|Roses Are Red, Dead Men Are White
Author: Loyal Wholockian PM
Summary: It has been a few months since Croft Manor erupted in flame and since Alister was killed by the Doppelganger. Has Lara begun the slow descent into madness. If so, who can stop her from drowning? No slash. Nothing supernatural.Rated: Fiction T - English - Angst/Hurt/Comfort - Lara Croft - Chapters: 15 - Words: 16,308 - Reviews: 50 - Favs: 7 - Follows: 8 - Updated: 08-15-12 - Published: 10-10-10 - id: 6388040
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N: Hey guys! First of all, thanks for clicking on this story! Cookie for you! *throws a cookie* XD Sorry for the terribly short chapters... but hey... it's my first fanfic, cut me some slack :P On that note, PLEASE don't flame! :( However, contructive criticism is always welcome! Just to let you know, there is nothing supernatural in this story. So anyway, I love you and leave you (for now *evil laugh* :P)! Enjoy!
Roses are Red, Dead Men are White
Chapter One: Roses are Red…
The wind howled. The rain pelted down, stinging the sole, standing figure, like thousands upon thousands of minute glass shards. Nonetheless the figure remained how and where she stood, still and resolute, her head bowed over a grave. The grave was freshly dug, it's soil black like the clouds that loomed overhead. The bare trees towered above the graveyard, swaying and groaning as if mourning with the lone mourner…
Or maybe it's the spirits complaining at my presence… The mourner thought.
Spirits indeed! She reprimanded herself.
Stupid girl! Thunder rumbled ominously as the mourner bent down and placed a solitary scarlet rose on the freshly turned soil, and then stood as rigid as a poker. She recited part of a poem, and the words echoed in her head, her gaze on the rose.
"My Love is Like a Red, Red Rose, that's newly sprung in June…"
So red… like the blood on his shirt. She thought. A solitary, silent tear trickled down her hooded face… and the face was none other than Lara Croft's. She shook her head as she tried to rid herself of the image. The image of blood, blossoming like a rose over a spotless white shirt. A rose bursting through the snow.
Lara felt herself breaking, buckling like paper carelessly dropped in a puddle. She fell to her knees, shaking with rage and sorrow. Sorrow at the death of Alister, rage at the fact that she hadn't had the courage to tell him what she knew she should have. Rage at the Doppelganger. Rage at death, Rage at the unfairness of it all. Lara wasn't a good loser. But she had never lost before. But now however, realisation had just dealt it's powerful blow. She had lost.
She raised her head and shouted accusingly at the sky.
"Why? What have I done? What did he do?" Furious that she wasn't getting an answer, Lara continued.
"Why did he have to die? What will it take for me to get him back?" The wind blew all the more harshly, mocking her.
"Answer me!" Lara yelled, raising her voice above the thunder, above the wind.
"I know you're there!" Lara stopped her rant abruptly. She trembled. Not because of the biting rain and freezing wind, but because of terror. Terror because she had lost control like this. And because she realised, she was broke. She, Lara, the impenetrable ice fortress, had broke.
Lara raked in hoarse, ragged breaths between sobs that racked her body. The cold bit into her harshly, until she was numb. She felt a hand on her shoulder. A familiar voice said her name.
"Lara…" It whispered softly, seductively.
Was this what it was like to lose your mind? Lara thought as the man sunk to his knees beside her.
Am I losing my mind?
So anyway, love? Hate? Please review and tell me what you think!