"Undertaker's gone missing"

"Missing?! What do you mean, missing?"

"As in we don't know where he is. We don't know where he's gone. We don't even know if he'll be back for Wrestlemania."

"Damn it! FIND HIM! Or the event is ruined!"

He'd been riding since ten that morning. He didn't really know where he was going, if he was honest. Just that he had to get away. Away from wrestling, from his life as it stood. A quick plane ride home after RAW, a good night's sleep, and without much thought to where he'd head he found himself on his bike headed towards Houston. Here, he'd stopped for breakfast, and carried on riding. The ride allowed him time to clear his head time to stop thinking about things for five minutes and just concentrate on the road. He looked over, viewing the Gulf of Mexico in the distance as he rode, and wondered why he'd never got himself a boat. Then again, there wasn't much point in owning a boat in his line of work. There was too much travel involved, too much time away for it to be worth it.

As the evening drew near, he found himself a long way from home and had reached New Orleans. Deciding a hotel would be a good idea, he looked around. It was pretty busy it seemed, as he tried several hotels without luck. No one gave a crap if you were a famous wrestler in New Orleans. Not that many would recognise him outside of his ring gear, Taker mused as he pulled up outside another hotel. The ageing white walls of the hotel reflected the lights from all around down in to the forecourt as he pulled in, and for a split second he wondered if he was doing the right thing by upping and wandering about this close to Mania. Then he remembered why he was gallivanting across the USA, and he headed towards a parking space. His eyes glanced over the bike parked up outside as he parked up his own, and he nodded in an appreciative manner at the purple, black and chrome. He adjusted his rucksack, and walked inside to see a woman dressed in a similar manner, bike leathers and with a rucksack on her back, at the check in desk.

"You don't have anything smaller? Or cheaper?" asked the woman as he approached the desk. He noticed her accent wasn't American as the clerk responded.

"No Ma'am, I'm sorry. The twin is all we have. If you can't pay full price I'm afraid I really can't help you." The woman sighed, and ran a hand through the black and purple hair. She stepped aside to think, and allow Undertaker to reach the desk.

"Sorry, did you say all you have is a twin?" He asked. The clerk nodded. Undertaker frowned. He could see the rates on the board at the back of the desk. He didn't want to spend out that much if it was just him sleeping in the room. He thought about the woman who had left the building, and ran out after her. She was just getting on the motorbike in question, and looked up as he called out to her.

"Hey, wait a second!" the woman looked up, and he saw the scratches on her cheek.

"what's up? She asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Listen. You need a bed for the night, I need one too, so, let's share the room." He offered.

"Buddy, if you think that's gonna work on me, you got another thing coming." She replied, zipping up her jacket.

"And if you think you're going to find another hotel room you can afford at 8pm in New Orleans, without travelling near enough to Lafayette, you're out of luck. Besides, I just need a place to sleep. That's it. And by the look of it, so do you." He added as now, the lights of the hotel showed she had bags under her eyes in accompaniment to the scratches.

"Alright, deal. But you try anything and I mean anything, I will break every bone in your body, got it?" She said with force. Undertaker held up his hands barely holding back the laugh that had bubbled up in his throat.

"Crystal clear." He replied. "The name's Mark," He said thinking of a name he'd used on screen a few years back. He held out a hand.

"Zelkina" She replied, taking it and shaking it. "Pleased to meet you."

A little while later, both sat in the hotel room, boxes of pizza that he'd bought as a peace offering on the bed, some rubbish drama thing on TV that neither were really paying attention to. It was more background noise than anything. He was wrapped up in his own world for the most part, but he noticed that she was frequently getting phone calls and hanging up on the person at the other end. Mainly because the person's ring tone was his entrance theme, and he was wondering how long it would take before she knew it was him.

"Someone is really desperate to get hold of you," He said, as his own phone began to ring. He looked at it, saw the number was Hunter's and hung up. It happened a few more times, from Hunter's phone number, Steph's number and Shawn Michaels's number, before he just turned it off.

"Someone is desperate to get hold of you too." She observed dryly.

"People aren't accustomed to me running away." He said with sarcasm, before picking up a piece of pizza.

"I know that feeling," she replied, more to herself than anything else. Her phone rang again and she too followed suit and turned it off. "So, what exactly are you running away from?" she asked, picking up another slice of pizza as Undertaker tried to figure out where he accent was from. He sighed.

"A lot of things. Predominantly, my boss wanting me to kick the crap out of his son. For reason's I don't agree with, yet I have to keep up appearances. This kids gonna get slaughtered cause of his dad, and I'm the poor sod that has to carry it out." He said, shaking his head. "Sometimes I think I chose the wrong career."

"You like the kid?" she asked. Undertaker meticulously studied the piece of pizza he'd just taken a bite out of before answering.

"He's a good kid. At least, he is now he's grown up. We've come to blows before, back when he was younger, and still under his dad's influence." He said after some thought. "He's done some stupid things before now. But his dad is the one I'd really like to put through hell right now, putting us both in this position. What kind of parent wants to see his own child in a pool of blood?"

"If i ever have the misfortune to see my mother in law again, I'll ask her for you." Zelkina said bitterly. "Perhaps not her own son, but she'd love to see her ex daughter in law in her own blood."

"Is that who you're running away from?" Undertaker asked, puzzled. Zelkina took a breath and nodded. "Mind if I ask why?"

"Simple. I can't deal with her crazy." She gestured to the scratches on her cheeks as she spoke. "Divorced her baby, and of course I'm some kind of harlot who trapped him for his money or some shit. I make almost double what he does, but nope, I was with him for his money."

"Because that makes total sense." Undertaker said, with a snort, getting a matching laugh from her.

"Maybe I'll tell you the story of when we first met if you're heading my way tomorrow. That's a barrel of laughs I can tell you. For now...I'm gonna get some shut eye. Been riding for days, I need some sleep." She replied, beginning to move things from the bed to the floor. Undertaker nodded, he felt his eyes weren't far off closing themselves. He doubted the girl would be there when he awoke, but if she was, her story had him intrigued. Maybe he'd go with, if only to hear what she said. It might have been a good idea to vanish after all, he mused as he lay down on the bed and switched off the bedside lamp. It could be an interesting few days.

Thanks for reading my new fic! hope you enjoyed, please don't hesitate to read my others, or leave a review! Zelkina xx