Revelations

Isn’t it strange what fear can do to people? You know it’s somewhere inside you, hiding in the darkest corners on your subconscious, patiently waiting to creep up on you and seize control over your senses, rendering you unable of conducting rational reasoning, leaving you angry and helpless. Isn’t it inconvenient? Absolutely. But in her line of work it’s even worse: it’s deadly.

Up to this moment she always thought that fear was helpful: she felt addicted to the rush of urgency and adrenaline that pumped through her veins every time she was in danger. Ancient blades, enormous boulders hurtling toward her fragile form, threatening to make her just a stain, a part of the interior design reeking of death and destruction, it was all in the day’s work. Competing against ancient genius was what she lived for, feeling exhilarated every time she entered an unexplored tomb, breaking its defenses and finding what wonders lay within.

But this time it was different. Fear was not her friend anymore. She had lost control over it, and now it was taking its toll for being abused for so many years.

She was hanging on almost absent- mindedly, suddenly weary and light- headed. She heard Werner but wasn’t sure she comprehended what he was saying.

“Take my hand! I can pull you to safety!”

“So sunny outside. Must be warm. Why on Earth does Werner have his jacket on? How thoughtless of him, must be sweating like hell.”

She looked up, mesmerized by the glistening drops of sweat clinging to his forehead, and smiled.

“Good to see you again, Werner.”

She was about to continue when a loud rumble interrupted her thoughts. Looking up, she was greeted by a cloud of dust and sand that coated her face and made her eyes water. This minor inconvenience made the world snap back into focus, allowing her to get a better grasp of the situation. Clinging onto a shaky rock by what seemed to be a miracle, since her muscles ached so badly and her fingers were sore and bloody, didn’t seem very prospective. And to make matters worse, the ground shook again and she felt herself slowly slipping.

Her heart skipped a beat as she struggled to pull herself up. “I will not die today. No fucking way.” She mustered all the strength she had left, already knowing in mid- process that her muscles will give away. Driven by the sheer force of stubbornness and the will to live, inching up painfully slow, she fought to clamber up. “Joke’s on you, bitch” she grinned mischievously, addressing fate, as she started to believe that she might just make it to safety.

Stone blocks started falling freely, plunging into the dark abyss that lay beneath her. Concerned that they were now barely missing her, she tried to double her efforts. She just managed to shimmy out of the way of a boulder half the size of a sports car, when a piece no bigger than a human skull hit her fingers. The speed at which it connected made the world burst in white- hot pain. Her immediate reaction was to release and before her mind could registered this, she was plummeting down into the darkness.

*	*	*

“Guess the joke was on me, after all” Lara Croft thought bitterly while wondering how many seconds of consciousness she had left. She didn’t ponder upon fundamental questions and didn’t pray. Instead she thought about what she would have been doing had she been outside right now. Would she have kissed Werner and hugged him till he could hardly breathe or shot him in cold blood the moment she was out?

“My pistols!” her fingers touched her hips, caressing the cold steel, an idea of putting a bullet through her head before hitting the bottom slowly forming. “If I do it right I’ll be dead before I can even register the pain.” It seemed reasonable enough: she wasn’t religious so she didn’t have any moral issues about committing a suicide. “Magnums are a girl’s best friend” she smiled, releasing one of them from its protective harness.

A sound registered down below, a distant crashing that was a bit muffled by the air swooshing all around her. “Well, let’s do it” Lara thought, raising her hand to her face, looking up one last time to see “the light at the end of the tunnel” that was ironically her only exit, stretching a good two hundred meters above. Though seemingly impossible, it got darker and before she could even question herself whether she really saw herself passing through a hole in the floor, the “about-to-be-dead woman” crashed into murky water, very much alive.

*	*	*

“Unbelieveable... The huge boulder that was going to flatten me and made me get hit by that other pebble actually saved my life. If there is a God, he must be having some bloody laughs,” Lara thought while trying to get to the surface. Now that she had some chance to survive, she was getting a tad concerned by the burning in her lungs and the disturbing absence of light to guide her to the surface. Clawing at the freezing water, she pushed forward with powerful strokes and hoped for the best.

The pleasant chill that enveloped her fingers made her breathe a mental sigh of relief and a moment later she was taking thankful gulps of air, examining her surroundings and letting herself relax and breathe normally again. She was in a fairly small place that didn’t look of any particular importance: storage room, perhaps. Taking in her surroundings, Lara started dog- paddling to a nearly invisible inclination next to one of the walls. While her aching body was trying to heave itself on the muddy ledge, she didn’t dare give in to the elation of being remotely safe now. Collapsing on the very edge, her body barely complied with basic functions. “Autopilot. Breathe in, breathe out...” The numerous cuts and a few serious wounds stung annoyingly from the slightly brackish water and her shoulder, which she realised was dislocated, was bothering her considerably. Her vision started to swim before her eyes, slowly darkening until she blacked out from exhaustion.

She felt a presence all around, lurking in the shadows, circling her, waiting, reaching out to touch her. Every time she turned around the young adventuress saw nothing but felt the intruder. She heard his faint laughter, almost saw the sneer on his dark face and smelled the foul breath of death on his lips. His glistening fangs were laughing at her, forming a mock expression of fear on his hideous face every time she turned around, grim determination to do away with him creasing her face into a mask of hatred.

A strong rush of claustrophobia hit her head on, the black vacuum enveloping her, making her sweat profusely and choke on her own laboured breaths, hyperventilation making her dizzy. Spinning in all four directions, feeling like a caged animal, anger building up with every passing moment, she searched for the intruder.

“Coming out of there would be really lovely, you know.” she said quietly, sarcasm dripping from her every word. “Or are you rather fond of this cat and mouse game?”

“I like your smell,” a thick, deep and somehow pleasant voice boomed all around her, tickling her ears. Lara quirked an eyebrow, genuinely surprised by the answer, and opened her mouth to reply.

“You have no idea how intoxicating the sweet aroma of panic is. It clouds one’s mind, spreading though each nerve, giving him a taste of what’s to come. Delicious. You know, Lara, there’s chemistry between us.” Low, growling laughter filled the room which made her jaw click shut and grit her teeth.

She took out her pistols, taking a battle stance and spitting out “Well, dinner is served, come and get me.”

All she saw was his fist when pure agony spread through the right side of her rib cage, making her lose consciousness for a moment as the blow lifted her off her feet and sent her crashing into the wall behind. The tomb raider barely hung on, falling breathlessly on hands and knees, one of her pistols skidding on the floor. She stood motionless for a second, trying to determine whether any ribs were broken, whizzing as she inhaled. Her vision was blurry but she managed to get up, legs trembling violently. “That was one damn good blow. I wish I had delivered it...” she thought as she looked up to Seth, his red eyes boring into her form.

Brown, glinting eyes narrowed to slits as she studied him cautiously, anger sparkling briefly as her muscles tensed. He looked at the woman amused, waiting to see what she would do next. He was going to have great pleasure breaking her, torturing her, making her beg, feasting on her cries for mercy. “I can hardly wait” was all he could think before she tackled him, both of them sprawling on the cold stone floor. She got up almost immediately, kicking him viciously in the gut, doubling him over. He merely grunted when she stomped on his sternum, breaking the fragile cartilage, putting pressure on his lungs. She took out her pistol and aimed right between his eyes, smiling wickedly but never had a chance to pull the trigger. Seth growled as he lashed his leg out, making her lose balance and hit the ground heavily. Before she even realised, he was on top of her, his eyes now even a brighter shade of red, and opened his mouth. She grimaced as the smell of rot and decay pervaded her nose and mouth, making her slightly nauseous. His slick, warm tongue trailed down her cheekbone to her mouth, invading it rudely and making her gag immediately. She suppressed the urge to vomit, biting down on the demon’s tongue. 

Seth bellowed and released her as a crimson liquid started flowing down his chin and tapped silently to the floor. He turned around to face her, barely whispering “Dying is too good for you, Lara Croft”, bloody spittle splattering across her face.  

With impossible speed, he reached for her throat and tried to strangle her. Panic of the unforeseen situation gripped her as she sunk her nails into his flesh, making deep gorges as he continued to choke her. She felt herself being lifted off the ground, as tears from the pressure flowed down her cheeks. She desperately needed air, feeling as if her lungs were submerged into molten iron, her muscles already starting to hurt from the lack of oxygen.

“Do you like it now?” he sneered, watching her gleefully.

“Go...to hell...” she muttered weakly, barely conscious.

He smiled wickedly and broke her neck with a single motion, her body going limp in his hand, staring vacantly into his eyes.

She woke up and instantaneously sprang to her feet, her face showing a look of panic like none she had ever experienced in her life. Her eyes darted to her sides, checking for any activity, hands at ready to pull out trusty magnums, gripping their handles so hard that her knuckles turned white. Sweat was streaming down her face, matting a few loose strands of hair to her forehead. Her heart was palpitating, threatening to burst free from her chest. When she made sure that she was alone in the darkness, she let her body ease and her mind relax.

“I feel ridiculous. It must have been just a strain- induced nightmare. Even though it felt so real.” She shuddered and traced a hand down her throat subconsciously, checking for any injuries. There were none, her unblemished skin slick with perspiration, pulse thumping crazily under her fingers. 

Looking around one final time, Lara sat down on the damp floor, removing her backpack from her back and placing it in front of her. She rotated her shoulder gingerly, trying to figure out how bad she had hurt it. The scapula scraped painfully against her shoulder joint, forcing a grimace on her face. “Ok, it’s pretty bad” she winced while taking out some antiseptic to disinfect her wounds. A nasty- looking deep gash on her thigh had already started to heal, dark, coagulated blood stretching a good fifteen centimetres down the front of her leg. She was thankful that the muscle hadn’t been severed even though it still made a serious injury. Her only medipack had suffered badly; most of the bandages had gotten tangled and soggy, but were still intact. She had lost her bottle of anaesthetic, wishing that it were here right now, knowing she was going to need it if she wanted to climb out of this rotten place.

“Well, I’ll just have to make the best of it. At least it’s better than nothing,” she thought while applying some creamy disinfectant to the numerous cuts and scrapes. After nursing her wounds, she got up and went on to further explore the place she was in. The condition of the room was horrible. The walls were covered with cracks lined with mould, the putrid smell heavy in the air. She lit a flare, bathing the space before her in an eerie green glow, making multiple bugs scurry away from the light into the comforting embrace of darkness. The walls were made of limestone, which instantly made Lara walk more cautiously. Now that she inspected her surroundings more carefully the whole construction looked as if would crash down any minute and she wondered whether it was safe to spend the night here... if it was nighttime, that is. She glanced at the ceiling and froze. There was no other opening but the fairly small one the boulder had made when it crashed through. All of a sudden getting out of here seemed even more impossible than before.

She stared at the hole stupidly, realising that there was no way she could get to it since she had no grappling hook or any rope for that matter. She took out another flare, glancing briefly inside the box and finding that there were only four left. Walking to the wall, she felt a familiar tingle inside her chest. The tomb raider had work to do. Hunching over the wall, she started inspecting the surface for anything that seemed odd, hoping strongly that there was a hidden exit.

The woman sighed deeply and sat down on the ground, spreading her legs before her and closing her eyes. There were no hidden triggers, no moveable blocks, no man- made cracks, nothing. “There has to be a way out. There always is.” Her experience with tombs and ancient civilisations had taught her that building traps requires a great amount of logical thinking and that there is always a way stop a mechanism. To every action there is a counteraction. She admired deeply the chivalry of these people to always give an intruder a chance to save himself, or herself in her case, by figuring out the way to stop the trap once it has been sprung. She believed that it was a kind of a test to prove whether she was worthy of gaining the knowledge hidden within. That is why she was always so respectful when she entered a newly discovered tomb. But this time there was nothing of the sort. She was unlucky enough to happen to be in a completely useless room that after having served its purpose was sealed shut. Her shoulders drooped with disappointment.

The adventuress knew that a considerable amount of time had passed, but she didn’t care, not even making the slightest of motions. She looked as though she was relaxing, or even sleeping, but behind closed eyelids she was thinking. All solutions that she could come up with either needed the use of an object she didn’t have or were destined to fail. “Where logic fails, brute force succeeds”. Lara Croft opened her eyes and slowly got to her feet. 

She gazed at the ceiling intently, trying to figure out how stable it was. Her plan was more than risky so there was no room for mistakes at this point. The structure above didn’t look comforting at all but still, Lara took a deep breath and reached into her backpack and pulled out her Uzi’s. “Shooting down the ceiling has got to be my worst plan yet. If I live through this, I’ll have Winston call up that shrink.” Sliding in fresh clips, she strode to a wall and faced the opposite way, raising her arms and aiming at the far corner of the structure. Narrowing her eyes, she slowly started pulling the triggers, heart thumping hard against her chest as a faint smile formed on her lips. 

The deafening roar of the guns rang throughout the room, making Lara’s ears ring. Her shoulder hurt unbelievably, pain slowly spreading down to her wrist and slackening her grip on the weapon. She tried to concentrate the firepower on one spot but her tired arms didn’t comply and her whole body trembled due to the guns’ onslaught.  Huge chunks of rock were flying everywhere as the bullets were literally eating away the ceiling. Suddenly an even louder boom was heard and Lara’s attention swerved immediately to the ceiling that started falling down fast, resembling a mudslide. Cursing, she turned around and ran for the wall. Without thinking, she raised her good arm upwards, shielding her eyes with the other one and started shooting. Huge stones crashed all around advancing at a great speed. The noise of tons of rock falling simultaneously became unbearable as the closest chunks struck a mere three meters away. Her wrist and forearm were screaming in pain but she continued firing relentlessly, unconcerned with the rubble falling down on her head and the tiny stone splinters biting into her flesh. The woman released her gun and dived for the spot under where she had been shooting, executing a not so graceful forward roll, smacking into the wall. She resembled a frightened child, her body huddled against the wall, hugging her knees in an effort to protect her body. Stones crashed all around her, some coming too close for her comfort. One in particular hit the wall on her right so hard that it perforated it, causing rocks to rain down on her tiny form, trapping her beneath the debris. 

Shortly, the avalanche stopped, and the air started clearing up, dust settling on every surface. Silence filled the room, the kind of silence that follows a gruesome battle when even nature doesn’t dare interrupt the grieving of the live ones. Not the faintest of sounds was heard; the place looked like it hadn’t been disturbed for years, centuries even. Only one soul, one Lara Croft struggled to 
get free, entombed under the ruins.

*	*	*

“Heave! Oh, come on, push harder! Damn you get off of me! No, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to fucking DIE! I can’t breathe, I’ll suffocate...” She was straining her whole body, muscles on the verge of tearing, fists pushing against cold stone. Panic spread through her entire body, numbing her senses and thankfully shutting out the pain that had become unbearable only moments ago. She couldn’t move: the awkward position she was in had minimized all chances of gaining purchase and hurling the enormous mass of rocks off of her. “Oh, no, this time I will die, no more lucky breaks.” Hot tears of fear and anger started streaming from her eyes, wetting the bridge of her nose and tickling onto the stone mass. She was getting desperate, realising for the first time that death had come to collect her. Her mouth went dry and she pressed her lips together, trying to gather some of the moisture that her eyes had shed, but there was none. Her parched lips scraped against one another, failing to relieve her discomfort. “Odd”. Her mind tried to comprehend what was happening, when suddenly it hit her. “If my nose is wet and my lips are dry then I must be sideways.” Then she remembered how she fought against the falling rocks, trying to get out of their way. In her panic she hadn’t paid attention to the fact that she has shifted positions. Straining her eyes, she tried to distinguish the rubble in front of her. In the darkness it was hard to see, but she thought she saw some regular patterns and she laughed nervously, as it suddenly dawned on her that all this time she had been pushing against the wall.

Lara started wriggling frantically, moving inch by inch, trying to force the debris out of her way as best as she could with her shoulders and arms, crying out uncontrollably as she put pressure on her injured arm. Anger mixed with panic boiled within her, rushing adrenaline giving her the extra boost she needed so desperately. She managed to turn around after an agonizing minute, every nerve in her body working to transmit full power the pain that tore her apart. She sobbed quietly, as if admitting defeat, not daring to rest for even a moment as she felt the oxygen depleting, her lungs already burning, her throat hurting, as it was covered in dust. Her body trembled violently as she started crying bitterly, trying her hardest to arch her back upwards, so as to push the stones on top of her out of the way. She felt the weight shifting and heard the sound of the first rocks tumbling down. Her head pounded and she felt nauseous, but kept on pushing, suddenly scared that she might pass out. “At least I’ll die fighting for my life, knowing that I did my best.” she thought grimly, while pushing up, feeling her ribs bending. “It’s not working, I won’t make it in time...” She pressed her palms on the rocks, and fought, muscles bulging, rocks moving painfully slow. Her vision dimmed and the tomb raider made one last effort, inhuman strength flowing through her muscles as she pushed. The last thing she saw were her bloody fingers pressed against the coarse stone and then she blacked out.

A fairly small rock on top of the pile shifted and made its way down, as a bloody hand emerged from the rubble. Its torn fingers came out for a brief moment, dark with blood and covered in grime, then slid lifelessly back inside the gaping hole.

*	*	*

She lay trapped under the rubble, motionless but for the almost invisible lifting and falling of her chest. Her body was bent in an awkward position, one hand on an empty holster, the other barely touching one breast. Total shutdown would best describe her current situation. Her body was unresponsive, not quite ready to wake up and function just yet. Twenty minutes had passed to the outside world when some sensations started reappearing. “So unbearably cold. Like in Antarctica,” were the first thoughts that formed into her clouded mind. Her skin started prickling, fine hairs standing erect, trying to preserve her body heat. Brown eyes opened, staring blankly above then shifting to look at the small opening through which dim light was infiltrating. She removed the hand from her chest, slowly reaching for the hole, as if to touch the light, retracting startled when she touched stone, surprised that her fingers didn’t just pass through. She stood motionless as the preposterous idea that maybe, just maybe she was still alive nestled into her mind.

Lara Croft swallowed hard and grimaced because her throat complained, still sore from the dust. An unnamed feeling rose to her chest as she lifted her arms and started pushing the stones out of her way. With every motion she got angrier, gritting her teeth and watching the rocks with such great malice that would have made every living human being freeze on the spot, terrified. By the time she had cleared enough space to get out, she was suffocating, rage so strong within her, threatening to explode any moment and obliterate everything in her path.

Ignoring the pain that spread through her limbs, the woman tried to jump out, landing hard, legs buckling beneath her weight. She struggled onto her hands and knees guided by uncoordinated motions, her whole body trembling. Her head was facing downward, her ruined plait brushed against her cheek, sweeping the dusty ground. Her fingers dug into the dirt and she let out a loud, animalistic cry full of anger, pain and frustration. Out of breath, the tomb raider slumped to the ground like a wounded animal. Barely inhaling, she turned to the lake, eyes staring before her vacantly. A few lone tears made their way down, rolling to the dirt that took them greedily. She tilted her head to look at the glistening surface and reached out, slowly dragging herself to the water. Her knees scraped painfully against the cold stone, leaving red bloody marks as she progressed but she didn’t care. Physical pain did not concern her anymore. With great effort she extended her arm, letting her fingertips dip in the water, awakening it with ripples that made the light reflecting off the surface dance. The tomb raider guided her hand back to her parched lips, sucking the water greedily off her fingers, the wonderful sensation of the cool liquid caressing her throat sending shivers down her spine. She didn’t even care about the slightly salty taste, enjoying the moment, as it was the first pleasant thing that had happened to her since she last saw daylight. Tensing muscles, gathering strength that virtually didn’t exist anymore, she managed to pull herself to the edge and drank hungrily, fully conscious of the possible diseases that were entering her organism right that moment.

*	*	*

She woke up sweating, violent shivers racking her whole body, chills travelling constantly up and down her form. “The water. Shit” was her immediate thought while she tried to get to her feet clumsily, arms flying out in an effort to help her keep balance. No sooner had she gotten up than she doubled over, vomiting hard, her stomach muscles spasming violently, bile splattering at her feet, its pungent odour assaulting her nose. She stood hunched over a long time, longer than there was anything left to throw up but still gagging at pure air. The world span before her as she straightened up, clutching her midsection and she lashed out a hand, seeking something to lean on. Using the wall to support her, she closed her eyes and tried to fight nausea that rose up once more. After the sensation passed, Lara wiped the sweat off her forehead, breathing in deeply, feeling a little better.

She gingerly made a few steps forward, looking around. “It’s high time I left before the whole pyramid falls down on my head.” Turning around, she suppressed a shudder, thinking of all that had happened to her in this place. Not one time has her luck been so rotten, playing with her emotions as it did: live, die, live, die once again. “Will I really manage get out of this place alive?” She wasn’t sure. All she was sure of was that she needed to get away from here. It reminded her too much of her own death, as this was what she perceived this experience to be: ceasing to exist. She somehow felt that a part of her had died here, a very sane part, a stubborn part that always believed that she would survive because her cause is just, a kind and loving part that was able to forgive and forget. Then what was left? She didn’t know, but she intended to live long enough to find out.

Lara Croft strode confidently close to the wall, looking up and judging the distance to the opening above. “Roughly three metres. A piece of cake, had my arm been functional, that is.” She glanced around for something that might be of use, her eyes falling on one of the stones that had previously made the ceiling. It was big enough to give her a sufficient chance, but unfortunately it was also a good two metres away. “Either this or I rot here,” she thought and headed to it. The woman looked intimidated by the size, feeling hope reappear at the same time, knowing that the bigger it is, the better. She took a step backwards, squatting a bit, her face grim with determination. Sweat droplets formed on her brow, as she suddenly got scared that she wouldn’t be able to move it. Without giving herself a second chance to hesitate, she rammed her good shoulder into the rock, pushing as hard as she could. Perspiration hung to her body, wetting her tank top and making her skin glisten. Low grunts brought to life by the effort escaped her lips, the stone mass slowly moving forward. Her muscles ached badly, the pain causing her vision to blur constantly. She struggled for more than half an hour, panting hard, her heart straining to provide her muscles with enough oxygen, thumping crazily. An exerted moan came from her lips as she slid against the stone, dropping to the ground, positively exhausted. She brought her legs to her chin, elbows resting on her knees, trying to catch her breath. A weak smile formed on her lips, her eyes lit with content that she had succeeded. Resting her head on the stone surface, she smiled more broadly, excited to get out of this dank hole.

*	*	*

The tomb raider clambered upon the rock, turning around and taking one final look at the ruined room. The lake in the middle was still as peaceful as before, light dancing on its surface, just as happy to see her go as she herself was. The whole place was devastated, debris littering the floor, denting it on a number of places. Her eyes fell on one particular pile of rocks and all of a sudden she felt weak in the knees, her face growing pale, the glow in her eyes dimming. She swallowed hard and looked away, trying to compose herself. Denying that this experience had shaken her to the core would be cowardly and childish because there was no way she could hide her emotions and try to just dismiss them. There would be no point in that either, because she had to remember, it was to remind herself that even she, the best in her line of work, wasn’t invincible.

Lara Croft approached the pile slowly, concentrating all of her will power to take another step forward, then another. The look on her face made it clear that going near it was the last thing she wanted to do right at this moment but she knew she had to. “7..., 8..., 9..., 10..., 11...” she counted, forcing herself to concentrate on the steps, knowing it was the only thing keeping her from tearing out of this wretched place.”12.” she stopped in front of the pile and kneeled down, taking her backpack off and putting it in front of her. She examined its contents and took out the most necessary items: the remainder of the disinfectant and the flares, a few spare clips for her magnums, a compass, two broken credit cards and one whole, and her GPRS device, which she wasn’t sure whether still worked or not. Surprised, but nonetheless thankful, she pulled out a half- eaten candy bar that had melted and smeared across the walls of her backpack, taking a bite out of it and grimacing. She ate the rest of it fast, looking ill, her stomach rebelling against the spoilt food, even though it knew it was the only one she had left.

The woman got up and started climbing the mount of stones, holding her breath unconsciously. She stopped when she reached the top, sighed and knelt down, placing her backpack among the rubble. She caressed the worn- out leather lovingly, her hand trembling as she traced the surface. A lone tear escaped her eye and she wiped it away, gazing at her companion throughout all the years of adventuring. “How many years has it been now, ten, fifteen?” she couldn’t remember, but she knew that her trusty backpack had been with her on all of her journeys “Peru, Antarctica, China, Tibet, The South Pacific, Atlantis, oh, Atlantis...”

“Rest in peace, Lara Croft, your journey may have finished, but mine has just begun” she thought, looking at her backpack as she stood up and turned to the opening in the ceiling.

Feeling a bit naked without the comforting weight on her back, the tomb raider walked to the stone block next to the wall, trying to reach the top. A low grunt filled the air and a moment later a face hidden behind a multitude of tangled locks of hair showed above the edge of the rock. Her arms trembled as she clambered up, tired muscled fighting to comply with the task. She finally managed to hoist herself on top, leaving bloody fingerprints on the edge. Panting hard she looked up, determination to get out of this pyramid strong within her, lighting a sparkle in her eyes. 

The sun outside had started to set when, breathing heavily and covered in grime, Lara Croft finally emerged on solid ground. She could feel lactic acid building up in her muscles, but she was too tired to get up and keep moving. Lying on the floor face down, she let herself relax for a moment. Then, groaning, she staggered up, forcing her bruised body to function once more. She had barely made a few shaky steps when her legs gave way and she collided with a nearby wall, a pleading moan full of pain filling the room. The cool stone scraped against her cheek with each breath while she tried to muster up the remainder of her strength to move once again, putting one foot in front of the other.

The tattered body of a woman slowly progressed down the dark holes of the pyramid. Even though it was obvious that her condition was critical, there was an aura of a fighter surrounding her, leaving no doubt in any observer’s mind that she would not stop as long as there was a breath in her body. She was one that would not give up easily.

*	*	*

“From what I remember, the lower level had an exit to the north- northwest” she thought, checking the compass briefly to make sure that she was moving in the right direction. It seemed to her that she’d been walking for at least three hours but she knew better than to trust herself in her current state. She’d been longing for a rest for quite some time now, but never allowed herself to even slow down, knowing that she was already treading on pathetically slow. Looking up, she was greeted by the same boring surroundings: a low limestone ceiling with patches of mould lining the cracks, bare narrow walls that kept going on forever, disturbed by the occasional left or right turn, barely opening up into another lonesome chamber that proved nothing of interest to the archaelogist in Lara. She sighed and kept moving, glancing around from time to time, just so she wouldn’t miss anything that might prove helpful.

After walking for what seemed another three hours to her, the passage reached an abrupt end. At first she thought that it was sealed shut, but after a more careful look she realised that the stones didn’t follow the pattern of the rest of the hallway, and possibly the end of the hallway could be moved away by triggering some kind of a mechanism. She lit her last flare, cursing that she hadn’t used them more wisely, and began examining the stone before her. The tomb raider couldn’t notice any irregularities on the surface and pushing against its surface didn’t help either. The flame flickered and her heart quickened its pace even more, knowing that in another twenty seconds or so she would be enveloped in darkness once again. She kneeled down, feeling the bottom of the stone and when it didn’t budge, she raised herself on her tiptoes and stared at the top intently. Nothing seemed to catch her eye when suddenly her look darted back to a small incision right at the top. She had started lifting her hand toward it when her only source of light was spent, leaving her to total blackness. She cursed profusely and reached up, hoping that her mind’s eye will guide her to the right direction.

She ignored all senses, putting all trust into her fingertips that felt about carefully, trying to find the narrow slit. All efforts proved futile and she cried out in frustration, banging the stone obstructing her way. The woman raised herself on her tiptoes once again and traced the ceiling. Her fingers stopped at a patch of stone, maybe five centimetres wide that seemed cooler to her than the other stone. She moved away her hand a bit and felt a pleasant breeze touching her mangled fingers. A faint smile formed on the woman’s face as she reached into the opening and pushed, satisfied with the clicking sound that emanated from the opening. She cringed at the noise of stone grating against stone and looked excitedly as a part of the passage slowly moved out of the way, revealing a narrow stairway that led up. The steps were covered with a thin film of dust, the occasional shell of a dead scorpion littering the floor. Lara took in her surroundings, making sure that the stairway was her only choice and started climbing. The steps were uneven and she slid a few times, almost tumbling back to the base. 

Dim light fell upon the figure of a lone adventuress, showing her previously toned body that was now badly bruised. She looked around carefully, hands on her holsters, making sure there were no threats lurking in the shadows and took a step forward. She was in a fairly spacious cavern that was empty but for the scorpions scampering around, not sensing her yet or indifferent to her presence. The interior was made of limestone, the floor hiding beneath a layer of sand that reached to her ankles. 

Her eyes fell upon an opening no bigger than thirty centimetres in diameter at the far- left corner of the room. She advanced to it with powerful strides, not even stopping to wonder where the sudden burst of strength that had overcome her had come from. As the distance shortened, she realised that the opening was in a wall of boulders stacked one on top of the other. She pressed her palms to the rock surface and stuck her head out and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath of the fresh night air. The horizon had started to light up, orange shades pushing back the indigo sky.

The woman strained her body against the stone surface, pushing against the rocks as best as she could, feeling them move against her arms. Her back arched and she dug the soles of her boots in the sand, sinking almost to her calves as she struggled with the boulders. After a good fifteen minutes the rocks loosened and started tumbling down, the opening growing wider and wider before the smiling face of the tomb raider, until finally, it was big enough for her to pass through.

The sun was rising fast, its angry red rays assaulting the sky, piercing the nightly darkness and forcing it to give way to the dawn of a new day. The lonely figure of Lara Croft struggled out of the cavern into the cool desert, standing victorious, greeting the rising sun as a new world greeted her.

A flaming orange aura surrounded her as she slowly made her way through the dusty dunes of the Egyptian sands.

THE END

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

A/N
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