Okay, so... Tada!! First chapter's long, I know. It was originally meant to be two, but the first was short, so I just added it one to the second to create the first...

Wait... wait... okay... iz confused. Long day of school and then Marching band, where I failed. Epically... See you.

"Tonight, Layla, I have a special gift to show my love to you," Regal said, over boos from the crowd

"Tonight, Layla, I have a special gift to show my love to you," Regal said, over boos from the crowd. Layla rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, waiting for whatever the surprise was. Regal pointed to the stage, where a band was sitting. The lights dimmed and turned blue. Some one stepped out, with a fedora hat pulled over their face. The person stepped up to the mike and began to sing.

Birds flying high

You know how I feel

Sun in the sky

You know how I feel

Reeds drifting on by

You know how I feel

It was clearly a woman by her voice. The lights changed so that the shadow from her fedora prevented anyone from seeing her face, but showed the rest of her body. She was thin and fit. She wore pinstripes pants, a silk back black vest, and a maroon button down. She was strikingly attractive with out showing any skin. The men went crazy.

It's a new dawn

It's a new day

It's a new life

For me

And I'm feeling good

The trumpets started up and the woman moved in response to the pulse. Regal grabbed Layla and started dancing with her. Layla stiffened, but rocked with him. The woman's lips twitched into a smile as she continued with the song.

When the song finished, Regal ended on one knee with a crown on a red velvet pillow. Layla looked around biting her lip. Become queen of the ring? With Regal? Ew. She didn't have time to ponder this, for Jamie Noble can dashing to save her. Whoopie.

As a fight began, the singer began another song, "Crazy Little Thing Called Love". The band, confused, backed her up as the fight continued on. Eventually the referees and security got everything settled. The song was not yet finished, but the singer walked off stage anyway.

Kane turned off the monitor in his locker room and sat down. He sat down, head in his hands trying not think of what those songs reminded him of. His past, his history, his painful memories, however, bubbled up and over, until he was lost in them.

"Who you calling a freak?" said a boy with discolored eyes, himself, Kane.

"You and your family! Your brother's insane, you're a monster, and your sister is a mute! And to sum it up, you all cut up dead people!" said a slightly larger boy with a mean smile, the leader of the group.

Something in Kane snapped, he raised his fist and let loose. The punch hit the other boy square in the jaw and sent him flying into the ground. He raised his fist for another punch, but a small, cold hand on his elbow stopped him.

"Kane… Don't," whispered a voice. He turned to see his sister, concern in her golden eyes. The sight of her calmed him down considerably. She took his hand and intertwined it with hers. She pulled him away with out speaking.

The group of boys called out after him, even started to follow them. His sister kept him from turning around and smashing them to bits. She gripped his hand firmer and pulled him along home.

"Kane, sit down," she said, in her quiet voice. He obeyed. She curled up beside him and began to sing Sinatra tunes. He began to calm down. At the end, she laid her head on his shoulder and sighed.

"Thank you Jezebelle," he said.

"Mom will find out."

"I know."

"You should tell her yourself."

"Will you come with me?"

"Sure. And Kane?"

"Yes?"

"You're welcome."

Jezebelle… Oh god it was his fault! He should've gone back into rescue her! But she was gone, along with his parents. If only…

No! No ifs! What was done was done. There was no changing the past.

Then he realized.

He forgot how old Jezebelle would be! How could he have forgotten? No!

Kane fumbled for his bag and pressed the speed dial for his brother.

"Hello?" asked a disgruntled voice.

"Mark! It's Kane."

"What the hell do you want?"

"Do you remember Jezebelle's birthday?"

"Oh. It was… September 7. She'd be thirty on Unforgiven," Mark said. His voice had changed. If there was anything they'd agree, it'd be the love they shared for their sister.

Unforgiven. He'd have no chance to fly home to visit his sister's grave. After the match he'd leave for home, skip the following night. He had neglected his sister's grave for a while. Now he had to redeem himself.

"Okay. Thanks." He hung up.

Yes, he had to redeem himself.

Jezebelle Phebe Callaway

Sept. 7, 1978- March 9, 1988

Hear this, O kings; give ear, O rulers!

I—to the LORD, I will sing,

I will sing praise to the LORD, the God of Israel.

Judges 5:3

It was unseasonably cold for this early in September. The sole mourner at the grave was wearing a large trench coat to keep warm. Their head was bowed in prayer. Their red brown hair was blown helter-skelter by the wind. At the sound of feet behind them, they put their hat on and looked behind them. Then the mourner disappeared into the nearby trees.

"Who was that?" Kane asked, looking to Mark. He merely grunted and continued to trudge up the hill. He was in a funk after the previous nights events. Kane knew better than to bother him.

The two brothers reached the grave and looked at it in surprise. With most of their family gone, they'd expect the grave to be run down, maybe even vandalized. Instead they found the grave clean and well kept. There were nine candles that where sheltered by the wind in white and silver. There was a photograph. Kane recognized it immediately, and it scared him.

It was taken over twenty years ago. It was himself, Mark, and Jezebelle in their Sunday best. No one could've gotten it unless they…

Someone had stolen it, that's all, or found it. Then they found where it belongs. That's it. There was no reason…

Unless… Well, he did survive the fire after all, doesn't mean she.

No. Impossible, he watched them bury her.

"Kane?" Mark asked.

"Huh? Oh. Someone left this," Kane said, handing it to his half brother. Mark swore violently in surprise.

"Do you think-?"

"No. We know she's buried."

"Yeah, but you have an empty casket too."

"She had ashes."

"Kane… That could very well be Mom, Dad, and who ever else was in there," Mark said quietly, the painful memory making his eyes shine. Kane sighed and set down the bouquet of lavender and orchids, their sister's favorite flowers.

"May she rest in peace," he whispered. The Undertaker patted his back before kneeling down to pray. Kane followed his lead. While they prayed, both men thought about their troubles.

Kane 's thoughts were about Mysterio. Why did he hate him? Because he had everything he didn't have. A loving family, fan support, and a good looking face that he chose to hide. Why could he have it all and Kane have nothing?

Mark was thinking about Guerrero and Big Show. What was up with those two? Where they in love? He should get revenge, but could he? He'd have to be sneaky.

The two both crossed themselves and stood.

"See you in a while," Mark muttered, turning and leaving. Kane nodded and went back to his car. He went in and sat in his car, gripping the steering wheel with both hands. Tears welled in his eyes and an unreasonable anger boiled in him. He got out of the car and flew into the woods.

He went into a rampage, smashing branches and hitting everything he could find. Twigs became splinters and he even managed to knock over a small tree or two. When his anger was spent, the area around him looked like an explosion hit.

Now weak and filled with sorrow, Kane sat down against a felled tree and felt tears drift down his cheeks. He buried his face in his hands, remembering the destruction the forest had felt before. It was all because of him.

It was in this forest he had started his transformation into the monster he was now. The memory started to become real, and he knew he was dreaming. He time traveled.

The scene was almost the same as it was now. Except he hadn't caused the destruction, Mark's friends had. They had made several rude comments about his sister. Mark said nothing, so Kane had to step in. The comments he made back caused a scuffle that was soon broken up by his teachers and his sister. Then the offer made his heart leap up into his throat.

"Be in the cemetery forest at three, unless you're too chicken," A simple, childish threat filled with enough venom to stop even the Crocodile hunter in his tracks.

So he went, alone, he thought. He trudged threw the forest, and when he heard footsteps he turned and saw Jezebelle, staring at him with angry eyes. He frowned.

"What are you doing?"

"Making sure you don't get killed, or kill," she said, coming up level with him. Kane sighed, knowing he'd never persuade her to leave.

"Fine, but hide, okay?" he said. She nodded and followed him to where four boys, including their brother, where standing. Jezebelle took her place behind a tree and waited there as he stepped up to them, swallowing his fear.

"You're late," said one of the boys.

"Let's just finish this," Kane growled. Mark stood away from the group, his hands in his pockets. The three other boys stepped forward. Two knocked his legs out from under him and then held him down so their leader could begin the fury of punches. Then they stopped.

"Hey, Mark! Get over here."

"No."

"Mark! Get OVER here."

"I-I can't. He's my little brother."

"Then show him whose boss."

"No. Look… I can't."

"Fine."

There was sound of crunch leaves as Mark ran away. Kane took the pause in the torrent to assess the damage. Blood was everywhere, no doubt his nose was broken, God knows what else. It hurt to breath, so he could only image at least one of his ribs was broken.

Then the torrent began again. The leader made a direct hit to his stomach, forcing up lunch. He heard screams, Jezebelle or his own? It took him a moment to decipher them.

"Stop! Stop it now!" Jezebelle was saying.

"Shut up!" said someone. There was a hard smacking noise and the sound of someone falling and then whimpering. A few more punches that sent him in and out of consciousness and then they left.

"Kane?" came a tentative voice. "Kane are you alright?"

Kane tried to move, but felt as if he tried, he might die from exhaustion.

"Kane… Kane you hear me?"

"Yes… Jezzy."

Jezebelle pulled his head onto her lap and started humming, then singing, crooner songs. He fell asleep to her voice.

No. This wasn't a dream. Right now, someone had their arms around him and was singing ever so softly in his ear. Then they moved away. An angel, Jezebelle's angel. It was a comforting thought that brought tears, of joy rather than sorrow, to his eyes.

"Sir? Sir, are you alright?"

Kane opened his eyes. A woman with auburn hair and blue eyes was shaking his shoulder. He shook his head clear of memories and wiped his face on his jacket.

"Yeah, yeah. Fine."

"But you're bleeding."

Kane looked down at his fists.

"Oh, well look at that," he said. Then he saw the amount of splinters he had.

"Crap in a hat."

The woman took on of his hands and examined it. She brushed her hair to one side and smiled. For a moment, Kane felt like he stepped back into a dream again. She looked just like his mom, no… Jezebelle. It shocked him.

"I could help, if you'd like. I'm a nurse and an EMT if needed," she said, helping him up.

"Thanks," he muttered. She smiled again and led him to her car.

"I'm Nessie by the way. Vanessa Gallows," she said going into her trunk and pulling out a first aid kit. She motioned for him to sit on the hood. She perched next to him.

"I'm Kane," he said, not looking as she began to pull out splinters.

"I know. I work for the WWE," Nessie said cheerily. "I fixed up Noble last week. Pretty brutal of Regal to use that tiara as a weapon."

"All's fair in love in war. And Raw is war," Kane replied. Nessie paused.

"I guess you're right," she sighed. "Well, that was the last splinter. Time to bandage you up."

Bandaging took two minutes and then Kane went back to his car, promising Nessie to stop by.

Wait- why was she in the cemetery?