"Lara Croft And The Spirit Of Bacchus"

by: Will Turner
**This story is copyright of its respectful owner**

LOCATION: Mexico - Pyramid of the Magician

Memory can play tricks on you, especially when that memory blocks out the moment you parachute out of a plane and end up… Well, wherever it was, it was on top of a mountain in a valley, and Lara still had The Fire Of Prometheus in her hand. 
She looked around at the opulent marble hall, complete with the obligatory columns. There were waterfalls, statues and several corridors, each with a different symbol above their doors.
A helmet, a goblet, a trident and the Sun. That was it, Gods! One of these paths was safe, one was a trap, she was sure of it. Was this the legendary Hall of Mount Olympus, the home of the Gods themselves? 
She tried to think. The helmet was Mars, God of war. That would mean spears, means death. The trident was the symbol of Neptune, God of the sea. That would lead to drowning. 
The Sun meant Apollo, meant burning, thus the only logical move forward was the path of Bacchus. After all, what could be wrong with feasting and partying? 
She walked down the path, but as she walked something happened to her stride. Gradually, she felt slower and slower, until the path seemed to stretch forever. She was now panting, gasping for a drink. 
With a great deal of effort, she finally managed to get her backpack off her back. Why was it so heavy? She removed the contents, only to find instead of guns, flares etc, there were hot dogs, popcorn and giant sized sodas. What was happening? Whatever, she was so hungry she couldn’t be bothered to continue asking questions. 
“The Spirit Of Bacchus compels you, Lara! Eat, be joyful, look at yourself. You are amazing!” The long hall of mirrors showed Lara in her full glory. Sure enough, she turned and thought ‘Wow, I really do look great’.
But it was all a trick. As Lara left the corridor, she suddenly woke up. She was in the middle of Faliraki, bemused and unable to get up. The tourists were laughing their heads off with the laughs coming from a man who looked like a Greek Tom Jones.
“You!” Lara growled at the sight of him. She tried to reach her belt for her guns, finding only a couple of hot dogs. 
“You’re not really my type, fatty.” He kicked her aside, laughing. That was it, she thought. With a guttural roar normally reserved for lions chasing wildebeast, she slammed him into the bar. 
“Get her!” Bacchus announced to his burly bouncers, who went to restrain Lara. But Lara, in a blind fit of rage pawed them aside. She could feel the strength in her body again, much to Bacchus’ disgust.
“You can’t fight the urge to eat, Lara!” came the voice. “You like being this way. Just let go, you can have a life of total freedom, you can be anything you want.” 
“You’re right.” smiled Lara. 

Suddenly, Lara was back in the valley. Only this time, she was at the foot of the mountain. She tried to climb up, but every time she did, her body craved more and more food and she became heavier and heavier. 
Then she figured it out. The helmet didn’t represent The God Of War, but Athene, the Goddess of Wisdom. Bacchus’ curse only worked because she hadn’t figured out the trap. 
Unhesitantly, Lara flung her backpack aside. True, she was still fat, but this time Bacchus’ words had no effect. She climbed to the top, got through the corridor and ended up in the Goddess’ room. 
She placed herself at Athene’s statue, reversing the curse on her body and entrapping Bacchus’ spirit. She wondered what she would do now. Still, she had heard that the Greeks made excellent shish kebabs… 

THE END

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"What we do in life echoes in eternity"

Lara Croft and Tomb Raider are trademarks 
or registered trademarks of Square Enix Ltd. All rights reserved.

Story by Will Turner