Uncharted: Nate's Mistake (Patreon)

Hey folks, this is a long overdue story based on a poll from last September asking you to decide the fate of video game adventurer Nathan Drake. It took some time but I finally got around to writing it and I hope gives some of you a thrill. Something tells me this would make quite the 'Game Over' scenario in a future Uncharted game...

This wasn’t Nate’s first rodeo, nor was it even his first ancient temple. He was a pro at this by now and felt no apprehension as he approached the idol, especially considering he’d already worked through every trap the temple had thrown at him. The coast appeared clear so he was more than happy to take his chances and grab at the priceless artefact that he’d travelled through the harsh and dangerous jungle to find. 

“Come here, you beauty,” Nate purred, eyeing up the idol that would make a great addition to his personal collection. It hadn’t been easy getting to its location but he was a professional and with over a decade of experience on his resume he prided himself on being able to navigate any challenge thrown in his path. It was no miracle that he had survived as long as he had - it was sheer skill, he was certain of it!

Of course once again his foolishness came around to bite him in the ass, just as he was feeling confident about his achievement. Sure, the tomb was clear of physical traps but he hadn’t counted on the involvement of mystical sources protecting the artefact. The moment his hand reached around the idol he was struck by the curse that had been placed upon it so many centuries ago. Immediately the adventurer’s body went rigid and he felt a sharp stinging sensation pressing against his skin like thousands of invisible needles pricking at the flesh. He wanted to cry out and scream in pain but his teeth were locked together and his vocal cords were similarly frozen. He was trapped!

A blistering chill spread through Nate’s fingers, across his palm and then up his arm and further throughout his body. It powered through him, flooding his insides with the coldest of winters. Had he the ability to move then there was no doubt that his whole body would be shivering from the chill that seemed to originate from the totem itself. Nate had of course heard all of the stories from the locals in the surrounding towns about the curses that would await him in the temple but he hadn’t really cared to feel apprehensive about them. After all, he was firm in his belief that there was a rational explanation for everything and curses were simply a step too far for that belief system; they were mere coincidences at best.

This whole situation, though? It was definitely beginning to make Nate reconsider his stance on curses, that was for sure.

As the cold dropped to painful depths Nate began to experience a strange tugging sensation, one that started at his chest and soon spread through each and every limb to the ends of each individual digit. Something tugged at his very being, pulling his soul out of his still-rigid body and into the totem. He could feel its expanding control over him, the tendrils wrapping around his consciousness and leading it into the awaiting darkness. The chill remained with him throughout the experience and as he was forced out of his physical body and into the inanimate form of the ancient totem, Nate felt both cold and exposed. It was a startling experience and one that soon turned terrifying when the hand gripped around his stone form loosened its grip and let go of him entirely. Nate could only stare in abject horror as his body moved on its own, staggering back like a car with a drunk at the wheel.

This is so not happening, Nate told himself, willing himself to wake up from the nightmare that was beginning to feel more real with every passing moment. You’re gonna wake up with a killer hangover and Sully bragging about drinking you under the table again. Man, Elena’s never going to let me live this one down, is she? As much as he wanted to hang onto that belief though, Nate was already considering the chilling idea that this was actually happening to him and not some alcohol-induced terror created by his own mind. 

All he could do was watch as his body began to pat itself down, even stopping for a moment over the bulge in his jeans. As a smirk began to spread over his lips, one so cruel that Nate struggled to recognise his own face behind it, the adventurer began to understand what was happening. While he had been pulled into the stone totem, something else had escaped the ancient artefact and made itself at home in his body. Disgusted as he was to admit it, the rumours of a curse on the temple and the artefacts it held were true and he had fallen victim to one such curse out of his own arrogance. Hadn’t Elena always said that his ego would eventually get him into a sticky situation that he wouldn’t have anyone around to bust his ass out of? Nate wished that just for once the blonde reporter hadn’t been totally right.

“You have no idea what a kindness you’ve done for me,” the body thief began, a hand moving to his throat as he spoke his first words. From an outsider’s perspective Nate found his own voice just as unrecognisable as his face was with such a twisted expression on it. Had he not been trapped in a seemingly endless cold then a chill would have spread through the newly-imprisoned adventurer. Everything about this was so wrong. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve been trapped in there… decades? No, centuries. Maybe even millennia. It’s been quite some time since I had a physical form of my very own and then you came along to present yourself as a gift to me! Like I said, it’s quite a kindness.”

Hands continued to wander, even pulling up the shirt to expose Nate’s firm torso from years of intense physical activity. Nate could only watch as fingers delicately traced over the curves of his muscles and his replacement murmured about how much of an improvement it was over his previous physical form. “Those bitches didn’t think anybody would ever find me, buried this deep in the jungle. It’s why they never bothered fixing the loophole in the curse. Why did it matter if I could easily switch myself out of my prison if nobody would ever get their hands on me? I guess they never counted on a guy like you getting through all their traps! You must have thought there was some real priceless treasure in here, huh?” He laughed at that, loud and booming. Ugly. None of Nate’s charm was present when he spoke, that was for sure. “It was your body, my friend. Your body was the treasure - for me - and trust me, I’ll treasure it with every day from now on.”

Seemingly better adjusted to being restored to human form, the replacement shrugged his shoulders and began to back away from Nate, across the bridge and towards the gate that would eventually led back up into the jungle. “Allow me to extend my final thanks,” the thief declared, giving a theatrical bow as he paused underneath the gate, “Enjoy the next millennia, my friend. I’d like to say that you get used to the cold but that would be a lie. You’ve got the witches to thank for that one. This was supposed to be a prison after all!”

As his body vanished out past the gate and into the darkness, Nate fell into despair. Encased in a cocoon of cold, he eventually settled into a deep slumber, hoping that another unfortunate soul would stumble into the ancient temple someday soon and make the same mistake he did. The sooner he got out of the cold, the better. When he did eventually escape - Nate had to hold onto the hope that it would happen, at the very least - he was certainly not going to be dealing with any cursed temples or totems in the future. He’d unfortunately learned the hard way that ancient curses were far more deadly than he’d ever even considered possible!