It's a new story! I keep starting stories, I'm sorry. I've had this idea in my head for a while and finally got around to writing it.
This chapter takes place on the episode of Raw where the Wyatt Family attacked The Miz and wrote "Liar" on him and stuff. I don't have an exact date. I'm pretty sure it didn't take place in Las Vegas, but for the sake of this story, pretend it did.
I may post info on the characters at some point (not in a chapter, just in my bio or something.)
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I own no one except Katherine Fischer and Wesley Palmer. Dwight Vasquez belongs to my brother.
Monday Night Raw had just ended and the Superstars and Divas were packing up their things to go back to the hotel.
The men's locker room was slowly emptying, and soon only a handful of people remained.
"Hey," Bray Wyatt says. "Does anyone know where Mike is? I want to talk to him."
Earlier in the night, Bray Wyatt, along with his "family," chained up Mike, or the Miz, and wrote "LIAR" across his stomach. When he was quickly chaining him up before they started rolling the cameras, Wyatt thought he may have accidentally hit Mike's head and wanted to apologize.
"I haven't seen him since the show ended," Phil Brooks says, shrugging.
Suddenly, a female shriek came from the other side of the arena, but the men just rolled their eyes. This happened every few weeks; the Divas would be in their locker room, doing God-knows-what, when they'd see a spider and one of the guys would have to go kill it.
"I'll go see what's wrong," Daniel Bryan offers, chuckling softly as he leaves the room.
"Wonder how big this one is," Phil muses, zipping up his bag and slinging it over his shoulder.
As he prepares to leave, the locker room door swings open, revealing Daniel, standing wide-eyed, shaking.
"Hey, Bryan, are you okay?" Cody Rhodes asks, frowning.
"I think you guys are going to want to see this," He says, softly, before turning around and walking away. The other Superstars look at each other before deciding to follow him.
Since most of the roster had left, there were only seven or eight men following Bryan. As they followed him, they saw he was heading toward the Divas Champion, AJ Lee, who had her hands over her mouth and tears streaming down her face.
"AJ?" Phil asks. "What's wrong?"
He walked up to her and saw what was wrong.
Leaning against the wall across for her lay Mike Mizanin. He was in a pool of blood, with blood dripping from his mouth. His hands were still chained from earlier in the day. The word "PRIDE" was carved into him, replacing the marker-written "Liar" that was written earlier, and it looked fresh. A folded up of paper sat beside him, untouched by the blood.
He was dead.
"W-What happened?" Cody asked, wide-eyed.
No one answered, they just stood where they were. Finally, Phil walked over and picked up the piece of paper.
"What the hell?"
"What's it say?" Cody asks.
"It's a Bible verse," He says.
"But if people are bound in chains,
Held fast by cords of affliction,
He tells them what they have done.
They have sinned arrogantly.
He makes them listen to correction
And repent of their evil."
"We need to do something," AJ finally says. "We need to call Hunter or the cops or something."
"Fischer, Vasquez," Captain Wesley Palmer says, looking at the two detectives. "Please come into my office."
Captain Palmer was a man in his early 60s. He was tall and broad. He had short black hair that was graying at the edges and striking blue eyes. He had transferred from Birmingham, Alabama five years ago, so he had a think southern accent.
The two detectives follow him into his office.
"I have a case for you two," He says, placing a folder on his desk. The blond-haired woman picked it up and read through it.
"Mike Mizanin?" She asks. "Why does that name sound familiar?"
"Mike Mizanin?!" The other detective, an African-American man in his late 20s, says, incredulously. "You mean the Miz?!"
"That's him alright," Captain Palmer confirms. "Dwight…He's dead. They found him dead and that's why you two are on this case, because you're the only one who knows anything about these WWE people. You and Kat are going to go to the Orleans Arena and question everyone there. Got it?"
"Yes, sir," They say at the same time.
Kat and Dwight leave his office.
"So you're a WWE fan?" Kat asks.
They each get in the car. Kat normally drove, but she decided to let Dwight drive.
Kat had only live in Las Vegas for a few months, when she transferred from Baltimore. She was still getting used to Dwight and just everything about the state of Nevada.
"Yeah," Dwight says, nodding. "Been one since I was a kid."
It was 11 PM, so it had been dark for a while. The streets were empty and so was the arena's parking lot as they pulled into it, the headlights illuminating everything. They pulled into a parking spot.
They got out of the car and started walking toward the large building.
"If you see wrestlers you know," Kat starts as they entered the arena. "Don't freak out or…"
She trailed off and Dwight followed her gaze. At the end of the hallway stood a heavily-tattooed man. He had messy brown hair and was holding his shirt in his hand, frowning.
"You like what you see?" A smirk played on the man's face.
"I…uh…" Kat stutters. "What are you doing? Why aren't you wearing your shirt?"
"Who are you?" The man asks, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms.
Kat smirks. "I asked first."
"Fine," He says. "I took my shirt off because I was getting Mike out of the chains and I got blood on it."
"You did what?!" Kat exclaims. "You idiot! You just tampered with the evidence!"
Ignoring her, he asks, "What's your name?"
Sensing what would happen if she spoke, Dwight butted in. "I'm Detective Vasquez, and this is my partner, Detective Fischer. We've done to - "
"You got a first name, Detective Fischer?" The man interrupts.
"What's your name?" She asks.
"I asked first," He mocks, smirking.
She huffed and rolled her eyes. "If you must know, my name is Kat."
"Kate?"
"No…" She says, frowning. "Kat. Now what's your name, Mister Tattoos?"
"Phil Brooks, at your service," He says.
"Well, Mister Brooks," Dwight says, suppressing a smile. "We'd like to ask you a few questions."
This tattooed dude must be one of his favorite wrestlers, Kat thought.
"Go ahead," Phil says.
"Where were you earlier tonight?" Dwight asks.
"Define 'earlier tonight,'" Phil replies.
"When was the last time you saw Mike Mizanin?" Kat asks, clearly irritated.
"I was backstage getting ready for a match and they showed the segment between him and Bray Wyatt," Phil explains. "That was the last time I saw him."
"Bray Wyatt?" Kat asks. "Who is Bray - ?"
"Where's Bray Wyatt now?" Dwight interrupts. "Is he still here?"
"Yeah, everyone's here," Phil says, as if it's obvious. "Vince ordered us to stay here and told everyone else to get here."
"Who's Vince?" Kat asks.
"Great!" Dwight exclaims. "Thank you for your cooperation, Mister Brooks."
"No problem," He says, shrugging. "I hope you catch the son of a bitch."
Kat and Dwight continue down the hallway.
"Bray Wyatt is one of the Superstars," Dwight explains. "Vince McMahon is the owner of the WWE, which makes him their boss."
They stumble upon a room. It was mostly empty, save for the single table with food on it, although it was being put away. Oh, and it was full of large, muscular men and beautiful women.
"Are you the detectives?" A gruff voice from behind them asks.
They turn around and Dwight's eyes widen.
"Mr. McMahon…" He says.
"Yes, we are," Kat says. "I'm Detective Fischer and this is my partner, Detective Vasquez. You'll have to excuse him, he's a little starstruck."
Vince chuckles. "It's fine. It happens all the time."
Dwight's phone goes off, so he excused himself and goes to a private corner of the room.
"Where's Punk?" A red-haired girl asks, worried and confused.
"Who's Punk?" Kat asks.
"I'm Punk," A familiar voice says from behind her. She sighs and turns around.
"Where's your shirt, dude?" An African-American man with dreadlocks asks, confused but amused.
"He was busy tampering with the evidence," Kat says, frowning.
Half the room looks at Phil with wide eyes, while the other half just rolls their eyes.
The man with the dreadlocks stands up and walks over to Phil, which is when Dwight got off the phone.
"Fischer," He says, resting a hand on her shoulder.
They leave Phil and Dreads, walking to the corner of the room Dwight had answered his phone.
"What's up?" Kat asks.
"That was Palmer," He says. "We're going to be traveling with the Superstars and Divas. Since the crime happened in Las Vegas, it's our case. They don't stay in one place for long."
"What about - ?"
"The captain has already talked to Mr. McMahon." Dwight smiles. "Looks like we're going on the road."