Natla's Revenge

Lara woke in the dim blue light of the Eitr, feeling woozy from hunger and torture. How long had she been a prisoner underneath her own home? Judging from the way and time her stomach had stopped growling for food, it had been at least two days. Maybe three. She had gotten used to the chill from the wind coming off the flowing Eitr surrounding her after the first few hours she’d spent chained to this wretched table in nothing but her bra and panties.

Soft footsteps approached her, and then the dungeon door was pushed back. She caught a glint of silvery hair in the darkness and woke up completely.

“Ohk eshivar,” she said weakly. It hadn’t worked the other thirty times she’d tried it, but maybe this time would be different. “Ohk eshivar, untie me and help me get back to the basement.”

The tall, slender blonde laughed and walked towards her. “Persistent,” she said. Her accent was American, like Amanda’s, but her actual voice was so much darker than Lara’s old friend. “As you’ve already been told twenty-two times, Natla ordered me to take orders from no one but her, regardless of whether they used that word. I’m only here to bring you water, as I was told.”

She held a bottle of water to Lara’s lips, and the heiress gulped half the bottle down before stopping for breath. Not-Amanda laughed, though it wasn’t completely cruel. “I suppose I would get thirsty staring at this much water, too.”

“Water water everywhere, but not a drop to drink,” Lara answered wryly. “Are you going to keep me here until I starve to death?”

“That is not my decision.” The doppelgänger poured the rest of the bottle of cold water over Lara’s panties, washing away the inevitable urine that resulted from leaving someone tied up and unattended to for more than a few hours. Lara shivered.

“Why did Natla create you? Why not a clone of herself? Or another clone of me?”

The woman paused for a moment, thinking. “I think I can tell you she only had Amanda’s genetic material available when she created me to care for her.”

Lara fell silent, pondering that. The doppelgänger suddenly stepped back from her, and Jacqueline Natla entered the room. Lara flinched involuntarily, remembering the torture the demi-goddess had already inflicted on her. Natla smirked at her expression.

“Hello again, Lara,” she said, rubbing the adventuress’s naked calf. “I see you remember the fun we had yesterday.”

“Why am I here?” Lara demanded.

“You ruined my plan.” Natla scowled at her. "You threw me into the Eitr rather than simply dying quietly like you were supposed to."

“Well, that’s your own bloody fault for wasting so much time evilly monologuing rather than killing me yourself,” Lara said crossly. “You could’ve at least watched to make certain your creature killed me. Not that I’m not grateful for the slip-up, but breaking into my home, drugging my tea, and then tying me up and torturing me because of your own mistake seems rather unsporting.”

“You have such pretty feet, Lara.” Natla massaged her left foot gently. It felt surprisingly good; her strong fingers kneaded deep into the muscles, nearly making Lara moan in appreciation. “Come here and hold her leg for me.” Amanda’s doppelgänger obediently grabbed Lara’s knee, and Natla released her left ankle from its bond. In its place, she tied a tourniquet tightly enough that Lara could feel it cutting off circulation. “What all do you do with your feet? You climb, I know. You run. You fight. Do you ever have a special someone tickle your feet? Hm?” Natla donned thick-looking gloves and produced a goblet. “Do you ever wear sexy high heels or walk along the beach barefooted, Lara?”

Lara watched her with some confusion. Natla walked over to the small moat of Eitr and scooped a small amount into the goblet. “Do you like having feet, Lara?” Natla asked, then, without giving her a chance to respond, she poured the Eitr onto Lara’s bare foot.

The heiress screamed in pain; it was like acid burning her flesh. “Hold her foot up,” Natla ordered. Amanda’s clone raised Lara’s leg, and Natla set her goblet down and went around behind Lara so she could force her head to look in the direction of her foot. Even in the dim light, she could see that the venom was eating away the skin and muscle at a rapid pace, leaving her bones exposed. If Lara had eaten in the past two or three days, she would certainly have vomited at the sight. As it was, she simply became dizzy and blacked out, her muscles going limp from the unrivaled pain and shock and horror.

Natla laughed, and it sounded terribly far away to Lara’s ears. “It looks as if our indomitable heroine has fainted,” she murmured. “Yes, it’s horrifying to watch the Eitr eat away at your skin, isn’t it, you bitch?” She slapped Lara hard across the face, and the brunette groaned and blinked. “Wake up.”

Once Lara’s eyes were opened, Natla poured more Eitr over the rest of her foot, completely dousing it in the poison. The pain was so unbearable Lara couldn’t even breathe, much less scream. Again Natla and Amanda’s doppelgänger forced her to watch as the flesh was stripped from her bones, but this time she didn’t black out. Instead she lay there quietly, certain this was actually happening to someone else, especially once the nerves in her foot were destroyed and could no longer feel the pain except for a dull ache in her bones.

“What do you think?” Natla said, admiring her work by way of running her gloved fingers over the bones. Lara’s body jerked in shock at the sensation; her bones could still feel things, and they were incredibly sensitive now that they were exposed directly to air and touch. “I rather like it, don’t you? The symbolism of it all… such a powerful, athletic woman, crippled by such a small body part… and such a small dose of poison. It’s almost sad to think that you’ll never be able to climb or run again.” Natla laughed. “Almost. Anyways, what do you think, Doppelgänger? Would a sprinkle of Eitr on her face kill her, or should I destroy her limbs first? I want her to get the full experience.”

Lara began to panic. “You filthy Atlantean whore! By my father’s grave, I swear if you touch my face—“

“Now, now, Lara,” Natla chided her. “That’s no way to speak to me if you want to be released.”

“Released?”

“Yes, I think it would be quite funny to release you back into your life with your foot in this condition. Don’t you? The killing will come later, after you’ve had a few years to walk around on your thrall foot.”

Lara opened her mouth to retort that she’d rather die than walk around with the bones in her foot exposed like this, but that was a lie. She didn’t want to die. Not now, not in a couple of years.

“If you’d rather die than live with the shame, I can always kill you this time. It would be less fun, but splashing Eitr on your pretty little face would nearly make up for that. What do you say?”

“I don’t want to die,” Lara answered.

“Then beg me to let you live,” Natla said smugly. “Prove to me that I should let you go.”

Thinking several swear words in her direction, Lara sighed. “Please don’t kill me. I’m begging you to let me live.”

“Good. Doppelgänger, put her on her knees in front of me.” Lara found herself on her knees, her hands bound behind her back. “If you’re serious about wanting to live, worship my feet.”

Lara gave her an outraged glare. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, but I’m perfectly serious,” Natla said. “Kiss them.”

Lara reluctantly kissed the tops of her feet, forcing herself not to think about the fact that her feet would never look perfect and sexy like Natla’s again. Her hands still cuffed behind her back, she kissed all over the blond goddess’s insteps and ankles and toes. After a few moments, Natla raised one foot a few inches off the ground.

“Lick the sole,” she ordered. Fuming and humiliated, Lara licked the thin layer of dirt off the bottom of her foot. When Natla was satisfied, she set her foot down and raised the other for Lara to repeat the process. “Good girl,” she said at last, rubbing her foot over the back of Lara’s bowed head. “Now, would you like your right leg dipped in Eitr, or your right arm?”

“What?” Lara looked up at her, feeling betrayed and also incredibly stupid for not seeing that coming.

“I’m giving you a choice. You didn’t think I was going to let you get off that easily, did you, after everything you did to me? No, you have a little more suffering to do before you can go live the last few years of your pathetic life. Now, what will it be? The sooner you choose, the sooner I’ll take you back to your home.”

Swallowing tears and nasty insults, Lara said, “My right leg.”

“Yes? What about it?” Natla prodded her. The smug condescension in her tone made Lara want to scream.

Her nostrils flared as she tried desperately to keep the tears from spilling. “You can… you can dip my right leg in the Eitr.” It would be horrific either way, but at least she could hide her ruined legs in boots and trousers. Her arm would be impossible to hide, and besides, she was slightly more right-handed, so cutting things would be unbelievably hard without her right hand.

“If that’s what you want, then I’ll be happy to oblige.” Natla stabbed a needle into her right shoulder blade, making Lara flinch.

“What is that?” Lara asked, worrying a little as her muscles began to go limp again. Natla pushed her gently onto her stomach on the stone floor and removed the handcuffs.

“A paralytic agent. One which will freeze everything but your heart and breathing. I wouldn’t want you to accidentally die from struggling while near the Eitr.” She took the tourniquet from Lara’s ankle and wrapped it so tightly above her right elbow that it hurt.

“No, no, not my arm,” Lara begged, her speech beginning to sound slurred. “Please, not my arm. You said I could choose… I said my leg…”

“Sorry, I changed my mind about letting you choose,” Natla said, giving her a wicked smile. “Doppelgänger, carry her to the edge, and take care not to drop her.”

The clone did as she was told, Lara still pleading all the while. Natla took her limp arm and lowered it into the Eitr. Lara screamed loudly, nearly passing out again. She lost control of her bladder, whether from the pain or paralyzing drug or both, she didn’t know or care. Tears dripped from her eyes onto her left arm and the floor.

“How do you like that, Lara?” Natla asked bitterly. “Can you imagine having that done to your entire body? Can you imagine your face and neck and wings being forced into this? Can you imagine being trapped in this for hours, breathing it in and trying to think of a way to get out?”

Lara could do nothing but lie there and shriek and hope desperately to pass out from the pain. It became progressively harder even to scream, and soon she simply lay there, her arm lying helplessly in the Eitr and her screams ringing only inside her mind. Natla knelt next to her and closed her eyes, and Lara found that she couldn’t open them back up.

Someone dragged her away from the edge of the pool, and the tourniquet was removed from her elbow.

“Open that coffin for me,” Natla said, making Lara’s heart race even faster. “We’ll return her to her friends in it. Don’t you think that’s fitting? Put her in it and then carry her back up to Croft Manor. I’ll meet you at our other location when you’ve finished.”

She was set inside a thinly lined coffin and the lid was put over her. The coffin was lifted, and her right ‘arm’ hit the wooden side hard; Lara did manage to pass out at that point. When she came to again, she was still in the coffin, but she had apparently been set down somewhere. The doorbell inside her home rang, and from the loudness of it she guessed she was just inside the great hall.

“What’s this?” She heard Zip’s voice after a moment. The top of the coffin was shoved off and fell loudly to the side, and warm light filtered in through her eyelids. “Holy shit! Winston! Winston come quick! It’s Lara, I think she’s dead!” There was running from somewhere else, probably the kitchen, and then the light dimmed over her.

“Heavens,” her butler whispered. Lara felt his soft, wrinkled hands on her neck. “She’s still alive. Quickly, carry her to her bed. I’ll call the doctor.”

“What if she’s contagious?” Zip demanded. “I mean, look at her arm! And her foot! I don’t want to touch her.” Tears pricked Lara’s eyes, and without the ability to control her muscles, they quickly spilled over onto her cheeks and ran down to her neck and ears.

“Hush!” Winston said sharply. “I’m fairly certain she’s awake and can hear you.”

“What?! How can you tell?”

“Her pulse, for one thing. It feels like she just won a marathon. For another, look at her face.”

“Aw, hell.” Zip’s large hand wiped the tears from her cheeks, then two of his fingers gently wiped the rest from her eyes. “Sorry, Lara. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“You can ask her forgiveness when she regains control of her body again,” Winston said. “Carry her to her bedroom, if you please. I’ll go put some towels down for her.”

“Why?” Zip hoisted her into his arms, and her head flopped back helplessly. Her tongue, in its relaxed state, slid back until it was occluding her airway most of the way.

“Support her head so she can breathe,” Winston ordered, correcting Lara’s position. Her lungs instinctively gasped, sucking in precious oxygen. “And if you noticed before you picked her up, she’s not able to control her bladder at present, it seems.”

“Ohhh,” Zip said. “Right.”

Lara wondered if her cheeks were burning with humiliation yet, or if the paralytic agent suppressed that as well. Zip laid her on her bed, her wonderful soft bed, and Winston’s hands were immediately tending to her. The worn, stained undergarments came off, and not a second later a silky, oversized pyjama top was being pulled over her good arm and the shoulder of her bad arm. He buttoned the top three of four buttons to preserve her modesty, then gingerly laid her bony right arm over her stomach, free of any clothing. The covers were pulled up to just below her arm, and the bottom was pulled back away from her left foot.

She didn’t hear Zip anymore, so she assumed he had left. Winston dabbed at her face and neck with a warm, wet cloth, cleansing away the blood and sweat and tears.

“You think she’ll wake up soon?” Zip asked quietly from the corner of the bedroom, she thought.

“She’s awake now,” Winston reminded him. “If she hasn’t fallen asleep since we brought her up here, that is. I imagine she’ll be very worn out for a few days.”

She couldn’t have slept if she wanted to; her arm was in so much pain that she would have still been screaming if she could have.

“I mean, do you think she’ll ever be able to move around and talk again?” Zip said. “Or do you think whatever did that to her arm and leg made her all quiet and still like that, and she’ll never get better?”

Lara didn’t know for certain, herself, whether Natla’s paralysis would ever wear off. Even though she told herself that Natla would want to know she was struggling to get by with her useless limbs rather than lying paralysed in a bed, while she was stuck in this terrifying state of paralysis, in pain so badly she wished she could actually pass out but with no way to ask for relief, the possibility of staying this way forever seemed scarily real. Tears ran down her face again.

“Hush, you’re upsetting her,” Winston chided softly. “You will recover, Lara. I’m certain of it. Just rest and let your body restore your function.”

He stayed by her side, talking kindly to her while she nearly lost her mind from pain. Zip’s present seemed to be nearby as well, although he didn’t say anything.

After an eternity that was probably only a half hour or so, Lara’s paralysis began to wear off. The only way she knew it was wearing off, initially, was that her screams stopped being completely silent. They went from being completely inaudible to anyone but her to a quiet moan every few moments, then to a fullblown, nonstop scream as she regained limited control of her voluntary muscles.

Her eyes weren’t even strong enough to open yet, but she managed to clutch her right wrist, or rather the sinew and bones where her beautiful wrist had once been. If the pain inside the marrow had been less, she would have been far more horrified by the sensation of grabbing her own bones, but as it was she could barely think straight. Her screams continued, despite Winston and Zip shaking her lightly.

“Lara, talk to us,” Zip said.

“I hope she hasn’t gone mad from the paralysis,” Winston said, so softly she could barely hear him over her screams.

“Morphine,” she sobbed. “Someone… get me… morphine… please…it hurts, oh God, it hurts…”

The doorbell rang just then, and Zip sprinted out of the room, from the sound of it. Lara continued to hold her horribly aching arm and shriek in pain, still unable to open her eyes. “The doctor is on his way,” Winston promised her over her cries. “I’m sure he’ll have morphine. Just hold on for a few moments.”

She felt footsteps running to her room, and a moment later her physician exclaimed, “Good God! What happened to her?”

“We don’t know,” Zip replied. “She got here paralysed, and she just started moving and screaming a minute ago.”

“I don’t understand,” the doctor said, examining her nearly-skeletal arm. “For one thing, her arm shouldn’t still be attached like this, and she certainly shouldn’t be able to move it or feel pain.”

“Give… me… the… goddamned… morphine!” Lara wailed, growing increasingly hysterical from the severe pain.

“She says she’s in pain, though,” Winston said. “Perhaps you could see if morphine calms her?”

“Yes, of course.” There was some rummaging around, and a moment later a hand took her by the left arm. “Hold still, please.”

She forced herself to be still, and a needle pricked her arm. A moment later it was removed, and shortly afterwards her pain and screaming both lessened.

“Thank goodness,” Winston sighed in relief. “Are you alright, Lara?”

She nodded wordlessly, rolling over to face away from them and cry quietly.

“I’m going to get my IV equipment from the car, so I can put her on a steady drip of morphine,” the doctor said. “I’ll be back in just a moment.”

Once he was gone, Zip placed a hand on her right shoulder. “Who did this to you?” he demanded. “And how?”

“Natla,” Lara spat out the name. “Using Eitr.”

There was a heavy silence in the room until the doctor returned. “Alright, Lara.” He took her left arm again. “I’m going to put an IV in so you don’t have to deal with breakthrough pain. Would you like some Valium as well?”

“Please,” she replied, hardly feeling the prick of the IV needle as it went in. Her doctor hooked the drugs up to a stand on the other side of her bed, then began examining her.

“Incredible,” he said aloud. “The tendons are mostly gone, but the bone is held together all the same. How did this happen?”

Lara tried to think how to explain it. “Acid-like poison?” she said. “An extremely poisonous venom that eats skin but not bone.”

“Fascinating. Can you move it for me?”

With some effort, Lara found she could not only move her arm, but form a loose fist as well, despite the lack of muscles. An examination of her foot revealed similar oddities.

“Well, I haven’t got a clue,” the doctor said. “But if the pain continues through the morning, give me a ring and I’ll find a more suitable pain reliever for you.”

Lara nodded, realizing that she was incredibly sleepy and calm all of a sudden. After the doctor left, she allowed Winston to remove the towels from her bed and help her into her pyjama bottoms.

“Would you like me to stay until you fall asleep?” the butler asked.

“Yes, please.” She licked her dry, cracked lips. “I don’t want to be alone again just yet.”

He sat by her bed and held her hand, and Lara closed her eyes and began to drift off before she was even aware that she was falling asleep.