LARA IN PERIL

Lara Croft Vs. The Vampire

by BioDread

Prologue

Laura Krauftmann bit back a shout of alarm at the last moment as she fell down the side of the rain-slick tower. Rough, gray stones battered Laura's slender body while she plunged, when a window ledge appeared Laura grasped desperately for it, slim fingers caught the stone ledge. Laura's arms throbbed as she hung precariously to the narrow outcropping.

Thunder roared in the black sky, lightning snapped in long, azure spears. Rain deluged Laura to the bone, the young woman felt chilled to her soul, she scrabbled at the mortared rock surface of the castle tower with her feet, when she found holds for her soles, she pushed up onto the window ledge. Laura pushed on the closed, stained glass window, the portals opened smoothly, Laura rolled over the ledge and dropped to the thickly rugged floor.

A flash of lightning illuminated the room's interior. The chamber was a guest room, with a large, dust-veiled bed and a wardrobe set against the left-hand wall. Laura straightened to her feet, tossing her head to flick water from her long, dark brown braid of hair. Laura unsheathed one of the two short swords she wore upon her shapely hips, she padded across the crimson rugs laid out over the cold stone.

Laura carefully opened the guest chamber's iron-bound door. A cracked stone stairwell curled down into the depths of Drakenhof Castle. Guttering torches in iron sconces lit the way for Laura as she descended the narrow stairwell. The air was bitterly cold and dank, there was a faint, barely detectable sweet smell of rot flowing upon an air current emanating from the lower bowels of the castle. Laura wrinkled her pert nose and clutched her short sword more tightly in her right hand, she drew the matching blade from her other belt sheath. Both short swords were edged with silver, both blades had also been blessed by a priest of Sigmar. Laura always prepared for her battles, and tonight, on the eve of the Empire's fall, she planned to do battle with the most powerful vampire in history, Vlad Von Carstein.

The beautiful thief reached the foot of the winding stair. She entered a long, arched hallway lit with two ranks of crackling, iron braziers. Incense burned in each of the smoldering braziers, no doubt to mask the rising stench of stale blood and rotting flesh that suffused the cold air of the passage. Laura padded to the left on her knee-high, leather boots, to the right was a tall, narrow, arched window of stained glass depicting a scene of butchery, the scarlet glass glowed when a lightning flash snapped from the boiling, black sky.

As Laura walked with swords held before her, she heard loud moans coming from up ahead. A sharp scream froze Laura for a moment, the anguished cry quickly faded into a dying whimper. The smell of blood grew stronger in Laura's nostrils, she reached a tall set of double oak doors bound in pitted iron, the right hand portal was ajar, Laura peered into the hall beyond.

It was an orgy of pale flesh and blood-soaked bodies. Laura recognized the naked woman sitting at the head of the table, Isabella Von Carstein, the dreaded Count's wife. Isabella was sighing with pleasure, her slim, white legs open and resting on her high-backed chair's arms while a naked peasant, a burly, brown-skinned brute, nuzzled her shaved pussy, licking the juices flowing from her milky white sex with a fat, glistening tongue. Isabella leaned forward while the coarse farmer slurped between her alabaster thighs, she bared dainty, ivory fangs and plunged them into the inner thigh of a naked, manacled, peasant girl sitting on the edge of the long table facing her Countess. Five vampire lords sat around the candle-lit dining table with Isabella, fornicating with and drinking from beguiled, naked slaves.

Laura felt her gorge rise, she swiftly left the open door and resumed her passage through the tall, arched hallway. The gray corridor turned right, Laura followed the narrow passage, braziers replaced with more smoking torches in sconces. There was a bank of stained glass windows to Laura's left, lightning gave the depraved scenes life, images of rape and slaughter were imprinted upon the young woman's mind. At the end of the corridor was a T-intersection, Laura took the left, which led to the master tower of Castle Drakenhof.

A rich, wine-colored rug stretched the length of this arched, narrow passage. Portraits framed in gold were set along both walls, beautiful drawings of young women, the daughters of nobles and lords, queens from ancient antiquity. The pictures were exquisite, Laura could make her life's fortune by simply selling the pieces in this hall. The lovely thief dragged her auburn eyes away from the gallery of portraits, she had accepted a commission from the Emperor Apparent, she would see the task done to save her kingdom.

A wide staircase rose at the passage's end. Candles were set on the walls in golden holders shaped like soaring angels, the candles were beeswax, their sweet scent filled the rising stair.

Laura swallowed before beginning her long climb. The steps were draped in violet, the rough, mortared walls glowed with golden candlelight. Before she knew it, Laura reached the summit of the wide staircase, two polished, oak doors were sealed shut, runes of warding framed the thick portals.

The slim thief examined the iron lock of the closed doors while she sheathed her blades and retrieved her lockpicks from a beltpouch. Laura knelt before the keyhole, she licked her lips, then raised two slender metal probes, she slipped them into the lock. Droplets of perspiration beaded Laura's forehead while she worked, her bright, auburn eyes widened when she heard the heavy lock snap open. Laura put away her tools and fisted a short sword in her right hand. Tentatively, Laura pushed the thick oak door on the right open, perfume teased Laura's nose, she quietly slipped inside Count Carstein's sanctum.

The bedchamber was huge, easily the size of a popular tavern's common room. Rich, velvet drapes hung open to Laura's left and directly opposite the double doors, rain crashed against the thick, stained glass, lightning cracked repeatedly. The floor was covered with wolf pelts, black, gray, silver. Laura's boots were quickly buried in the lush fur, Laura wished she could take off her boots so she could run her toes through the warm wolf hair. To Laura's right was the gigantic bed, a four-poster affair veiled in velvet gold and ebony. The heraldry of the Carstein bloodline was inscribed upon the footboard of the bed in dark oak and gold varnish, through the hanging folds of the velvet drapes Laura spied the Vampire Count himself, Vlad Von Carstein, stretched out in satiated repose.

The scent of perfume that clung to the chill air came from the young woman lying next to Vlad. The girl was naked, resting on her back, limbs resting at her sides, skin marble white with a network of blue veins running along the insides of her thin arms, thighs, and blossoming from her gray nipples. Two neat puncture holes gleamed on the right side of the naked girl's throat, her glazed blue eyes were open wide, her blue lips were parted, as if she were sighing. Vlad rolled onto his left side, he draped his right arm across the dead girl, cupped her cold, left breast.

Laura fought down the urge to expel the bile burning in her throat. Acid churned in Laura's stomach, her legs shivered. Watching the sleeping vampire warily, Laura shifted to the side of the bed, she ran her eyes over the Count's naked, muscled frame, searching for her prize.

The Carstein Ring gleamed upon Vlad's right hand. Laura glanced at the handsome Count's relaxed face, then she slowly reached forward, until she held the golden ring between two fingertips. Biting her lower lip, sweat covering her lovely face, Laura gently slipped the gold band from Vlad's pale finger, she quickly palmed the ring when it was free.

Laura cautiously backed away from the massive bed, she dropped the Carstein Ring into a small beltpouch and cinched the little bag tight. Laura crossed the bedchamber swiftly, arrowing straight for the beckoning door.

The bed creaked behind Laura. The tense young woman looked over her left shoulder, Vlad was sitting up, long nostrils flaring, his eyes two black pits as he turned to stare at the wide-eyed thief. Vlad slowly smiled, sharp, ivory fangs flashed in a burst of lightning.

Laura dove through the open door, she sprinted down the master tower's stairs, her heavy breasts bouncing, her long braid flying behind her. The Vampire Count's furious roar froze Laura's blood, she couldn't breathe, panic welled inside her. The beautiful thief followed the writhing passageways, lightning blinded her through the horrific stained glass windows, the violent thunder shook the stone floor beneath her flying boots.

Glancing over her shoulder again, Laura cried out when she saw Vlad hurling after her, his corpse-white body draped in a midnight-black cloak, the garment fluttering like bat's wings as he sailed in pursuit. Laura ran faster, her lungs were ablaze, her belly was one tight knot.

The doors of the dining chamber were thrown open, naked vampires spilled out into the hallway. Laura drew her blessed swords and cut her way through the pale white flesh, vampires howled and clutched gushing wounds that would not heal. Vlad ignored his wounded comrades, he blew past like an angry wind, black folds snapping around him.

Laura tried to lose the Count in the winding passages of Drakenhof, but Vlad had lived in the dark castle for centuries, he knew every turn, every musty chamber. Laura stumbled into a long corridor, a huge stained glass window dominated the far wall, Vlad feeding upon a radiant female angel, while vampiric hordes poured up through ivory clouds to invade Heaven.

Laura staggered along the passage, breasts heaving, sweat dripping from her flushed face. Vlad stood at the corridor's mouth, blocking Laura's escape. Vlad followed Laura like the hunched figure of Death, bloodless, white claws snatching at the air behind the stumbling young woman. Von Carstein deeply inhaled the frigid air, he could smell Laura's terror, and the sweet musk of her perspiring body.

Laura stopped before the towering window, lightning flashed, Laura's horrified face was bathed in crimson and gold. The slender thief spun on one boot heel, Vlad filled the corridor like a billowing, black fog, his eyes burned like pits of red flame, his mouth was a wide, jagged maw.

"Come to me, girl. Give me back my ring."

Laura felt her eyelids grow heavy, her pussy was instantly wet and hot, her round nipples strained against the coarse fabric of her leather vest. Laura took a shaking step forward, Vlad smiled wider.

"That's it, come closer, let me embrace you."

The thought of the vampire's touch made Laura shiver with delicious anticipation, the crotch of her leather trousers was stained dark from her drenched pussy, she untied the front strings of her tight vest and allowed her swollen nipples to slip free into the chill air.

"Yes, you are a beautiful, young thing. I will make you mine, I will make your body tremble as I play it like a violin."

Stale air from Vlad's purring mouth washed over Laura's mesmerised face, she blinked her heavy eyelids, awareness returned.

Laura ducked beneath Vlad's sweeping arms, she dove for the tall window, crouching low until she leapt through the stained glass.

Vlad Von Carstein roared in fury. He flew to the gaping window, he looked down at the thief's dropping outline until it was swallowed by the dank, black waters of Drakenhof's moat three stories below. Vlad ground his ivory teeth together, rage made his lean body shudder. The Vampire Count was vulnerable now, he no longer had the protection of the ring's immortal magic.

***

Chapter One

Lara Croft's tight rump bounced on the stiff benchboard of the rocking carriage. A flat red cushion was supposed to soften the shuddering ride, but Lara could swear she felt bruises across her rounded buttocks. Lara clutched her black longcoat shut over her throat, the silver fox fur lining was soft against Lara's cold cheeks, she looked out one of the peeling, gilded windows, the landscape of Sylvania was jagged and bleak. The early evening sky was already shifting from blood-red to velvet black, hardly any stars glittered in the void, only a crescent moon shined dimly in the darkening sky, a dagger of bone hanging from an ebony breast.

The coach driver cracked his long whip, the snorting ebony chargers raced faster along the broken dirt road. Lara wished she could open the suitcase that held her pistols, she felt naked sitting in a decrepit coach that lurched across a wolf-infested, dismal land. Lara reminded herself of why this trip was necessary, an obscure count had written to her, revealing that he had a copy of the rare Liber Mortis tome. The Liber Mortis was a legend, an ancient Middle-Eastern text written before the rise of the Pharaohs, supposedly filled with mythologies of long forgotten deities and ancient spells of the Old Kingdom. The British Museum was willing to pay millions for the Liber Mortis, but they would not send one of their own agents, and Count Carstein had specifically requested that Lara Croft act as liaison.

The creaking coach ground to a violent halt. Lara gratefully threw the small door open and jumped to the ground, she reached back inside to retrieve her two large suitcases. As soon as Lara had her cases, the cloaked driver snapped his whip, the sweating black chargers lunged forward, the coach disappeared into a rising fog coming from Castle Drakenhof's wide, deep moat.

The wind was bitterly cold, Lara hefted her cases and walked towards the castle's lowered drawbridge. Wolf howls shattered the heavy silence, they sounded close, Lara repeated her wish for a loaded pistol in her hand. Puffs of ash rose from Lara's footfalls, the beautiful young woman was glad she was wearing her sturdy boots. Chill fingers of air combed through Lara's dark brown hair, Lara walked faster, she crossed the wide, crumbling drawbridge and entered a rubble-choked courtyard. A mournful wind sighed through the shattered, rock-strewn yard, black weeds and skeletal thorn bushes littered the space between the neglected castle wall and the keep proper. Lara looked up at the slender castle towers as she crossed the yard to the waiting double portals, the narrow tower windows were all empty and dark except for the stained windows of the master tower, which glowed warm crimson.

When Lara lifted her heavy cases over the entry stair's summit, the huge, arched, double doors of the castle screeched open, warmth enfolded the young woman.

A gorgeous woman with pure, alabaster skin and flowing raven hair appeared in the doorway, she smiled a welcome to Lara, her dark eyes beguiling.

"Welcome to Castle Drakenhof, I am Countess Isabella Von Carstein, wife of my lord Count," curtsied the slender beauty.

"Hullo, my name is Lara Croft, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Please, come in from the cold," bade Isabella, stepping aside.

Lara lifted her suitcases and followed Isabella into the brightly lit, warm foyer. A silent servant dressed in a severe black suit closed the thick doors after Lara, she glanced at the servant, he was incredibly pale and completely bald, he even lacked eyebrows.

The curvaceous Countess guided Lara up a winding stair carpeted in gold-fringed scarlet. The two young women walked softly down a candle-lit hall, Isabella stopped before an iron-bound door and unlatched it for Lara.

"This is your room, please rest and refresh yourself here until my lord is ready to speak with you."

"Thank you," smiled Lara, hefting her cases into the candle-lit bedroom.

Isabella smiled and closed the door behind Lara, her dark eyes smoldered with hunger as she watched Lara's back and luscious buttocks through the closing portal.

Lara set her cases down gratefully at the foot of a large, canopied bed. The poles that held up the black velvet canopy were gnarled, dark oak, the sheets were black silk, gleaming in the gold candlelight. Lara sat on the left edge of the bed, she stroked the sleek sheets with her right palm, she took in the wardrobe to her right and the small table next to it with a basin and pitcher. There was a single window on the far wall of the bedroom, it was made of stained glass, it depicted a scene of a beautiful female angel baring her throat to a tall, black-maned man with sharp, elongated fangs. Lara found the scene disquieting, she rose from the soft bed and went to the basin to wash her face.

***

A blank-faced servant led Lara into a huge sitting room. An enormous fireplace was set in the wall opposite Lara, ten people could fit inside the roaring furnace. Wolf pelts covered the stone floor before the blinding fireplace, plush leather chairs were set in an arc around the flickering bonfire.

The heat slapped Lara's face, nearly stealing her breath away. She blinked in the bright flames' glow, she looked for her host.

Count Vlad Von Carstein stood to Lara's right, pouring drinks into gleaming crystal glasses. The wine Vlad poured was scarlet and thick, Lara's mouth watered, she longed to taste the vintage. The Count turned slightly when Lara walked past the threshold, he smiled warmly, his dark eyes sparkled, Lara admired the man's shoulder length ebony hair that reflected the orange firelight.

"Welcome to my home, Lara Croft," bowed the Count. He brought the two filled glasses to Lara and offered her one, Lara accepted and eyed the dark crimson liquid.

"To my beautiful guest whose deeds are spoken of across the world," toasted Vlad, sipping from his crystal glass.

"Thank you," blushed Lara. She politely sipped the rich wine, then drank again, longer, deeper. The glass was suddenly empty, Vlad held a dark green bottle, he re-filled Lara's glass to the brim.

"I am pleased you accepted my invitation to view the Liber Mortis, I believe that you are one of the few people on Earth who will fully appreciate its value, its...history."

"I am curious about why you requested for me to come specifically, why did you refuse to see the Museum's agents?"

"You are as famous as the Liber Mortis, my dear," smiled Vlad before he sipped from his half-empty glass. "This was the perfect opportunity to meet you."

Lara blushed even deeper and lowered her eyes. Lara's heart was pounding loudly in her ears, she felt out of breath, feverish beneath the Count's hypnotic gaze.

Vlad was standing right next to Lara, he brushed her left arm, he smelled musky, wild.

"Would you like to view the book now?"

"Yes..please," nodded Lara. She tossed back her glass, drinking the sweet wine to the dregs.

The Count took Lara's left hand, his touch was dry and cool as he led her to a tall window, where the Liber Mortis rested on a polished, carved stand made of black oak.

The thick window glass reflected the dancing flames of the huge fireplace, Lara looked down at the Liber Mortis, her skin flushed, her breasts trembling beneath her heavy sweater.

The Liber Mortis was bound in cracked leather, a screaming skull bulged from the tome's wide cover. Lara lowered her left palm and touched the skull's face, the leather was soft, like a child's smooth cheek.

"It..it feels soft, hardly aged" whispered Lara, conscious of the Count behind her, his body almost touching hers, his dark eyes upon her.

"It was bound with a baby's skin just as he emerged from his mother's loins," murmured Vlad into Lara's left ear.

Lara snatched her hand away as if she had touched hot iron. Vlad snapped his left hand around Lara's, quicker than the eye could see. The Count forced Lara's hand back onto the leather cover, he pressed her palm against the skull's gaping mouth.

"You said it felt soft, stroke it some more," purred Vlad, moving Lara's hand over the book's face.

Lara trembled against Vlad, she stared at the Liber Mortis, tears welling in her large, auburn eyes. She unwillingly caressed the tome's leather skin, it did feel soft beneath her fingers, it even began to feel warm, as if she caressed living flesh.

Vlad wrapped his right arm around Lara's slim waist, he hugged her close as he opened the book with Lara's hand held in his. The Count slowly flipped through the Liber Mortis's crackling pages, the text was written in dark scarlet, the strokes were elegant and sinuous, Lara felt drawn to the words, to the descriptions of gods who feasted on living flesh and fornicated with young virgins. The ancient deities molded men and women like clay, shaping them into grotesque parodies of their own twisted forms, the "Kiss of Chaos" was mentioned often. Lara wept openly as Vlad forced her to read about vile rituals, orgies that summoned demons, the sacrifices of young girls needed to bind a demon lord to service.

Lara was sobbing violently when Vlad finally closed the Liber Mortis. The skull upon the cover was no longer screaming, it was smiling with ecstasy.

"That..that was horrible!" shuddered Lara in Vlad's firm embrace.

"It was necessary to convince you that the Liber Mortis is genuine, I trust you are satisfied?"

Lara nodded sharply, she pushed on the Count's arm. Vlad released Lara, he inhaled her rich hair as she passed, it was perfumed with her sensual scent. Lara hugged herself and stood before the tall fire to warm her trembling flesh. Vlad walked to Lara's side, his eyes dancing, amused.

"Would you care for some dinner?"

"No! No, thank you," shuddered Lara, her arms tightening around her stomach.

Vlad lightly stroked Lara's thick french braid, she shivered, her pussy quivered and grew hot.

"I apologize for shocking you so violently. I have read the Liber Mortis many times, I forgot how..unnerving it can be for someone who has never studied its pages. Would you like to retire for the evening?"

"Yes, please, my lord."

"I will have one of the servants take you to your room. Good night, my dear, sleep well."

Vlad took Lara's trembling left hand and brushed the knuckles with his cool lips. Lara stared into the Count's dark eyes, she forgot to breathe, her thighs grew warm.

"Good night..my lord," murmured Lara breathlessly.

***

Lara tossed and turned beneath the black silk sheets of her canopied bed. She was sweating as if with fever, her lips gasped softly, her eyes rolled beneath their closed lids. Lara rolled onto her back, she flung the damp sheets away, she raised the hem of her nightshirt, her panties were drenched with her juices. The flushed young woman jerked down her soaked underwear, the fabric slipped easily across sweat-drenched thighs.

Lara saw two crimson eyes in her fevered dreams. Cold, pale hands caressed Lara's body, undressed her, cooled her hot skin. Chill, gray lips kissed Lara's throat, she moaned and bared her neck, her naked breasts shivered as the cold mouth moved across her shoulders, then between her large tits, kissing the drops of sweat that clung to her breasts, tasting her aching mammaries.

"You said it felt soft...," whispered Vlad in Lara's mind. Lara dreamed of the Liber Mortis, its horrible skull face leering at her, a black tongue snapping from its maw, flicking across her engorged nipples, painting her gasping lips with slime. The writhing tongue slipped down Lara's belly and stroked her hot cunt, Lara arched the back of her dream self, she felt glorious heat explode from her pussy, she panted raggedly, wanted the heat to burn between her legs forever.

The cold hands returned, cupped Lara's tits, dug sharp fingers into her pliant flesh. Lara threw her head back, her braid unraveled, brown, glistening tresses cascaded down her pale shoulders, framed her blushing face. Hanging in a black void, naked and writhing as pale white hands roved across her feverish body, Lara spread her long legs, honey poured from her pink, gaping cunt. Two chill fingers slipped into Lara's pussy, she closed her thighs around the plunging digits, she cupped her own swinging breasts while the cold digits pierced her, explored her.

A freezing wind blew over Lara's dripping tits. Lara's nipples turned blue, swollen, erect nubs transformed to ice. The chill wind slipped across Lara's shoulders, enfolded her throbbing neck. Ivory fingers dug into Lara's flowing, brown hair, her head was pulled back, the wind kissed the gleaming flesh of her throat.

Lara clutched the silk sheets when fangs drove into her dream self's throat, she arched her back painfully, her heels scrabbled across the large bed's mattress. Lara's sweat-soaked face rolled onto its side, she panted weakly, her feverish body limp as she felt cold lips upon her neck, drinking deeply from her veins, a cold hand squeezing her yielding right breast.

"It feels..soft," repeated Lara's voice, filled with wonder, and longing.

"It was bound with a baby's skin just as he emerged from his mother's loins," growled the voice of Vlad, his lips brushing against the back of Lara's neck, his arm tight around her stomach.

Lara moaned deeply, she caressed the tome's smooth cover, droplets of moisture fell upon the leather, the drops were quickly absorbed. Lara looked for the source of the droplets, it was her own pussy, swollen pink and puffy, soaked in stickiness, reeking of musk and semen.

"You are mine now, Laura, and I will have my revenge."

Lara snapped her auburn eyes open, the Count straddled her atop the canopied bed, his gray lips were still wet with her cunt juices. Lara could only watch wide-eyed as Vlad bit deep into her heaving, left breast. Lara moaned sharply, she buried her fingers in Vlad's thick, coarse, black mane. The Vampire Count pinned Lara to the mattress, he slurped loudly from her buxom, ripe breast, trickles of scarlet slid down Lara's clenching belly. Lara pressed her knees into Vlad's sides, she shuddered beneath him, she smiled dreamily as he drank from her warm, milky breast.

*****

Chapter Two

Lara pried open eyelids that seemed weighed down with iron. The naked young woman felt exhausted, she could barely shift beneath the light silk sheets, her left breast was numb. Lara's long, brown hair was fanned out upon the soft pillow beneath her head, she licked parched lips, then lowered the black silk from her breasts.

The blood that had drenched Lara's stomach was gone, her skin was pale white, almost bleached from loss of blood. Lara tentatively touched the place beneath her left breast where the Count had bitten her, the spot was tender, inflamed as if from infection. Tears slid from Lara's wide, auburn eyes, she crawled out of the canopied bed, shuffled naked across the chilly stone floor to the single arched window. The scene of the angel baring her throat to a vampire made Lara flinch, she reluctantly remembered the night before, how she had given herself to Vlad, relished the bite of his icy fangs into her fevered flesh. Lara wiped at her eyes and pushed open the stained glass window, the morning air was cold, it jolted Lara awake, cleared the fog from her mind.

The landscape around Castle Drakenhof was still as bleak as the night of her arrival. A black forest fenced in the castle to the north and west, the uneven road leading to the castle stretched out due west, to the south was desolation, patches of black weeds and bare, skeletal trees with thin limbs reaching futilely to the perpetually overcast gray sky.

Lara closed the window. Lara's toes were freezing, she crossed in front of the four-poster bed to reach the comfort of the crimson rug laid out between bed and door. Lara's suitcases had been moved next to the tall, varnished wardrobe. Lara went to the wardrobe and opened the paneled doors, her clothes were hanged, as well as several gowns that did not belong to her. Lara pointedly ignored the sleek dresses and reached for jeans, a green blouse, and a heavy knit sweater.

***

The castle corridors were quiet as Lara descended to the first floor. The bald servant who had closed the main doors behind Lara was crossing the carpeted foyer when he spotted Lara descending the spiral stair slowly, her pale right hand clutching the smooth stone rail.

"Do you desire breakfast, my lady?" whispered the hairless butler, his face sharp and gray, his small eyes two obsidian orbs.

"Yes, that would be wonderful," smiled Lara softly.

"Follow me to the master dining hall," bade the cadaverous butler.

Lara followed the painfully thin man. Dizziness made Lara swoon, she pressed a palm against a nearby mortared wall, the gray stones were cool beneath her fingertips.

The dining hall was another immense room, three long tables were set in the center of the chamber, two massive fireplaces would heat the hall, but both were cold as Lara entered with the butler. The bald man led Lara to the head of the center table, he held out a high-backed chair to the right of the Count's plush seat.

"Will the Count and Countess be joining me for breakfast?" inquired Lara.

"I'm afraid not, my lady," bowed the butler apologetically. "My Lord and Lady prefer to sleep late into the day."

Lara nodded and waited patiently. The butler returned with a gold tray laden with a pitcher of steaming coffee, a mug, and small ceramic pots filled with sugar, milk, honey, and cream. The servant set the tray upon the table and left to retrieve Lara's breakfast, Lara poured a full mug of coffee and drank it black, the warmth of the beverage revived Lara, she tossed back the mug, then quickly re-filled it.

The servant laid out a enormous breakfast. There was golden eggs and toast with butter and berry jam for spreading. There was sizzling sausage links and slabs of pink ham, sugar-drenched pastry rolls and baskets of tart fruit. Lara ate like a starving woman, she devoured everything in sight, her strength returned, her breast didn't ache as much.

When Lara was done, the butler carried the empty dishes away. Lara sipped more coffee laced with honey, she leaned back into her soft chair, her belly pleasantly warm, the dizziness that plagued her all morning was gone. Lara's eyes began to sag despite the coffee, when the butler returned and suggested a nap, Lara agreed and followed the thin servant back to her bedroom, where she slipped beneath fresh sheets and fell instantly asleep.

***

A wolf's howl awoke Lara. She sat up in bed, night had fallen, the stained glass window was dark. Beeswax candles had been lit as Lara slept, her bedroom smelled sweet, Lara smiled and shrugged away the gleaming sheets.

Isabella was waiting at the foyer's tall doors. The striking young woman was dressed in black riding clothes, her boots gleamed in the candlelight, her black mane was glossy upon her slender shoulders.

The Countess tapped a riding crop against her right thigh as she smiled at Lara. "Would you care for a midnight ride?"

"Alright," nodded Lara.

Isabella threw open the iron-bound doors. Cold air blasted into the foyer, sending the candle flames dancing.

Lara hugged herself. "Maybe I should get my coat."

"You'll get warmed up after we start riding," smiled Isabella, marching out the gaping portals.

Lara hurried after the lithe Countess. Isabella strode to the castle's stables, a squat, ugly barracks with golden light glimmering from its square windows. Lara followed Isabella inside, she smelled the aromas of hay and horse. Two horses were already saddled and waiting, a sullen stable boy held the steeds' traces. Isabella mounted a powerful black charger, the short, brown stable boy handed Lara the reins to a wide-chested white and gray stallion. Lara thanked the boy and jumped into the saddle. The harness was beautiful, made of rich black leather with silver scrollwork.

Isabella flicked her reins and walked the charger out into the courtyard. Lara gently tapped the stallion with her heels, the horse clopped forward, tossing his ivory mane. When Lara emerged from the stable, Isabella slapped down her riding crop, the charger thundered through the open portcullis, its pounding hooves crashed upon the lowered drawbridge. Lara heeled her mount harder, the stallion raced through the portcullis and flew across the wide moat. Lara leaned into the thundering stallion's dipping neck, the sweat of his exertion filled her nostrils, his body shifted beneath her, powerful muscles flexing. Lara smiled and raced after the Countess. Isabella followed the road for a few miles, then turned right, disappearing into the dark forest. Lara frowned and slowed her mount, the stallion reluctantly obeyed. When Lara reached the edge of the woods, she discovered a crude trail, just wide enough for her and the snorting stallion. Lara prodded her horse forward, the gray and ivory beast lunged into a trot, black limbs hissed past, Lara clung to the stallion's musky mane of ivory hair.

Lara rode through the forest for miles, she never caught up to the racing Countess. The stallion beneath Lara started to slow, he breathed raggedly, his coat was slick with perspiration. Lara let her mount shift to a walk, she stroked his damp mane, eyeing the tall, black trees around her distrustfully.

Wolves sang to the full moon, their cries echoed eerily through the thick trees. The stallion trembled beneath Lara, he picked up his pace as his strength returned. Lara gave the stallion his head, she flicked her eyes from side to side, her heart racing.

Glowing red eyes flashing in the bushes was the only warning before the wolf pack struck. The stallion screamed and jumped up onto his hind legs, forehooves slashing at the snarling wolves. Lara was thrown from the stallion's wide back, she smashed into the hard ground. Lara punched a snapping wolf in the snout, she rolled to her feet, arms raised defensively.

Six wolves clung to the jumping and kicking stallion. Blood poured down the horse's body from a score of deep bites, inevitably, the steed stumbled and fell, instantly covered in coarse, blood-soaked wolf fur.

Lara dove into the deep woods. She jumped over dead trunks and allowed low-hanging branches to slap across her face, she never stopped running, her breasts bobbed beneath her sweater, her braid flicked from shoulder to shoulder.

A single wolf's howl broke the forest's silence, it was the loudest, most blood-chilling sound Lara had ever heard in her life. Lara sprinted faster through the narrow trees, dead leaves crunched beneath her boot soles, panting breath misted from Lara's shivering lips. As Lara ran, she could hear something loping after her, branches snapped, deep panting sounds grew louder and louder. Brushing past a rough-barked tree, Lara glanced over her shoulder, she almost screamed when she saw the massive wolf, a beast almost as large as her dead stallion, coated with ebony fur. The Doom Wolf's eyes were burning crimson orbs, his tongue lolled out the side of his long black muzzle as he pursued Lara, powerful chest working, wide paws digging into the dark earth.

Lara sprinted even though her legs burned and her chest felt like exploding. Sweat poured from Lara's terrified face, her arms pumped, she dodged and weaved through the endless trees. Lara stole another look at her pursuer, the Doom Wolf now ran on two legs, his shoulders were corded with thick muscle, his erection was long and swayed between his burly, fur-clad legs. The wolf-thing's eyes nearly made Lara stumble and fall, they were the Count's sparkling eyes, they trapped her, seduced her to stop fleeing her fate.

A gnarled, black limb caught Lara's right ankle. Lara screamed as she crashed to the leaf-strewn ground, her elbows and knees sinking into the rich, moist earth.

The Count was on top of her, slavering fangs ripped Lara's sweater to shreds, sharp claws dug across her jeans, biting into soft flesh. Lara was sobbing and beating at the Wolf-Vlad with her fists while he scratched her shaking breasts and stomach, drawing scarlet lines across her body. Clammy saliva splattered across Lara's weeping face and tits, the Count dropped on top of her, pinning her to the ground. As he licked Lara's neck and bare shoulders with a long, slick, pink tongue, Wolf-Vlad yanked open Lara's long, scratched legs. The Count stabbed his long, swollen wolf-cock into Lara's cunt, she dug her nails into Vlad's furry chest, she arched her back violently as he impaled her deeper, nestling his heavy member inside her.

Licking Lara's gasping lips, Wolf-Vlad raked his claws down her slender thighs, thrusting roughly into her yielding pussy. He held the moaning young woman's legs apart by her knees, he slammed into her over and over, spearing into her clenched, bleeding belly.

Pulling out of Lara's hole, the Count rolled Lara onto her hands and knees. Lara clutched the rough bark of a nearby tree, the coarse wood bit into her palms as the wolf-vampire penetrated her again, his furry crotch grinding into her trembling buttocks. Vlad drooled from his long muzzle, spittle splashed across Lara's bare back. He grasped Lara's thick braid of dark hair and tugged on it as Lara would tug on her stallion's reins. Lara's outstretched body bucked back and forth, she clung to the tree in front of her, gasping violently, her heavy breasts swaying beneath her as the Wolf-Vlad stabbed into her slick ass repeatedly.

The Count flopped down onto the ground, he clawed Lara's curvaceous hips and pulled her onto his furry lap. Lara fell back against the wolf-thing's muscled chest, she let her head fall back when he reached beneath her arms to claw and squeeze her sweat-soaked tits. The Wolf-Vlad bounced Lara on his lap, his tall erection buried in her oozing cunt. Lara's long, deeply scratched legs were spread wide apart, resting on the Count's black-furred thighs. Lara bobbed on top of the Count's flexing pelvis, she was limp against him, her cheek rested on his fur-clad shoulder, the rich musk of his wolfish form filled her nostrils.

The Wolf-Vlad gave Lara's bared neck a long, wet lick, then he buried his long fangs in her throat, growling hungrily as he lapped the dark blood gushing from her torn neck. Lara moaned weakly, she clutched the wolf-thing's hairy thighs, her legs twitched, then relaxed when she orgasmed, her pussy tightening around the wolf's hard prick as he geysered hot cum into her gleaming belly.

The Count took his time feeding upon Lara's open throat, he cupped and fondled her soft, pliant breasts as he drank, his cock comfortably nestled in the limp, young woman's snug vagina.

*****

Chapter Three

Heavy droplets splashed over Lara's upturned face. The prone young woman blinked her eyes open, she felt incredibly cold, her naked body was corpse blue, her blood, what remained of it, ran sluggishly in her veins. Lara tried to sit up, her muscles were jelly.

There was a sharp snort to Lara's left. The naked woman summoned enough strength to turn her head, Isabella was astride her black charger, her smile was cruel, her dark eyes glittered. The Countess looked to the east and frowned, the trees were becoming outlined in azure, dawn would soon arrive.

Isabella slipped from her ornate saddle and knelt next to Lara. She placed a cold, open palm over Lara's gaping neck wound, she narrowed her eyes and murmured, green light surrounded the vampiress's hand. When the wound was sealed, Isabella hefted Lara easily and carried the naked woman to the waiting charger. Isabella slung Lara over the worked leather saddle as if she was a bag of flour, the Countess jumped into the saddle behind Lara and lashed the ebony steed forward with her riding crop.

Lara bounced on her stomach, bare arms and legs dangling over the grunting horse's flexing flanks. The large charger's iron-shod hooves ripped into the soft, black earth, the impact of his racing steps roared like thunder in Lara's ears.

The laden charger exploded from the black forest. It lurched to the left and flew onto the crude road leading back to Drakenhof Castle. Isabella cracked her leather crop over the charger's muscled rump again and again, she leaned close to Lara, so close Lara could feel the soft pressure of the Countess's breasts upon her bare back. The ground beneath the shredding hooves began to shift from black to brown, small rocks were visible now, illuminated by the rising sun.

The charger thundered across the rotting drawbridge. Isabella raced the steed to the very doors of Drakenhof, she didn't wait for the horse to come to a complete stop, she gathered Lara in her slim, ivory arms and jumped from the saddle, she landed lightly upon the castle's steps and sprinted to the high, arched doors. The massive portals swung open, Isabella ran inside, just as the first golden rays of dawn crested Drakenhof's crumbling outer wall.

***

Isabella laid out Lara upon the soft, silk-clad mattress. Lara closed her eyes as Isabella combed pale fingers through her dark brown hair, the Countess's other hand resting between Lara's breasts, slipping back and forth within Lara's cleavage.

"Rest, Lara Croft," smiled Isabella. The raven-haired woman leaned down and kissed Lara's parted lips, Lara held her eyes shut and whimpered while Isabella tongued her slowly, languidly.

***

Lara awoke to the smell of hot soup. A servant girl stood to Lara's right, a steaming bowl rested on a bedside table. Lara watched the servant girl as the child reached for the soup tray, the girl was about thirteen, with long, ebony hair that fell to her little waist. She dressed in coarse peasant wool, a heavy blouse and long skirts. A bright green scarf held back the girl's black tresses. Noticing how weak Lara was, the peasant girl left the tray and helped Lara sit up upon a pile of thick pillows. Sitting comfortably, Lara allowed the servant to place the golden tray upon her lap, the soup smelled wonderful. Besides the soup, there was hot, black bread, butter, and sliced apple. A gold cup was filled with hot, spiced wine. Lara began spooning the delicious soup, she spilled some over her chin twice, the servant girl took Lara's spoon and fed the blushing young woman.

The peasant girl refused to meet Lara's eyes or to speak. When the entire meal was consumed, the servant girl picked up the tray and quietly left the bedchamber.

Sitting beneath the black silk sheets and several additional heavy quilts, Lara noticed two iron braziers set in the far corners of the bedchamber. The supports for the braziers were worked to appear as long, coiling serpents entwined around helpless women. The braziers gave the large, stone bedchamber much needed warmth, Lara snuggled beneath her covers, her large, auburn eyes grew drowsy, she sighed and fell deeply asleep.

Lara spent several days recovering in bed. The peasant girl came twice a day to feed Lara, she never spoke a word. Slowly, strength returned to Lara, her limbs were no longer heavy, ungainly weights, her skin lost its bleached white appearance, it was warm and golden again. The bite marks beneath Lara's left breast were almost completely gone, the ragged tear in her neck was tender, but the scar was slender and smoothing.

The Count and Countess never visited Lara. Lara was eager to regain her strength completely and leave the dark castle, she didn't care if the Liber Mortis came with her or not.

One late morning Lara climbed out of bed on wobbling legs. She was half-way to the stained glass window when the door to her bedchamber squeaked open, the peasant girl came in with her usual loaded tray. The dusky girl's eyes widened when she saw Lara walking about, she set the lunch tray upon the bedside table, then walked quickly from the room.

Lara was sitting on the bed chewing bread when the Countess slipped into the chamber. She wore a heavy black cloak with the hood drawn up, nothing of her face was visible as she stared at Lara, motioning sharply for the servant girl to draw the window drapes shut. The small girl rushed to obey her mistress, she yanked the thick, velvet drapes closed, the bedchamber plunged into darkness except for the smoldering braziers.

Isabella pulled back her hood as the servant girl lit candles around the chamber. The pale Countess smiled and nodded in satisfaction.

"You have recovered nicely, Lara Croft," observed Isabella.

"Yes, thank you for allowing me to stay here so long. I'll be leaving as soon as you can summon a carriage for me."

"So soon? You still look a little pale, perhaps you should stay a few more days, perhaps a week. My lord husband wishes to see you once you are fully recovered, he wishes to continue your evaluation of the Liber Mortis."

"Tell him that I'm convinced the Liber Mortis is genuine. If he wishes to sell the book to the British Museum I'll be happy to convey his terms, but I've imposed upon your hospitality enough, I really should return to England before the Museum begins to worry."

"I see," smiled Isabella wryly. "I will tell my lord husband what you have said, I am sure we can have a carriage for you by tomorrow afternoon."

"Thank you, Countess," replied Lara with a relieved smile.

"I will let you rest for your journey," said the graceful Countess, spinning on one heel and slipping through the bedroom door, closing the thick oak portal behind her.

Alone in the candle-lit chamber, Lara rose from the bed and pulled open the black velvet drapes. She left the drapes open for the rest of the day, until the stained glass darkened with approaching night.

***

Lara regretfully stood up from the steaming marble pool, water cascading from her nude body. The peasant girl, her eyelids heavy, shuffled to the gleaming ivory steps leading down into the bathing pool inset with the floor. Lara combed a hand through her long, dark brown hair and accepted a fluffy white towel from the servant girl, she dried herself while the peasant retrieved a crimson silk bathrobe. Lara handed the girl the damp towel and slipped her shoulders into the sleek robe. Lara tied the robe shut as she walked from the bathing chamber, feeling more alive than she had in days.

Lara climbed a winding stone stair to the foyer of the castle. The grave, bald butler stood to the right of the closed and bolted double doors, like a sentry made of gray stone, a gargoyle with glittering black eyes. Lara clasped her right hand upon the collar of her robe, holding the thin garment shut, uncomfortably aware of how the silk clung to her damp flesh, molding to her every sensual curve. Lara quickly climbed up the spiral stairwell, she gratefully reached her bedroom and closed the iron-bound oak behind her, she bolted the portal for good measure.

"You look positively radiant, my dear Lara," smiled Isabella, approaching the stunned young woman and offering her a glass of dark wine.

Reflexively, Lara accepted the glass and sipped politely, Isabella backed away to the foot of the bed, she enfolded one of the gnarled bedposts with her left hand.

"A coach will take you to the train station after lunch tomorrow, is that satisfactory?"

"Yes, thank you, Countess," nodded Lara, her back resting against the bolted door.

"My lord husband was sorry to hear that you will be leaving. He wrote a letter to the Museum for you to convey, he has accepted their offer for the Liber Mortis."

"Very good," smiled Lara hesitantly.

Isabella withdrew a sealed scroll from the wide pocket of her heavy, scarlet robe. She offered the rolled parchment to Lara, her right hand raising her glass to moist, pink lips. Lara carefully crossed the candle-lit chamber, the scent of beeswax was thick within the room. Taking the offered scroll, Lara briefly met Isabella's dark stare, the bedchamber tilted, Lara swooned on her slippered feet.

Scroll and wine glass were gone, Lara found herself lying on her back, silk robe open, skin flushed as Isabella sat near her left hip, cool, alabaster fingers raking over her shivering breasts and tight stomach.

"Don't..don't do that," gasped Lara, grabbing Isabella's thin wrist.

Isabella bored into Lara's wide eyes again, Lara grew dizzy, her vision blurred.

When Lara blinked, the silk bathrobe was gone, she was outstretched naked upon the large, canopied bed, the Countess knelt at her feet, the heavy robe slipped down from graceful, pale shoulders. Isabella's sultry eyes burned like twin pyres, Lara opened her long legs, her pussy was gleaming, sweet droplets beaded upon the tip of her pink clit.

Isabella purred and crawled forward on hands and knees, she dipped her head to lick inside Lara's legs, her long, unbound ebony tresses caressed Lara's smooth skin. Lara sighed from the soft touch of Isabella's tongue, she rested on her elbows, her large, round, dark brown nipples stood erect, they ached for the Countess to suck upon them. Isabella held Lara in her hot gaze, she never looked away from the blushing young woman while she kissed the trembling flesh of Lara's inner thighs. Lara moaned when Isabella's black nails dragged across her belly, she looked down as the Countess licked her open cunt, savoring the nectar already dripping from her musk-scented sex. Watching Lara's flushed, panting face, Isabella buried her mouth in Lara's pussy, nose pressed into Lara's silky, brown bush. Lara clutched the sleek sheets beneath her open palms, her knees trembled as the Countess sucked on her cunt, nibbled on her swollen clitoris. Lara gently bucked against Isabella's lovely face, she moaned deeply, her thighs shaking as Isabella slurped inside her pink cunt, tongue lapping the vaginal juices flowing faster and faster from Lara's musky hole.

The Countess rested her open palms next to Lara's, she moved up Lara's bare torso, kissing, licking, tasting Lara's sweet skin. Isabella kissed the tiny marks where Vlad had bitten Lara beneath her left breast, Lara moaned with pleasure, her knees dug into Isabella's thighs. The pale-white Countess gently kissed each of Lara's engorged nipples, she licked between the panting young woman's heavy tits, then devoured Lara's mouth, her wet lips working as she tongued Lara wantonly.

Lara fell back onto the pillow. Isabella held Lara's wrists above her head, kissing Lara ravenously, desperately. Lara gasped when the Countess finally broke their embrace, she whimpered blissfully as Isabella kissed her throat and neck. Two cold pins pierced Lara between neck and left shoulder. Isabella squeezed Lara's right breast while she slurped upon Lara's neck, lips locked on Lara's warm skin, tongue writhing as hot, sweet blood poured into her mouth. Lara shivered beneath Isabella, she dug her fingers into the ivory woman's soft, black hair. Isabella's right palm cupped Lara's left buttock, she fondled the firm cheek while she drank, crimson lips slurping, rivulets of blood sliding down Lara's shoulder and around her shuddering left tit. Lara's slack face turned away from the drinking Countess, she moaned weakly, her thighs opened, her hands dropped from Isabella's dark mane.

Isabella held the limp Lara in an unbreakable embrace, she fed for a long time, Lara's sweet blood staining her delicate lips, the young woman's body pliant and warm beneath her.

*****

Chapter Four

Images blurred within Lara Croft's mind. She felt hands raise her from the soft mattress, her head lolled back, her dark brown hair brushed across the crimson carpeting as she was carried from the candle-lit bedchamber. The outside corridor was freezing, Lara shivered in the strong arms of her captor. Flickering flames danced before Lara's glazed eyes, tendrils of chill air teased her stiff nipples, stroked her closed, bare thighs.

Lara's head bobbed as she was carried up a wide, winding stair carpeted in scarlet and gold, angels flew around her, bearing golden flames upon their arched backs. A tall, arched door squealed open, musk filled Lara's nostrils, wolfish and overpowering.

"I have brought her, my lord husband," whispered Isabella, offering Lara to the Count like a lamb to the chef.

"Place her upon the bed, my love," growled Vlad, who stood before a roaring fire, his tall, muscled, naked body framed by the crackling flames.

Isabella obeyed her husband, she draped Lara's slender, nude body over the scarlet sheets of the Count's canopied bed. Lara clung to the sleek, red silk, her auburn eyes rolled, sweat broke out over her beautiful face. The bite marks upon Lara's neck were red and inflamed, dark blood welled from the puncture holes, fever burned in Lara's veins.

Isabella stood at the foot of the enormous bed, holding a bed pole shaped like a coiling serpent with both of her ivory hands. She watched her husband stalk towards the draped bed, throw aside the folds of black velvet, and climb onto the feather mattress with the naked, flushed, young woman.

"I have played with you enough, Lara Croft," snarled Vlad, squeezing Lara's right breast, digging his black nails into her yielding flesh until she moaned in pain. "Tonight I take my final revenge upon you, tonight you die."

Vlad knelt next to Lara's right shoulder, he tilted her limp head towards his hairy crotch, he slid the swollen head of his cock across Lara's soft lips. Burying his left hand in Lara's damp hair, Vlad pushed his prick into Lara's mouth. Lara narrowed her unfocused eyes and moaned weakly, she sucked lightly on the Count's shaft, her nose brushing against Vlad's dark pubic hair.

Isabella purred and climbed onto her husband's bed. She pulled open Lara's slim legs, she licked the creamy skin of Lara's taut thighs. Kissing Lara's inner left thigh, Isabella bared her fangs and bit deep into Lara's flesh, drinking intently from the naked woman's open thigh vein.

Lara groaned around the thick cock buried inside her mouth, she looked up into the Count's burning eyes, there was no pity in the grunting man's stare, only lust drove him. Vlad caressed Lara's dripping cheek as he thrust between her lips. The caressing hand slid to Lara's sweat-soaked breasts, he tugged and pinched the soft mounds, yanked on Lara's blood-swollen nipples.

Lara's left leg was going numb from loss of blood. She panted raggedly as she watched the Count withdraw his drool-soaked cock and lower his pale face to her heaving right breast. Vlad licked her stiff brown nipple repeatedly, drenching her tit in his clammy saliva. Lara's eyes grew wide and she gasped when the Count filled his mouth with her nipple and breast, fangs impaling her tit, white cheeks tightening as he slurped the sweet blood from her punctured breast.

Lara slid her fingers through Vlad's coarse, black mane while he sucked loudly upon her tit, she arched her back slowly, her mouth gaped, a choked moan escaped her clenched throat.

Lara twitched feebly and groaned while the vampires fed upon her, their lips cold as cadavers, their tongues writhing serpents bathing in the streams of Lara's out-pouring blood.

Isabella released Lara's motionless thigh, she licked scarlet from her sensual lips, her once white skin was pink with warmth. Vlad drained Lara to the very dregs, when he was done Lara's naked body was ice-blue, she had stopped breathing, her large eyes were vacant, they stared up at the black velvet canopy of the Count's bed.

Vlad stroked Lara's melon-sized breasts one last time, then raked his nails across the dead woman's blue stomach.

"It is done. Call a servant to get rid of this."

***

The bald butler carried Lara's cold body away from Drakenhof. He shuffled to the edge of the dark wood, he slid Lara's corpse onto the dead leaves near a slender, black oak. The butler straightened and brushed his fingers together, the wolves would dine well this evening.

The black-coated servant made his way back to Drakenhof, Lara lay upon her back, arms resting above her head, legs crossed and blue-white. The cold blood welling from the bite marks upon Lara's thigh and breast congealed and blackened, Lara's white-fogged eyes looked up through the swaying, skeletal branches, watched the black sky turn to dark azure. A breeze ruffled the bed of leaves around Lara, her loose, brown hair ruffled around her still face. A slender, golden ring gleamed within Lara's right ear, it reflected the growing light of the rising dawn.

***

Laura Krauftmann clawed out of the dank moat surrounding Drakenhof Castle. She crawled to the dark wood, even as the castle's drawbridge crashed to the ground and the wide, iron-bound gates swung open. Laura buried herself in dead leaves, her broken body in agony, her legs twisted from the long fall into the moat. She panted for breath, she watched as the Count thundered down the road, followed by his retainers and standard bearer. Wolves howled and poured from the woods, following their dark lord to the northwest, where Vlad Von Carstein would join reinforcements marching to break Altdorf once and for all.

Wheezing, sweating from the exertion of her crawl, Laura fumbled with the small pouch that held the Carstein Ring. Laura slipped the simple gold band onto her right hand, the Ring molded to her finger, the gold was warm upon her skin. Exhaustion and pain dragged Laura into oblivion, she lay outstretched beneath the damp leaves while the magic of the Carstein Ring healed her broken body, stealing her from Death's hungry jaws.

The End