The bridge holds

The wooden planks creaked distressingly as Lara walked on them, seeming to sink a few millimetres into each one, leaving a faint imprint of the pattern of the soles of her boots in her wake as she progressed further across the bridge. As for the rope that held the bridge together, it seemed old, frail and likely to disintegrate into a thousand little pieces from the strain of supporting the combined weight of Lara and the planks.
But the bridge held, and as Lara reached the far side of the deep, dark chasm that she would have fallen into if it hadn't’ and took a tentative step onto the stone floor of the ledge in front of the golden door, she finally stopped looking at her feet and instead looked ahead. To the right of the door, which wasn’t much taller than six feet, stood a stone statue of a Minotaur, towering over both Lara, which it would still have done even if it hadn't been mounted on a wide stone plinth, with its side to the chasm. The Minotaur was depicted as though it was about to strike down some imaginary enemy, with it’s legs bent and a massive axe raised over its horned head, while its face was twisted into a ferocious snarl.
Looking around her while being careful not to move any further across the ledge, Lara spotted the remains of several people, their bones yellowed and scattered across the open ground. She paid particular attention towards the beheaded abdomen of one skeleton, the neck was little more than a few jagged stubs of broken bones where its cervical vertebrae should have been, suggesting that something heavy had effectively torn its head off with one savage blow. Another skeleton was sporting a similar fracture about two thirds down the length of its spine, suggesting that the person whom had once made use of it had been cut or broken in half by something.

Again, Lara turned her gaze to the stone Minotaur’s immense axe, then resumed her careful survey of the ledge. Right in front of the Minotaur, a line of some sort, composed of an intricate pattern of symbols, had been chiselled into the stony floor.
Slowly putting on her gloves, Lara took a step forwards, reaching down to pick up the chinless cranium of one of the skeletons. Weighing it in her hand and gauging the distance to the line on the floor, she then leaned forwards and rolled the cranium across the floor. When it bounced over the line, she heard a faint clicking noise, followed instantly by the rumbling noise of stone moving at an unnatural speed as the Minotaur statue swooped downwards, its axe smashing the cranium into tiny fragments.
While the Minotaur maintained its new stance, the golden door began to slide open, retracting sideways into a hidden compartment in the wall to reveal a short passageway that, as far Lara could make out through the shadows in which it was covered, ended in another door.

“Well, I’m sure this isn’t another trap,” Lara said sarcastically as she squeezed her way past the dense, long arms of the Minotaur, wiggling her way between them and its legs to appear on the other side.
Before entering the passageway, Lara picked up the severed skull of another unfortunate person that had perished in the temple years earlier. As she had suspected, barely had she made it through the open doorway before the outer door began to close behind her. She quickly placed the skull in the path of the closing door, only to watch as it was pushed forwards by the heavy door before finally being crushed to dust between it and the wall.

“Oh well, it was worth a shot at least,” Lara shrugged her shoulders, not being particularly surprised or unsettled by now finding herself locked inside the pitch black darkness of a small room.

“Charming,” Lara muttered as she took the risk of having the air inside the room run out quicker by lighting one of her remaining flares, and found more skeletons littered all across the floor of the passageway. Instead turning her attention towards the inner door, Lara walked up to it, carefully stepping her way through the fifteen-feet long passageway. What Lara found as she examined the door closer was that it was an almost perfectly smooth slab of stone, save for a series of indentations running horizontally along the centre of the door, divided into frames that each contained a singular symbol made up of dots, lines or a combinations of the two. Finally, above the indentations were something written into the stone.
Scanning the two walls of the passageway with the aid of the light coming from the flare, Lara found herself looking at something that seemed to be a mural of two figures fighting, both of them larger and thicker than those surrounding them. Spanning from the top-right to the bottom-left of each wall, the battle that was portrayed in the mural ended with one of the fighters being killed by the other and his lifeless body trapped inside a mountain or giant temple by his victorious adversary.

“Strange,” Lara muttered, furrowing her brow as she followed the visual narrative on the walls. Information about the mythology of the region was hard to come by and far from complete whenever it appeared. The original beliefs of the indigenous people had long since become part of the system of religious syncretism, predominately consisting of a mix between Catholicism and the native religions, with the latter having some small amount of influence on the rituals and practices of the former. What Lara did know was that Xzolotecl had been a prominent figure, and that he had an adversary in the form of another mythological figure, either deity or demon, by the name of Lacatha. There existed fractious accounts of a mighty battle between those two, with various versions of how it ended, either with Xzolotecl vanquishing his foe, or both of them perishing in the fight.
Lara shook her head and aimed her gaze back onto the message written on the stone door. As she looked closer at it, she recognized the glyphs.

“These are Mayan,” she muttered, “but they never made it this far south…”
No matter the reason why the glyphs were there, Lara knew that she had to decipher them if she wanted to get out of there alive. There was precious little air in the passageway, and no way out of there except through the door that she was now gazing at. Thus there was no need for any lava pits, gas traps or spear pits inside the passageway, you either figured out how to get the door to open, or you died from starvation or asphyxiation.

Clearing her head and focusing on the glyphs, Lara began translating them. Of course, the decoding of the Mayan language hadn't really gotten underway until the middle of the 20th century, so the poor bastards whose remains littered the passageway had mostly likely never had a chance of getting the door to open. She picked a notebook and a pen from her pack, and with the flare in her free hand, began to quickly scribble down the message. Once she’d done so, Lara dropped the flare onto the floor and squatted down, her tan shorts clinging to her heart-shaped ass as she worked as fast as she could do decipher the glyphs.

“I am in the beginning and the end, I am not here, but you may still find me here in two,” Lara gazed at what she’d written when she’d finished the slow process of translating it, and now became focused on solving the riddle. Already, the air had become thicker and mustier.
Again, the beam of light ran the length of the twenty combinations of lines and dots, and with her newly acquired realisation that the language used above it had been Mayan, Lara didn’t need that much time to figure out what she ought to do. The Mayan numerical system was a base-twenty system, and the symbols of the table scanned from zero to nineteen. Pressing first against the symbol containing only a singular dot, Lara felt it push back a few millimetres into the door. Next, she pressed her finger against the symbol directly to the left of the first one that she’d pressed, a horizontal spheroid reminiscent of a rugby ball. It too retreated back into the door, and Lara was gratified by a rumbling sound as both doors on either end of the short passageway began to slide open.
Careful where she put her feet and conscious of the fact that there might be more traps ready to be sprung, Lara moved into the circular chamber that laid beyond the passageway, scanning the walls and the domed ceiling as best she could with the aid of another one of her flares, her supply of which was now becoming worryingly short.

When Lara stepped into the room, it was suddenly flooded by light, tongues of flame that had now come to life flickering as the room was suddenly drenched by a warm glow being emitted from countless candle holders mounted onto the walls at regular intervals.

“What the?” Lara’s hands went for her guns and the flare fell to the floor as she spun around, trying to spot if there was anyone in there with her. There wasn’t, and even if there had been, the synchronized manner in which the candles had been lit suggested that it been some sort of automatic reaction to her entering the room.
As she examined the room, Lara noticed that there were no paintings on the walls, but that their grey stone had been left completely bare. Likewise, there was nothing in the room other than three separate doorways on the far end of it.
Unnerved by the way in which the room had suddenly become so brightly lit, and keenly aware of the irony in that it was sudden absence of darkness that was worrying her, Lara drew one pistol and made sure that the safety was off before proceeding towards the rightmost doorway.
What she saw as she peeked past the doorway and triggered another candle to come to life, this one mounted halfway down the three yards of long straight corridor, was a mirror image of herself, appearing in the wall that marked the point where the corridor took a 90 degree turn to her right.

It wasn’t a glass mirror that was casting Lara’s mirror image, but rather some sort of rock or mineral that looked to have been chiselled and smoothened until it gave off a somewhat blurry reflection of whatever was standing in front of it. No, that wasn’t it, Lara thought, that wasn’t it all.
For while the image that she was looking at certainly had her build, her face and her hair, it was wearing a radically different in what she was wearing. Rather than her usual combo of a tan shorts, brown boots and a green top, the mirror image was clad in some sort of armour that glistened as though it was made from gold, with really only her face remaining unconcealed, and a spear in her hands. Nor did the image’s movements match Lara’s. While she was standing still, her reflection took one step towards her and raised her spear, holding it up sideways in front of her as though she was blocking Lara’s path.

“Well, that’s certainly odd…” Lara muttered, scratching her head whilst her reflection maintained the same guarded stance.

After backing away from the first doorway, Lara walked the short distance of a few yards to the next, operating under the assumption that there would be one safe path and two much more perilous ones. When she stepped in front of the second doorway, and the corridor that laid beyond it was bathed in light like the first one had been, she really didn’t know what to make of it.
The corridor was an almost exact copy of the first one, though with a sharp left turn instead of a right one, and with a radically different reflection of herself staring back at her. Instead armour or even her own outfit, this version of Lara was completely naked and looked as though she was enjoying herself immensely, with her tanned skin glimmering with sweat. Her hair was not in a plait, but was quite untidied and framing her face, which was flustered and twisted into a lustful grimace. The reflection’s eyes were closed and her left hand was fondling her left boob, stroking and squeezing the sizeable globe whilst her other hand was between her legs. It was definitely a physically accurate depiction of herself, Lara had to admit, right down to the hairlessness of the pink, glistening wet pussy that the mirror Lara was pumping two fingers in and out of.
Lara also had to admit, after a few long seconds of staring at this image of herself masturbating, that the spectacle of it was quite captivating. As she watched, and tried to ignore the growing wetness between her own legs, the reflection brought her left hand down from her breasts to her crotch, and began playing with her clit, running several fingers around it. This brought the reflection over the edge, and her whole body jerked as she stumbled forwards, her mouth wide open as if she was hollering out it bliss while her pussy trembled around her fingers. Even as she quite obviously climaxing, the reflection opened her eyes and looked straight at Lara, not with any air of come-hither gleam or seductiveness about her, but one of raw, supercharged sexuality that Lara didn’t know quite how to respond to.

Quite shaken, and with her nipples now poking against her top, Lara gingerly made her way towards the third and final doorway.

The mirror image that met her there was on the whole much less appealing. Clad like Lara, but with its clothes torn and filthy, this reflection was hunched forwards, its skin looking disturbingly pale, almost grey, and its eyes seeming reddish as it glowered at Lara with its sharp, yellowish teeth gnashed together. Without warning, it rushed at Lara, who jerked backwards and drew one pistol before realising that the image couldn’t actually come any closer.

“Blimey,” Lara muttered, sighing with relief and holstering her weapon again. It was obvious that she was meant to pick one of the passageways, and while the third one was definitely out, the question now was which one of the two others that she should pick. Neither of them was obviously threatening in any way, though each could be interpreted as such, the first seeming as though it would hinder her from passing and the second threatening to have her become lost in some form of sexual madness.