming from the bedroom.

Lara stood in the middle of the yard. Three zombies lied on the ground around her. She aimed at another one and fired successfully. She could feel herself gaining power over the pistols as if they were her own limbs.

They were nearly done until one zombie came from behind and grabbed William by his hair, pulled his head back and grabbed onto his chin. Lara was frozen as she watched the zombie's fingernails dig deep into his skin.

Lara went bug-eyed and ran to help, but it was too late. The zombie started tearing William's face off as it took a solid bit into his scalp. William's screams drowned out the sound of flesh being ripped from the bone. Two other zombies dove in on his thighs and stomach. William's bulging eyes seemed to search for her as he continued screaming.

Lara shot him first.

She walked in silently; her arms and legs were shaking. The morning sun was just starting to rise over England once again. There was no way to erase what she had just seen. Her mind was curious about the atrocities that might be happening downtown, but her heart didn't want to know.

She leaned against a wall, lost in thought. Lara had a sick feeling that there were even more zombies, and there was no telling when more would show up to the mansion.

Her thoughts traced back to William and the zombies feasting on his body right before she killed them all. She didn't want to shoot William, but she had no choice. He would've turned if she hadn't… Lara felt herself shudder with a sick and horrifying epiphany.

Roger had been bitten, she remembered. She stood straight and started to head upstairs. A loud thud coming from the bedroom made her start sprinting.

When she entered the room, Winston was lying on the floor unconscious, with Roger standing by the foot of the bed. He was still naked, but his eyes were glazed over, and his face was rigid with blankness.

Lara felt her heart sink. He had turned, and now she had to kill him. He started at her as if he recognized her, but Lara knew better.

Reluctantly, she pulled out a pistol and aimed. A groan leaked out of Roger's mouth. Lara started to cry. She felt the hot tears scroll down her cheeks and soak her lips. Roger stumbled towards her, and she fired. Roger's body slumped to the floor, and Lara fell to her knees, sobbing.

Her brother was gone, and he would never come back.

She put the pistol on the ground and put her face in her hands and cried harder. Killing William was one thing, but murdering her brother…

Roger had known Lara all of his years. He had depended on her, loved her, and trusted her with his life. Now she had taken it.

"I'm sorry…" she pleaded to Roger's zombified corpse, "this is my entire fault…"

Winston had already come to, and he watched Lara apologizing over and over to Roger.

"Lara, Dove," he managed to articulate.

Lara looked over at him, wide-eyed.

"Winston!" She crawled over to his side and immediately grabbed his wrist to check his pulse.

"You wasted too much time on a dead person," Winston gently scolded, "I could've had a heart attack."

"I'm sorry," she said quietly after putting his arm gently back on the ground, "can you get up?"

Lara made sure Winston was safe in his bed. She pulled up a chair by his side. He shook his head.

"Don't stay here with me, Lara."

"But I want to. I've taken two lives. I need to make sure you keep yours."

"I don't know what happened with William," he said, "but I trust that you did the right thing. Roger, however, was already dead. You did not take his life, Dove. Those monsters did."

Lara inhaled sharply. He tears were drying. He was right. Slowly, she felt her misery and pain turn into burning, vengeful hatred that filled her heart like hot lava.

"You need to go into town and help others," he continued, "You've learned how to handle yourself. It's your responsibility to help the people that can't."

"Why go to the town though?"

Winston gave a crooked smile.

"That's the fleshpot, Dove."

Lara bounded into her father's room and looked the other way when she saw Roger's corpse. She grabbed what she could carry over her back. Lara also found a small backpack that her father used for hiking trips and stuffed what she could find in there too.

She tied her Queen shirt tightly around her midriff so there loose ends that could be grabbed.

Lara considered shaving her head as well. She didn't want to meet the same fate as William, and she knew that her long braid would be an easy end to her life.

"I won't let my enemies get that close to me," she told herself. With that said, she sacked some grenades. She didn't know precisely how to use the weapons she was taking, but she'd seen plenty of war and action movies to have a sense of what she was doing. Lara knew that wasn't a good basis either, but for the time being, it was all she had.

She ventured into the back room, where the light flickered on as soon as she walked past the sensor. There, in all of its royal blue glory, was her father's prized motorcycle. She couldn't help but admire the way it flawlessly shined.

Lara knew her father would hate it if she high-jacked the glamorously-glossed beauty; the object that eased his miserable mood swings after Lara's mother died.

She also knew that her father wanted her to do the smart thing. Be the bigger person, be useful.

Lara went to get on and noticed that the key to the ignition was right on the seat, along with a pair of black, fingerless gloves. She slipped on the gloves and started the motorcycle. Her chest felt heavy with adrenaline, and her stomach was light with butterflies. The two of them almost seemed to push on each other.

She pushed the start button and the bike roared. Then she took the key out of the ignition and secured it in her pocket. Lara exhaled heavily then slowly released the brake.

She shot forward through the armory closet and eventually to the staircase. She veered to the left to avoid tumbling down the stairs. Instead, she crashed through the wooden railing and flew into the lobby, landed and drove out the open front doors, screaming the entire time.

When she entered town, it seemed to be vacant of souls. Lara drove slowly in the streets and examined the buildings and small shops. Nothing seemed populated. There weren't even any cars or trolleys on the road.

She parked in front of Christ First Church to see if any survivors had taken refuge inside. When Lara entered, there was an array of lit candles surrounding the altar. A short, elderly man kneeled in front of the cross, his head bent in deep prayer. She approached him as quietly as she could.

"What has happened here?" she asked politely.

The man kept his head bowed, but he responded:

"We have burnt the bodies, burnt them until they have become only ash."

"Bodies of whom?"

"The taken."

Lara nodded, "Where is everyone else?"

"The people who live have been evacuated. They have lost sisters, brothers, wives, husbands, sons, and daughters to the flesh-eaters disease."

"I understand. Are any of the, um, flesh-eaters still around?"

"Several."

"I'll kill them all," Lara turned to leave.

"Wait," said the man.

"What is it?" Lara looked at him.

"Burn whatever you can. Get rid of the virus."

"I intended to. You will die if you stay here though."

"I choose to stay in the House of God."

"Of course."

Now that Lara knew she had no humans to worry about, she set out to hunt. She started by raising a pistol to the air and firing a single shot. It didn't take much time for cliques of zombies to leave their hiding spots and come towards her.

Lara grinned and then went to go climb the nearest shop. From there, she had a good view of the ghoul-infested village. She aimed a Desert Eagle and began firing. Lara could tell by the number of zombies that she would run out of ammo soon, and she would have to think of an alternative.

She threw a grenade into the streets. The ghouls below disintegrated into thin air.

Then she had an idea.

The gas lines.

Lara immediately went from rooftop to rooftop, searching crevices and hidden compartments for gas lines. She cut them all open with Swiss army knife and grinned manically as she watch gallons of gas bleed out all over the town.

After massacring the gas station (and stealing some Twinkies and a couple cans of Coke while she was at it), Lara ran back to where her bike was and drove and fast as she could to the edge of town. When she got there, she looked back and pulled a grenade out of her backpack. With one swift motion, she pulled the ring and threw it. Then she floored the motorcycle in the opposite direction.

Seconds later, she heard a BOOM! A blast of hot air hit her back as she continued riding. When Lara reached a safe distance, she stopped the bike and looked back. Everything was on fire.

She pulled out one of her looted Twinkies and took a large, grateful bite.

"I'm never doing anything like that ever again," she said, then crammed the rest of the Twinkie in her mouth.

EIGHT YEARS LATER…

Lara relaxed on a comfy red couch in her favorite hotel in Calcutta. Just as she was about to close her eyes, she hard heavy footsteps approach, and the sound of a thick magazine being slapped down on the coffee table in front of her. She looked at lazily. It had her on the cover with the headline: "Lara Stamps Out Big Foot!" She rolled her eyes behind her sunglasses.

"What's a man go to do to get that kind of attention from ya?" said a man with a slight Southern accent.

Lara looked up to see that it was Larson, a fairly new person who pushed his way into her life.

"It's hard to say exactly," she responded tartly, "But you seem to be doing fine."

"Well, great. Though truth is, it ain't me that wants ya."

"No?" Aw, and I thought I might just get some tonight, Lara thought sarcastically.

"No," said Larson, pulling out a laptop and settling it onto the coffee table, "Miss Jacqueline Natla does."

He opened it to reveal an attractive blonde with narrow cheekbones and dark eyes.

"From Natla Technoligies, ya know?" Larson asked enthusiastically, "creator of all things bright and beautiful?" He laughed at what he thought was his charming wit.

"Seal it, Larson," Natla looked back as if she could see Larson standing behind the computer.

"Ma'am…" he murmured apologetically.

Natla turned back to Lara, then raiser her hands slightly.

"Feast your eyes on this, Lara," she said, as CGI money fell from the sky, "how does that make your wallet rumble?"

"I'm sorry," Lara stood up, trying not to laugh at Natla's ridiculous display, "I only play for sport."

"Then you'll like a big park. Peru? Vast mountain ranges to cover?" she asked seductively, "Sheer walls of ice? Rocky crags, savage winds; and there's this little trinket. An age-old artifact of mystical powers buried in the unfound tomb of Qualopec."

Lara pondered the pictures of landscape and the illustration of the artifact while Natla spoke.

"That's my interest," the suave blonde concluded, "You could leave tomorrow. Are you busy tomorrow?"

Lara found herself smiling.