Kelly Rook TOTALLY isn't Lara Croft I don't even know what you're talking about.
Anyways! This story has a girl with a wiener, so just a heads up if that's not your thang. Hopefully, you enjoy that kinda stuff too!
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The stone door, a sentinel against the elements and intruders for thousands of years, fell inward and shattered into a dozen pieces. A cloud of dust hung low to the ground in the moist air. Stepping in from the jungle's oppressive heat, Kelly Rook inhaled at the sight before her.
"My god," she whispered, "It's beautiful!"
She held her flashlight higher, which caught the dozens of crystals pillars in such a way to scatter the beam into a hundred different directions. The pillars themselves seemed to soak in the light, and before Kelly was down the stairs, the crystal itself glowed enough to give the entire room its own radiant illumination.
The limestone stairs ended in a walkway just wide enough for two people to walk shoulder to shoulder. On either side sat a pool of crystal clear water. She could see her reflection perfectly. Her khaki shirt and black shorts left very little to the imagination. The fabric was sopping wet from her sweat, and she smelled every mile of her long trek through the jungle. A part of her just wanted to dive into the water and refresh herself. But that would be a gross violation of archaeological etiquette. She knew there was no telling what kind of ancient mysteries lay underneath the waters, and she wouldn't dream of risking such a desecration for only a moment's relief.
A waterfall in the distance provided the only noise in the cave, but because of the acoustics it sounded almost deafening. As she walked down the stone path, the noise dissipated. By the time she reached the end of the path in the majestic grotto, she could barely hear its roar. Some trick with the sound waves, she reasoned. The same way Greek odeons could amplify the noise of the stage.
In front of her stood several large stone blocks. Chisled deep into their surface was the language of the Alkarini. Their ancient civilization had inhabited the island and lived in isolated prosperity until their mysterious disappearance. Many academics and adventurers had tried to crack their pictographs, but without a comparison like the Rosetta Stone, it was nearly impossible. Even their name was a word from another tribe, something that meant "the ones who kneel." But kneel to whom? Or what? That was but one mystery people like Kelly had endeavoured to solve ever since she had been a little girl Something that could make her a legend in the archaeological community.
Of all the strange objects on display in the secluded grotto, the most particular item of all was the statue.
Surrounded by the lettered blocks, an imposing figure peered down at the foot of the walkway. It was unlike any of the religious symbols they'd found on this island so far. Not including the protruding grey dais, it soared eight feet tall and was composed of a smooth, basaltic rock. It appeared to be the image of a naked woman, going by the enormous breasts and hips. Yet it also contained an unrealistically large phallus, the kind the archaeologist would have expected to find on fertility statues of male deities. Her arms were held above her head as if greeting the heavens above, which thrust out the enormous member in all its glory.
The statue looked as if it had been carved from a singular, contiguous chunk of rock. There were no tool makes she could easily see, nor was there a lack of detail. Every hair popped out with the same definition that one might find in real life. That it had perhaps been a real person, just frozen in stone slipped through her mind before disappearing again. That was patently ridiculous.
Still...the convincing nature of the dark stone woman made it almost more fascinating than the rest of the grotto. Kelly couldn't help herself. She extended her hand slowly, waiting for that singular moment where the pads of her fingers brushed against the rock surface. There was a buildup of tension as her hand closed the distance. What was she waiting for? Why was she holding her breath?
She touched the statue's hand. In that instant, a headache tore through the back of her eyes and made her clutch at her temples. It had felt like a flashbulb had gone off inside her optic nerve. Groaning in frustrated pain, she waited until the sudden sensation dissipated to a dull ache. Gingerly lifting her eyelid made her see a thousand shimmering spots that disappeared as she tried to focus on them. The fuzzy points of light faded with the pain. But there was something different about the room now.
There were pictograms on the stone slates that were glowing. She would have noticed this before. Had she activated some kind of mechanism? The symbols that glowed were all identical. A single three character sequence that repeated on the blocks at various intervals.
"T'thoni," she whispered. That's what the glowing pictograms meant. She knew it. It was as if she could hear it in her head before she spoke it.
The moment her lips closed on the final syllable, a pulse of heat emanated from the statue. Kelly said it again, and another burst made even the choking humidity of the jungle seem breezy. Sweat poured down her tank top and shorts, soaking them further. The fabric clung to her flesh, making her frustratingly aware of its presence. It wouldn't do. She had to be free.
Climbing out of her clammy top and shorts, she tossed both into the reflecting waters. She would retrieve them later. All she wore now was her bra, her panties, her boots, and her gunbelt. She could feel her nipples poking out at the cups of her bra. Imagine what her colleagues would say if they saw her doing something so flagrant. Contaminating this discovery by tossing her sweaty clothes. But the heat was unbearable! Now that her skin was free to breathe, she said the word again.
"T'thoni, T'thoni," she chanted. Each pulse made it clear there was something very strange about this statue. The black rock itself was hot to the touch. She trailed her fingers along the image of the being and discovered that the erect phallus was the warmest part...
She yanked her hand back. What was she doing? A wave of self-consciousness threatened to overwhelm her.
"Do not fear me."
Kelly jumped. She jerked her head around, looking for the source of those reassuring words. Her hand snapped to the .38 on her hip. She squeezed the reassuring leather handle and searched every angle, every shadow in the cave for a face to put to the deep voice.
"Who's there?" Kelly asked.
"You know my name," the voice replied. Where Kelly's words echoed off the walls, that wasn't the case for whoever spoke now. Almost like it was being beamed directly into her mind. "Say it louder."
Before Kelly could say she had no idea of the voice's name, it clicked. "T'thoni?"
The heat poured out of the statue in waves. The archaeologist felt like it was about to overwhelm her. She reached out to steady herself, only for her hands to fall once more onto the stone cock of the statue.
"Yes, child. I am T'thoni. I am your Goddess." The words had reverberated through the stone, as if the statue itself had been the one talking. She looked up to once again see the exulting, motionless face of the stone woman...and yet...
Kelly's rational mind tried to come up with an explanation for what was happening. Some kind of fungus or spore in the cave must have been affecting her senses. The heat could have made her hallucinate too. She was tired, sweaty, and in desperate need of companionship. That must have been why she heard a voice out of nowhere.
"This can't be real!" the archaeologist said out loud, as much to convince herself as the voice talking to her. "The people on this island have been dead for hundreds of years. There's no way you can be alive!"
"That is true. The people of this island, my children, have all passed from this world." The voiced sounded mournful of the race's passing, but only in the regret one might have in the destruction of a treasured musical instrument. Sad, yes, but ultimately the removal of a diversion. Nothing more. "That is why I need you, young Kelly of the House of Rook. Watch. Watch as I show you their story."
There was a pushing sensation against Kelly's forehead. Something was trying to get into her skull. She scrunched up her brow to resist it, but a wave of calm filled her body. This was not a threat, the alien sensation told her. This was fine. She relaxed and let the intrusion pass.
The cave disappeared. Replacing it in a flash was a vantage from atop the Great Zigurat at the centre of the ancient city. Looking down from the gargantuan structure, Kelly saw the city alive once more. The markets teemed with life and luxuries, priests exulted the virtues of a hundred Gods, Goddesses, and everyone in between. Soldiers in fur clothing wielding strange crystal weapons patrolled the streets. The images had an ethereal quality. It wasn't like film footage. More like a practical display of a half-remembered dream. The details would fade in and out. Clothing melted from one form to another.
The voice continued in its commanding if disembodied voice. "The island was once a paradise. Removed from the troubles of the world, safe from its corruption, it thrived. Many deities guarded its people. I was one of them."
Their view sped down the steps of the structure, detouring around carts pulled by domesticated elk and past vendors selling fruits that had long since returned to the wild. It was a remarkable display of a world long since past, and though disorientating, Kelly had become transfixed by the illusion of being amidst a civilization as it had stood thousands of years before.
"What happened to them?" Kelly asked, sliding her hand through the semi-solid projection of a young man, running down the street with a smile on his lips. "A great calamity? Some horrid disease?"
