Title: Sold My Soul
Author: TheVampireLucinda
Featuring: The Undertaker ( mentions of Shawn Michaels)
Disclaimer: Rated T, for language, just to be safe.
Summary: He knew what he said he would do, he knew what he had to do, but as the day approached, he wondered where the hell he was going to find the strength to do it. One-shot. Based on a promo given by the Undertaker before WM 26, before his match against Shawn Michaels. Kayfabed. Inspired by a Black Label Society song of the same name.
A/N: So, apparently my Musi were sleeping the past two Wrestlemanias...Actually, no, it was probably me being too emotional for them to sing to me...Especially when Shawn was retiring... Anyway, since these past few weeks on Raw have gotten me somewhat "into 'Taker's head," he has let me see a bit further back...
Damn, I can't sleep.
Usually, before the Big Day, I'm sleeping like a fucking baby. Well, a six-foot-ten, three-hundred-pound baby, but a baby nonetheless.
Nerves has never been a thing for me. Sure, there's the thrill of going out there in front of thousands of people, and testing my strength and skill against whoever my opponent/victim happened to be for the night. And that feeling, that thrill, was amplified by a thousand-fold at Wrestlemania, the Grandest Stage of the All.
I've never been nervous, only excited, and I've certainly never lost sleep over any match.
Well, except that one time before I initially had to fight Kane. That was some hard shit to deal with, at the time. But even then, I wasn't worried about the match as much as I was torn about breaking a promise I made to our Mother...
Besides that one incident, though, I never sweated a match, never lay awake at night thinking about my opponent.
Well, I guess there's a first time for everything.
Because I'm sitting here, wide awake, and the clock says that it's four in the morning. A little voice in my head is telling me I'm fucked if I don't get a good night's sleep, but I keep telling that little voice that I might be fucked even if I do get a good night's sleep!
I'm fighting Shawn Michaels tomorrow.
That in itself is enough to shave off a few years from my life. He's not a big guy, but I know he's going to push me to my limits; the limits of my skill, the limits of my strength, my endurance...my sanity...That's always been Shawn's style. And with my Streak on the line, it's only going to be worse.
But that's not what's bothering me.
You see, Shawn Michaels agreed to put his damn career on the line too. I was sure he'd back out when I put that card on the table, but, to his credit, he didn't back down.
Not only did he not back down, but he picked up the goddamn card and put it in his pocket.
Now his words and mine were echoing in my head as I lay here, staring into the darkness of my room.
"You've got to put up something this time too, Shawn Michaels. This time, you've got to put up your soul. If you lose, your career is over."
"If I can't beat you, I have no career."
Crazy bastard even said it with a half-smile on his face. I could tell, then, that he meant every word, and the weeks that followed only demonstrated how serious he was.
I understood, instinctively, that this was about more than a simple rematch.
And I know even now that if I win tomorrow, I still lose.
In fact, if I win, everyone's going to lose in some way. I know Hunter's going to be pissed.
Scratch that, he's going to be fucking furious.
I don't fear that man's rage, but I know that, without Shawn, he's more than a little unstable. I suspect that, if I win tomorrow, I'll have to play the Game sooner or later.
The fans are going to hate me too.
But even that's not my main concern.
You see, Shawn's forcing my hand as well.
There's a damn good chance that I'll beat him tomorrow...But I've been wondering every day since our match was set if I'll be able to finish it.
Even now, I'm not sure.
Shawn Michaels...He and I have a long and complicated history together. We came into the then-WWF around the same time, back in the day. Our careers have been equal and opposite to one another, mirror images as we faced certain struggles and obstacles, especially in the beginning. God, those were hard times.
I'll admit, Shawn's had the harder road; but, because of that, he understands more than anyone else here the road that I've had to travel. Being a "little guy" in this business is hard; being a "big guy" is hard too. And as I lay here thinking about how far we've come, I really can't understand how we made it to this point in time.
We survived. Somehow, we've made it through Hell and come out on the other side, though not unscathed. We're legends now; two of the greatest wrestlers of all time, according to some.
And I'm supposed to put an end to that. Tomorrow. On the Grandest Stage of Them All.
I, the Undertaker, am supposed to put an end to the Heartbreak Kid Shawn Michaels.
I don't think I can do it.
Somehow, I wish there was a way to get out of this. But it's far too late to cancel the match...and, if Shawn and I have nothing else in common, we share this:
I'm not going to lay down for anybody.
So, that's my dilemma, and that's why I can't sleep tonight. Damned if I know what I'm going to do tomorrow, but I have a sinking feeling that, whatever happens, I might not be able to pull the trigger.
Can I really carry the burden of being the one who retired the great Shawn Michaels?
I hate shit like this. Why can't we just have a match? Beat the shit out of one another, and then go home for the night?
How the hell are the rest of us supposed to go on without Shawn here?
Honestly, that's the one thought that keeps entering my head. Helmsley will be a lost soul with Shawn, but I'm pretty sure I'll be just as lost as well.
And now, I'm really kicking myself for my horrible choice of words that fateful Monday night several weeks ago. I had told Shawn that he was putting his soul on the line...
But really, my soul is the one at stake here.
I wanted to blame him for pushing me to say that...except I can't. Somehow, I think that's exactly what he wanted to happen. He knew that, if he was going to go out, it was going to be against someone who could let the ax fall, clean and steady.
Except...I don't know if I can do it. He chose me for this task, thinking I could do it...That crazy son of a bitch, thinking that I could survive without him.
Doesn't he know?
"Damn you to Hell, Shawn Michaels."
I had heard him and Hunter talk about a pact they had made a while back, how if one got to the point where he wanted to, or, rather, should hang up the old wrestling boots, the other would let him know.
Well, I had no fucking idea that I was apart of that little decision.
I would never have agreed.
There aren't many of us left from those early days...And I don't want to be the one to lessen that number even further.
And, hell, if I'm honest, I wanted Shawn to be the one to send me out when the time came!
The irony of the whole situation is making me sick.
Yeah, I have to laugh to myself when I think about it, about how I told Shawn his soul was on the line.
You see, it's funny because, if I win tomorrow, and Shawn leaves, the only one losing his soul is me.
But I guess that's the price he's making me pay, the selfish bastard. My soul for his freedom. Doesn't seem fair to me.
And yet, as I look at the clock even now, I have to accept it. He's been in the game as long as I have...He's conquered his demons and changed his life. Yeah, we've both been through Hell, but that man somehow came out better on the other side.
I guess after all Shawn's done...It's not that bad a price. And that's not even counting all of the things he's done for me over the years. Hell, if I factor that in, I'm probably in his debt.
If he's willing to pay, I should be willing to pay too.
Tomorrow's going to be a goddamn mess. I know it just as sure as I know I'm not going to get any sleep tonight.
I don't know how its going to end, but there's one thing I know for certain. Win, lose, or draw, I'm going to look Shawn right the eyes after our as tell him. Because he deserves to know just exactly what he's bringing out tomorrow.
"Shawn Michaels, I sold my soul for you."
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