Disclaimer: I still ask myself why a bother with this. We all know that I don't own any of the characters. The characters I do own are Tay, Orak, Juan, Aurora, Rosario and Manuel. They are mine created in sole purpose for this story. Warning! If anyone of my family reads this, I warn you I got all the best lawyers of the world on my side you wouldn't stand a chance. So just forget it, that's right! I use your names for this story but that's as far as it goes.

This story is a work of fiction based on the story and characters that are the property of the creators and producers of "Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's The Lost World" syndicated television series.

Author's Note: I must thank all those people who always review my stories to name a few: Evil Irish Eye, TLWROX, Tessa, Nefret24, Steffi, Brandy Leigh, Jaclyn, Lixta, Panda Eyes, Len, Orry, Kseniya, Maggie, Mindy, Beth and Lin.

I also want to thank Jacqueline my beta reader without her help it wouldn't have been possible. She always takes care of those awful grammatical errors and even writes a few lines to make the story run smoothly. Thanks :D

A writer always appreciates feedback. Enjoy!

The Call


Malone and Veronica continued walking along the riverbank. So far they hadn't made much progress; everything was different, they had no idea where they were, and with no animals or people in sight, it was almost eerie.

The sun's rays were more than tanning the young reporter's fair skin; with his sleeves rolled up, his arms looked darker than usual. His strain was beginning to show. His shirt, permeated in sweat, gave off an almost foul odour, which invaded his senses in every way. Clinging to his side was Veronica. She, too, looked enervated. The jungle beauty suffered from a serious case of sunstroke; her hair was soaked in her own sweat. If this sweltering heat keeps up...her train of though came to an abrupt end as she felt a sharp pain in her right temple. Immediately she motioned for Malone to stop; she couldn't go any much further. She was beginning to feel dizzy and was afraid that she would faint.

Malone helped her companion settle down under the sheltering branches of a tree, while he dug inside his backpack for his canteen. Once he found it he immediately offered Veronica the last remaining drop.

The water was warm, and it did nothing but dry her throat.

"Here," he said, offering her one banana of the many they had picked up along the way.

"I'll be right back," he told her as he left her side.

Veronica acknowledge him and closed her eyes for comfort as she took deep long breaths, fighting off the nausea.

Having settled Veronica down he headed to the bank of the river. He didn't think he could endure this heat any longer. Reaching for his canteen, he caught sight of his reflection; he was in bad shape. Cupping his two hands together, he dipped them into the water. It was far cooler than he had expected. Bowing his head, he scooped up water in his cupped hands and poured it all over his head; his body welcomed the relieving sensation.

Whatever had he done to deserve such a cruel fate? Here he was lost somewhere inside one of the plateau's realities. His fingers slowly began unbuttoning his shirt. He needed a quick dip in the river to refresh his body and mind.

Ten minutes later; a very refreshed and alert Malone made his way back to Veronica, his bare chest glistening in the sunbeams. Water dripped off his short blonde hair.

"I was starting to get worried!" Veronica shot up to an upright position.

"Sorry didn't mean to take so long," he said as he handed her the canteen.

A weak smile formed on her chapped lips; Ned Malone smiled back at her as he hung his shirt in a nearby branch to dry. His trousers were wet but in the presence of a lady he couldn't take them off as well.

Twisting the cap of the canteen, Veronica proceeded to take a long swig from it. The refreshing water made its way down her throat, eliciting a wave of relief. Taking a page from Malone's book she poured the remaining water on her hair and face. It was cool as well as refreshing, just what she needed. The sensation brought new life to her.

Malone took a seat near Veronica; they had come to the conclusion that if they were going to make it back in one piece, they had to take at least an hour's rest. Slowly peeling his banana skin off, he began to take small bites out of it. Delighting in the fruit flavour, he watched Veronica fall into a deep sleep; he soon followed his beautiful companion who was now a little worse for wear.

Inside one of the huts, the sleeping form of Marguerite lay sprawled along a makeshift bed; her luscious locks were sprawled all around her. Her normal features were distorted by a displeased look. Flinging her head violently to one side, the soft corners of her lips twitched. Back in the dream world, engulfed by the white dense fog, she disappeared.

"Where am I?" her voice echoed, as her slim figure became visible.

"Do not fear my child, the time has come," came the too familiar voice.

"You! Where were you when I needed you?" Lashing out at him was not what she wanted to do but it was entirely his fault.

"What am I suppose to do, he's got Roxton under his control, not to mention the whole entire Zanga village!"

"Marguerite, you mustn't let him..."

"Tell me something I don't know!"

"Remember back to when we handed you your powers," were his last words, as the fog that had brought them together now consumed him, vanishing from her sight. She gave a cry of frustration as she reached out for him, only to open her eyes and see her hand closing on empty air.

After a long rest the two explorers finally awoke, rested and feeling much better now that the sun had finally began to give them a break. Veronica, who was standing beside the tree, noticed something unusual that wasn't there before. A white fog-like wall could be seen behind the deep dense jungle. She called for Malone who was filling the canteen up. At her call, Malone turned towards her, he too noticed it and a smile crept onto his face. "Let's go," he said.

Fifteen minutes later the two explorers were now standing in front of the misty wall.

"What do you think?" Malone asked.

"There's no other choice but to go through it," Veronica replied. She stood firmly holding onto Malone. She too was afraid that it might lead them into some other land, but they had to take the risk.

Just as they were about to go through, they paused as they heard the laughter of a young boy.

A small boy about nine ran out of the bushes directly towards the explorers and stopped as soon as he saw them.

The boy, who was wearing a straw hat, blue pants, and a white shirt that hung loosely on him, stared in disbelief at the white fog and immediately began calling for someone.

"Aurora!" he shouted.

Approaching footsteps could be heard. From out of the bushes, a little girl pushed herself through. She was taller that the little boy, possibly a year older; her hair was braided into two tails and her once pristine white dress was now covered in mud.

Her large brown eyes stared curiously at the two strangers. Pulling her brother out of harm's way, her sisterly instinct kicked in. How many times had she been told by her parents to beware of strangers, especially gringos? Unlike her immature, naive brother she knew better. They had heard stories about the wall of mist. What was it that they called it, " La Puerta del Diablo?" Clutching her hand brother's hand tightly she started backing away.

"Where do you think they come from?" Veronica asked Malone.

"Who knows?" he shrugged, as Veronica observed the girl backing away.

"Hi there," he tried to communicate." My name is Ned Malone, and this is Veronica."

The little boy, who had snapped out of his trance, spoke. "No hablamos ingles, Señor."

Malone recognised the language as Spanish. He could manage a few sentences but not enough to start a conversation. Languages was Marguerite's department, he though.

"I speak a little ingles, señor." Aurora could see that the blond woman was in a great deal of pain. She decided to risk it; besides, they didn't look dangerous. They certainly weren't poachers.

Malone expressed relief; once and for all he could find if they were still on the plateau or in some twisted reality.

"My name is Aurora and this is my brother Juan," the girl told them as she cautiously approached them.

"This is Veronica and I'm Ned," he re-introduced.

Juan, was on the other hand, was more interested in experimenting with the portal; he was about step into it when Malone spotted him.

"NO, " he told him as he held onto his shoulder.

Juan stopped immediately as he heard the gentleman's cries. Pulling him back to safety was his sister; she immediately launched into one of her sermons. He was used to them; his mother and father, too, were accustomed to them. He was a troublesome child; there wasn't a day where he didn't get into some sort of scrape.

Aurora raised her voice even louder. Apparently, in spite of her innumerable lectures, her brother didn't seem to get it through his thick cracked skull. She was his older sister but she sure felt like his mother. She still remembered the time when he had broken his leg. She had warned him about climbing that tree. Now all she could do was roll her eyes and warn their parents of what he was up to.

Malone and Veronica stared intensely at the two.

"Sorry, Señor. He can be a bit stupid sometimes." She pulled him close to her, giving him a final warning.

Malone could only muse on what scrapes he usually got in to.

Aurora immediately express her concerned for Veronica and asked her if she was OK. Malone did his best, trying to explain her that she had sprained her ankle, but his vocabulary was somewhat limited.

Aurora spoke to her brother and then motioned for them to follow them. Perhaps they had just detoured somewhere; it was best if they followed the girl and find out just where exactly they were.

A huge sign welcomed them to the "Hacienda Gonsalez." There were miles of acres with crops and cattle. Workers busily scampered around doing their daily chores. Two dark tanned men approached them. Aurora gave orders to them, which they apparently took very seriously. They stepped up to Malone, and, relieving him of Veronica's weight, they gently picked her up and made their way to the big house. He followed them closely and expressed his gratitude in their native tongue.

At entering their house, they were greeted by the Aurora and Juan's father. A man in his late thirties, he motioned for his workers to settle the girl in one of the guest bedrooms. It was hard to understand, as he spoke at an alarming rate, but Malone got the gist of it. The man then seemed to be motioning to one of the house girls to get him something.

Aurora and Juan both stood attentively looking at their father, obviously aware of something he didn't know.

Having finished giving orders to his servant, he turned his attention to the two little children. His voice was calm but strict. Aurora and Juan listened attentively at their father reprimanded them. After he dismissed them, he was able to finally turn his attention on Malone.

"I'm Manuel Gonsalez." His accent was strong.

"Edward Malone." He shook his hand.

"Don't worry about the Señorita, or should I say your wife, my wife is looking after her," Manuel tried to reassure him.

Descending the stairs, a woman who could not have been more than thirty made her way to the bottom of the stairs. Her hair was swept up in a bun; her dress, although simple, clung to her slender body.

"This is my wife Rosario." He took his wife's hand to help her down the stairs.

The woman nodded with a brief smile.

"Tell me, how is she?"

"Her ankle will heal nicely. We rubbed in some paste, which will help with the swelling. We've disinfected her wound." Her voice was soothing as she explained his friend's condition.

" Wound?" There had been no wound apart from a swollen ankle.

"She did not want to worry you but she had a small cut in her foot, nothing serious, " she said as she tried to reassure the anxious man.

"Thank you." Malone smiled gratefully at his hostess.

"You must be famished." Turning to his wife, Manuel asked politely, "Rosario, please have the maids serve dinner."

Leaving her husband to it, she left for the kitchen.

"Tell me, Mr. Malone, what are you doing out here?" he asked as they walked to the dining room.

"If may I ask, where would I be?"

"Why, the Gonsalez Hacienda." Manuel almost felt offended, as it was a widely famous spot for tourists.

"What I mean is, where are exactly are we?"

A puzzled looked formed on Manuel's tan features, but in a moment he understood Malone's question. He replied, "Peru."

Malone's mouth dropped in shock as he heard those two syllables. He could hardly believe that after of years of searching, they had finally found a way out without even looking for it.

"Are you alright?" Manuel had seen Malone's reaction and wondered if perhaps they had strayed from their party and become lost.

"Yes, it's just that..." Malone proceeded to tell him of their toils and struggles to find a way out of the damned plateau.

At the mention of Lord Roxton's name Manuel's face lit up. Roxton was famous around these parts for his exploits as well as his scrapes with poachers and slavers. He seemed to recall a story in a newspaper, about the ill-fated Challenger Expedition. Although no bodies had been found, he had heard from mostly British hunting parties that they were believed to have died at the hands of cannibals.

Once dinner was served, Veronica, Rosario and her two children joined them at the table. Between bites, the men kept busy exchanging anecdotes. Veronica on the other hand kept much to herself. Malone had told her where they were. To think; she was the last person who wanted to leave, and now here she was. Both of the children had taken a liking to her, asking her all sorts of question, which she did her best to answer.

After dinner, Malone thanked their host kindly for putting up with them but they had to leave. Their friends were in danger and they had to be back. Before leaving, Malone left one of his journals and asked Manuel kindly if he could send it to the address he had written on the piece of paper. He had to let his family know that he was alive.

After saying their goodbyes, they left without looking back. Finding the portal, they stepped into a world full of excitement and danger. Hopefully someday they could come back. However, they could never abandon their fellow explorers. They came as a group of explorers, and they would leave as a family.

Night was falling in the plateau. At the treehouse Challenger feverishly worked in his lab. The two of them should have been back an hour ago, he thought. Where the hell were they? Without a moment of thought he left what he was doing. After packing some supplies he left the treehouse in search of his companions.

Two hours later Challenger stood in the outskirts of the village. He had been sitting there for an hour with nothing to do but watch. It was impossible to get into the village without being spotted; Zanga warriors guarded the village from all sides. Picking up his binoculars he spotted Roxton. He walked with a blank expression on his face. He had as much suspected that the man with the black cape was controlling Roxton. So far he hadn't any luck in spotting Veronica, Malone or Marguerite; they were no were in sight.

As he hung his binocular around his neck, a strong hand clasped his mouth shut from behind. Appearing out of the shadows, Veronica slowly moved to his eye line, signalling for him to stay quiet; Malone released his hold.

Challenger was more than relieved that his two friends were alive. He immediately noticed that Veronica was on crutches. "What happened to you?" he inquired of Malone. "I thought the two of you were in there," he said as he pointed to the village.

"It's just a sprain, nothing that I can't handle," Veronica assured the professor. In fact, the pain and the swelling were almost gone. Whatever they had rubbed on her ankle had done its job.

"I take it Roxton and Marguerite are in there." Malone tried to take a look through the lush greenery.

Challenger nodded as he once again observed the village through his binoculars.

"Here, see for yourself." He handed Malone his binoculars.

Malone observed as the man they had met earlier gave orders to some of the village people. "He seems to be controlling the entire village."

"Including Roxton," he added.

"Don't we know it! What's the plan?" Malone asked as he crouched down next to Challenger.

"I just haven't been able to determine what is going on," Challenger said.

"They are clearing the entrance of a cave not far from here," Veronica informed him.

"Whatever for?" A befuddled expression crossed his now tired features.

"We didn't exactly had time to ask. Roxton turned on us, gun in hand; he was quite willing to shoot. We did manage to see a strange man dressed in a hooded cloak coming out of the cave, who I presumed is this Orak Marguerite told us about." Handing back the professor back his binocular he continued, " More or less I say they are stabilising the cave for some ritual purpose."

"How on earth are we ever going to get them out?" Veronica asked, remembering quite well how willing Roxton had been to kill them.

"If his powers are greater than Marguerite we stand no chance, " George Challenger concluded.

Inside one of the small huts, Marguerite was starting to fully wake up. After her dream, she had managed a short nap. She looked around her, but the room was barely lit. She slowly climbed off of the mattress and headed toward the door. Just as she thought; guards were stationed around the hut. Her throat was killing her. Rubbing her throat for some relief, she looked around for something to drink and spotted a jar. Carefully she made her way toward it. Studying the contents up close, it looked like water, but when she drank it, it was a bit sugary.

Nonchalantly she treaded towards her bed. She sank down, finally letting her worries overcome her. She couldn't defeat him alone; she had tried escaping but it had failed. She had to think of something. She wasn't about to let him win. Her mind flashed back to when she had asked about Veronica and Malone. She only hoped that it had been lie; something told her that they were alive and well.

"Challenger!" Was George on his way? She had to warn him. Could she be able to do it telepathically? She had to try.

She sat up onto the bed and began concentrating on Challenger. Slowly she started to empty her mind, the more she thought about Challenger the more she felt connected toward her fellow explorers. After ten minutes of concentration she was finally able to pinpoint where he was. A triumphant smile crept onto her face.

Outside Challenger, Malone and Veronica organised themselves to infiltrate the village.

Challenger tucked his binoculars in his backpack. "And remember," he continued, "light up each strand within 1 minute of each other." He repeated his instructions to Veronica.

Veronica nodded and wished them good luck.

Heading on the opposite direction of his fellow explorers, George Challenger stood still on his tracks as he heard his name being called over and over.

"Did you say something?" He turned to Veronica.

"No," she whispered back.

"There it is again." A wild expression crossed his face.

"I don't hear a..." Malone was interrupted as the Professor motioned for them to be quiet. Glancing towards the Zanga village he understood, as he stared directly towards Marguerite's hut.

"Marguerite!" he said aloud.

Veronica and Malone stared at each other in awe as Challenger began talking to himself.

Midnight was fast approaching, the witching hour where everything would be resolved. He had been waiting for this for a long time; everything had to go according to plan. Orak made his way inside Marguerite's hut.

"You didn't think you could outsmart me," he chided.

Marguerite was startled, but she quickly stood up to her full height. She wasn't going to let this man intimidate her.

At that same instant four Zanga warriors came inside the hut. Their prisoners, Challenger, Veronica and Malone, were shoved in front of Orak.

A look of horror crossed Marguerite's face.

"I take you haven't develop all your powers otherwise you would have tried something by now." He towered over her, intimidation worked like a charm on his prisoners. "Just in case you get any ideas." He turned to the warriors, his mind working overtime as he gave orders to them.

Upon his orders one of the Zanga men punched Challenger in his stomach.

As he doubled up in pain, Marguerite rushed to his side. As she grasped Challenger's hand to help him up a surge of light passed between them.

Blocking his view was Veronica. "You animal," she yelled as she lunged at Orak.

"Get rid of them," he ordered the warriors in their native language.

"No!" Marguerite's face was full of fear; she had to think of something.

"On second though, bring them. I want to see their faces as I kill her and become the one and truly Zchasnet." He made his way out.

"Do please join us Marguerite," At his command Marguerite was pushed forward, sending her crashing to the ground. "You are our honoured guest."

Picking herself off the ground, her fiery grey-green eyes were full of contempt, but she was left with no choice but to follow them.

A ten-minute walk was all it took to arrive at the cave. Struggling with their bonds was almost futile; red marks from the rope cuts were beginning to show. Having been allowed to remain in crutches the golden haired beauty walked alongside Marguerite. Malone and Challenger kept the pace up in the front, and Marguerite could see their hands working feverishly to free themselves of the binding ropes. Two Zanga warriors escorted them on each side, their faces covered with blank expressions. To her advantage, they were puppets. None of them did something unless asked and none of them noticed when she'd had been handed the sharp knife which she had hidden in her stockings.

Glancing at the mouth of the cave, she saw them; two more pawns in this twisted game which no doubt would end in a massacre. Roxton and Assai were standing side by side; blank expressions covered their faces.

Taking up the front Orak joined his two victims at the opening of the cave. "You see, for me to be able conduct this ritual," he explained, "I have to release my hold on the village. All but these two," he said, grinning fiercely as Roxton and Assai continued to stare ahead.

Relieving the Zanga warriors from their duties, Roxton and Assai took their places. Having been given orders the Zanga warriors started back to their village.

"I need as much of my power to conduct this ritual," he continued as the explorers were led inside the cave. "After you." He was the last to enter.

Like all megalomaniacs, he liked to brag about himself. That's right feed that over inflated ego, Marguerite thought; she needed to learn more of his plans. Marguerite wasn't one to stay quiet, but she didn't want to ruin her chances. She stepped in, and after reaching the end of the cave, they were now standing in a medium sized oval chamber. Hanging along side the wall were eight torches that did the job wonderfully, illuminating every crack and cranny.

As soon as Orak stepped out of the corridor, the whole cave began shaking. "We wouldn't want to be interrupted." A small dust cloud erupted from the corridors; the whole cave entrance had collapsed.

"I know what you're thinking, how would I get out? Those are minor details that where you are going, you won't need."

Adjusting her eyes to the light, Marguerite looked towards the centre of the room and saw the ceremonial altar. A rectangular slab about 3 feet high, it had inscriptions all around it, the same hieroglyphics Malone had copied down on his journals.

Pushed from behind two pair of strong hands urged her forward. Without thinking she turned around. His frame seemed more aggressive, and Roxton's green eyes commanded servitude. She wasn't about to comply. She stood firm on her ground staring back in almost the same manner; pleading with him would a least give her a chance of succeeding with her plan.

"Roxton!" she called to him. " I know you can hear me, please let me go." Her voice began to crack.

Ignoring her pleas, he grabbed her by the wrist. Pulling her to the altar, he deposited her on top of the slab where he began tying her onto it.

"Damn it, John!"

Roxton continued tying her, showing no emotion whatsoever. After he finished tying Marguerite, he joined Assai on the opposite side of the room.

Turning his attention to the rest of the explorers in the corner of the room, Orak spoke in a resonant voice, "The hour is upon us and soon I will be all that I can dream of." Orak approached Roxton, who handed him a carved wooden case. Returning to the centre of the room, he raised the box to the skies. Acknowledging the gods' approval, he opened the case to reveal a ceremonial dagger. Its silvery blade shone brightly; its handled was engraved with different kinds of symbols than the altar. His sinister plans soon would take effect; he wickedly smiled as he caressed the dagger.

Removing his dark black cloak, which neatly fell to the ground, he then approached Marguerite. "Soon all of this will be over," said as he brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear.

Sheer disgust was eminent on her beautiful yet frightened features.

"They tried to protect you," he whispered hotly against her ear. "But they failed, just as they failed to keep me imprisoned." He turned to the explorers and said, "Now they will bear my wrath."

Starting the ritual, he began by chanting in some ancient language. His voice grew louder, with each line. Four out of the five explorers watched in pure horror as he raised the dagger above his head and prepared to plunge it into Marguerite's heart. As his hand rapidly descended, Marguerite rolled out of the way just in time. " Now!" she shouted as she ran across the room.

Orak's senses failed to perceive the inevitable. In one swift motion he was thrown across the room. His body collided painfully with the cave's wall; darkness soon descended upon him.

Challenger stood within a distance of his body. It had worked! Transferring her powers to him had done the trick.

From behind Roxton was beginning to come around. He had been unexpectedly knocked over by the older man. Standing firmly on his two feet, he prepared to pull the trigger of his Webleys. His index finger gently pulled at the trigger. The final outcome would end up killing the man he had once promised to follow to "Hell and back" An unexpected push brought the tall hunter down. Unable to stop him from firing his gun, Ned Malone watched in horror as the bullet made its way to its intended target.

The sensation of flesh being ripped shook the Professor off of his feet. "I'm ok," he shouted as he overcame the initial shock.

A sign of relief crossed Malone's face as he heard him. He had indeed stopped the professor from being seriously hurt; the bullet had merely grazed him. The slight stirring on Roxton's part prompted the journalist to knock him unconscious for the safety of all of them and his own conscience.

Not so far away Veronica and Marguerite were reasoning with Assai. Twice had she attempted to hurt them; Veronica was in no condition to confront the woman so she did all that was possible to talk her out of it. They did not want to hurt her, but their friend was more than willing to hurt them. As Assai flung her knife furiously at them, Challenger sneaked up from behind. He slowly tapped Assai's shoulder, and as she turned around, he punched her squarely on her jaw. He caught her as she fell and gently lowered her unconscious body to the ground.

At the other side of the cave Orak had already regain consciousness; he was furious and without a moment of thought he sent everyone crashing to the ground. No one was going to stand in his way. Content with his accomplishment he marched to a semiconscious Marguerite. He would not waste any time. He clutched a hand full of her thick hair and began dragging her towards the altar.

Once again he deposited Marguerite on the slab. As he bent forward to pick the dagger, Marguerite gathered all of her strength and kicked Orak with both of her feet, causing Orak to hit the ground. He did not hesitate in retaliating; in a second he sent Marguerite flying across the room. Marguerite landed on her rump just a few feet away; his force hadn't been as powerful as he had hoped.

Marguerite helplessly watched as Orak made his way to retrieve the dagger. Not a moment too soon, Challenger telekinetically grabbed the dagger just as Orak touched it and in one motion he sends it flying towards Marguerite. As she reached to grab it, the whole cave became unstable; debris and boulders from small to large started to shower on them.

Narrowly avoiding being hit by one of them, Marguerite made a leap for the dagger. With a mighty grip she clutched the dagger. However, smiling down at her, Orak's boots descended hard on her slender fingers. A piercing scream escaped from Marguerite's lips as she released her hold.

Unable to do anything, Challenger, Veronica and Malone pulled an unconscious Roxton and Assai to safety, seeking shelter on the opposite side of the cave. Roxton and Assai were now coming around; rubble and dust clouded their vision.

Marguerite and Orak begin struggling with the knife, so close that it was almost impossible to see who had the advantage. "I hate to break it to you, but I have no powers, I transferred them all to Challenger," she said to him defiantly. "The only way you get out of here is in a coffin." Orak's face was a mask of hatred.

"The same thing could be said for you," he snarled as he plunged the knife into Marguerite's stomach.

Marguerite's face turned stone cold; disbelief sparkled in her eyes. She looked down to the protruding knife in her stomach; blood poured freely out. In a flash, she reached for the dagger. With the dagger firmly in her grasp and her breathing erratic, she called up her remaining strength and she plunged the knife into his heart.

His hazel eyes clouded in disbelief as he felt the dagger's smooth blade penetrating his body. Gasping for his final breath, he fell to the ground. Marguerite followed closely.

Five pair of eyes stared at the events in total shock; distress and the inability to do anything froze them in place. Disbelief was written across their faces.

A small light breeze made its way through the cave; the chilling light wind brought the explorers out of their trance. One by one of the torches went out, leaving the explorers in complete darkness.

To be continued...

Hehehehe, aren't I evil? Would I be capable of killing Marguerite? That's for you to find out in the next chapter. Hope you like it, still working on that 4rth and final chapter ready, seriously, I am! Now to get motivated you know what to do, hit that Submit Review button and make me happy.