Uncharted : Tomb Rider.

Origins.

Fire couldn't be anything but beautiful. Shades of red and orange blended in intricate waves that danced around one another in a heated hate. However beautiful it was destructive and fatal. This particular night it was more than just a home ablaze it was an omen for the death and devastation that was sure to follow. Between the midst of the growing flames and burning embers was a young woman who fell to her knees and bent over her fallen comrade. She desperately clutched his blood soaked abdomen however futile it was while tears silently poured down her dirty cheeks. A support beam from the second story cracked before tumbling down not six feet from her was enough to shock her back to reality. She easily wiped the back of her hand over the salty wetness of her cheek before recomposing herself and heaving his heavy lifeless body upon her sulking shoulders. By the time she stepped out from her intricately carved front door her sadness and depression had instantly converted in red hot anger.

The whole image shifted and she saw herself in a circular room, chains cut the flesh on her wrists and ankles by the looks of her small frail body she was but a young child. Her legs were still thin and scrawny and the scars she had learned to love were nothing but untainted skin. Her hair wasn't ticking her back or her chest, in fact they seemed to end just above her shoulders. The floors cracked and groaned underneath her feet as she watched several faces turn to look at her from every angle. The first to speak was a very familiar face, one that represented her own. The woman had auburn hair tied into a perfect bun with focused brown eyes. It couldn't be...

"It's all your fault! If you'd just stayed where I left you I wouldn't be dead. I wouldn't be this!" the image shifted until the flesh sizzled and burned in cyan flames from the flesh of her mother. This was but a nightmare. She ripped the chains until warm blood trickled down her fingertips but she couldn't escape her bonds, she couldn't wake up.

"Everything you touch withers and dies. You're cursed" the next voice was just as familiar, he also had dark hair with black rimmed glasses. He still carried the blood on his shirt as he had the night he had died. Alistair. His image didn't shift, nor did it stay the same. Rather he flickered on and off as if he wasn't really there, like a mirage to a desperate traveler.

"We were supposed to be best friends until the end. You made me the monster I am!" Amanda back when she was still the pretty innocent girl who had followed Lara to Africa. The monster that had latched onto her hovered over her in a wavering shadow with eyes the color of glowing rubies. How she missed Amanda.

"Remember me?" another voice asked. Her voice. Her own broken voice. She turned to face a woman with an athletic built and auburn hair that blew in a breeze she couldn't feel. The woman had similar brown eyes with secrets piled onto one another behind her thoughtful gaze. Only this version of herself had a wicked smile on her lips "I used to be fun, ever since you killed Alistair you've lost me. I died the moment you shut everyone out. You killed yourself and you'll never be whole again. You deserve to die!" with a screech every single one of her nightmares rushed onto the child chained to the broken floor. She sank to her knees before sitting upright in her bed in a cold sweat.

"Lara!?" A panicked voice yelled out banging furiously against her bedroom door accompanied by an older, frail voice that called out to his employer and lifelong friend. She wiped her hand over her head only to feel the heat radiating from her skin. She looked down to see her legs exposed and the blankets kicked into a messy bundle at the foot of the bed, obvious signs of her night terror. She swung her shaky legs off the side of the bed before stumbling over to the door that she had locked for no apparent reason. Thankfully she had become an expert in concealing her worries and pains so to the face on the other side of the door she looked much more okay than she actually was. Zip, her live in technician and helping hand on most adventures stared at her horrified and concerned. The concern was clearly also etched on her butler but lifelong companion that leaned tiredly against the door frame.