Title: My Own Hero

Author: TheVampireLucinda

Characters: Kharma/Awesome Kong and...a surprise!

Disclaimer: Not slash for once! But a very odd "paring..." Well, I wouldn't call them a "pairing," at this point. Just two odd eggs in a very odd basket. (snicker) Kayfabed, of course.

Summary: The WWE's newest "Diva" isn't a Diva at all: She's a 6 foot plus killing machine with the eyes of a dragon and the heart of a warrior; a living, breathing, modern day monster. However, even monsters have moments of doubt—and it'll take another monster to set things right. Title taken from the Joni Minstrel song, "My Own Hero."

A/N: Hello again! :) Hey, did I ever mention that Amazing/Awesome Kong (or, as she is now known in the WWE, Kharma) is one of my favorite wrestlers? She inspires me, and I've been wanting to write a story with her in it for a long time...and my Musi challenged me recently after an interesting event...Anyway, I hope you all enjoy! This really isn't my usual type of story...but hopefully it'll come out okay. Love and peace, all!

Kharma, otherwise known as Amazing and Awesome, sighed as she looked into the mirror standing against her in the locker room. She had just come back from destroying yet another useless Barbie Doll, and the sadistic smile from that beating still rested upon her lips.

What had been that girl's name? Maryse? Kelly? It didn't really matter, ultimately; a Diva was a Diva, and the Divas—overall—weren't worthy to be in the same ring as Kharma.

Of course, there were a few exceptions, and the Amazing One couldn't wait to get her hands on the likes of Beth Phoenix and Natalya Neidhart. She knew that those two, at least, could put up a fight.

For now, however, things were going just as she had planned: She came, she saw, and she conquered. Her most sweet memory of the past few weeks was of her debut in the WWE...and the way in which she mercilessly battered Michelle McCool on the worst night of the whore's life.

Kharma's smile spread slowly as she recounted the details in her mind: The look of pure terror on the woman's face; her tears of sorrow from losing the match transforming into tears of fright; the begging—always the begging—was so very sweet to Kharma's ears. And the screams...The endless litany of screams from her all of her victims, always of fear first, and then of pain.

A chill passed over her skin at the thought, and she shuddered slightly, shaking her head. "Damn, a girl could really get off on causing so much suffering," she whispered to herself with a small chuckle, leaning against the mirror and looking into her own dark eyes.

Slowly, some of her mirth faded. Yes, she remembered McCool's screams and tears...but she also remembered the whore's words, and, somehow, they remained with her even weeks after the fact. Kharma was a pro at brushing off the comments of idiots—they all eventually learned to fear and respect her—but this time, something different had happened. That woman had looked her in the eyes, and had actually mouthed the words, "What is that?"

Even for a princess-killing monster, that pretty harsh, and the words stung more than she would ever be willing to admit.

'Shake it off, dammit!' Kharma thought to herself, gaze becoming narrow and focused. 'I didn't come here to make friends, I came here to make a point, and I don't give a damn who understands me or not!'

It was a speech she had given herself time and time again in the past, although it bothered her that she had to once again resort to positive self-talk when she had been so confident before. The presence of so many other women never once got under her skin...but when they all looked so similar...conforming so closely to the current standards of "beauty..."

'It's because I'm in a new place,' Kharma decided, nodding in agreement with herself. 'Back at TNA, I had Raisha, for a little while at least, and the Barbies there weren't quite as weak as the ones here...Anyway, I just need to establish my dominance...make sure everyone knows that I'm the Alpha, and things will be good again.'

As before, her words seemed good to her, but deep down inside (and she'd never admit it, even to herself), but it was pretty lonely at the WWE. There were very few women who could contend with her here; she also knew that it would take some smooth talking and some big power moves to prove to management that she would be better suited in the regular division with the men (which she certainly knew to be the case).

Until then, Kharma decided, she had to wait it out, and bide her time. So what if she was alone? So what if no one here saw her as a woman? Hadn't things always been like that? She had been different since the day she was born—and she never, ever wanted to be "normal." Becoming a wrestler had given her a place to fit in, even though her size, strength and natural aggression prevented her from making many allies.

Still, she sometimes wished that she had a manager...or a partner to tag with...an ally...

"I'll get used to it, eventually," she told herself.

At least, she hoped she would.

Because things were really, really lonely and quiet right now, and she'd give her left kidney for someone to talk to at the moment.

"Stupid human emotions," Kharma whispered with a self-deprecating laugh.

"Get used to them; they never fully go away."

The Amazing One whirled around, startled by the voice, initially because of its deep growl, but then again at the realization that even though the person had to be behind her, there was no reflection in the mirror!

When she had finished her turn, Kharma's dark eyes looked up to meet with surprisingly clear green ones, ringed in black, glowing with mild amusement.

"Undertaker," she acknowledged, immediately going on her guard. Of all people, what was he doing here? Wasn't this a women's locker room anyway?

She considered, briefly, becoming the silent presence she usually was...but when she considered the fact that that it was the Undertaker who was standing in front of her, she decided fairly quickly that he could out-silence her any day.

"To what do I owe the honor of your presence?" she asked, a half-smile on her face because of the truth of her statement. She knew well that this man was one of the leaders of the WWE. For him to come seeking her out meant one of two things, as far as Kharma was concerned: Either he had something important to say to her, or she was in some deep shit.

A few uncomfortable moments (for Kharma, at least) of dead silence passed, both parties keeping their gazes locked.

"I had to see you for myself," the Deadman explained simply, taking a casual seat on the bench, although his eyes never left her. In fact, he didn't seem to be blinking at all, Kharma realized belatedly. "I've heard stories about you..."

"There are a lot of stories out there about me," the Amazing One interjected, unconsciously gripping a few long braids in her strong hands, inwardly unsure of just what she should say.

'Tread softly,' she coached herself. 'This might be one guy I can't beat.'

"I wouldn't take that bet either," the Deadman said with a small smirk, loving the look on the strong woman's face as she realized that he had somehow heard her thoughts.

"You and I," he continued, expression not changing at all, "are a lot a like. I came to the company cutting a path of destruction through ranks, and I see that you're on the same path. Admittedly, it doesn't gain you many allies...but fear and respect you will have, without fail."

"Why are you telling me all of this?" Kharma asked quietly, eyes wide. Somewhere in the middle of her confusion, she knew that the Undertaker was offering her valuable advice...encouragement even. But why?

The Deadman chuckled once, looking past Kharma and to the mirror on the wall—the mirror he still wasn't being reflected in. "As I've said, you and I are a lot alike." He stood slowly, straightening his coat and adjusting his hat.

Inwardly, Kharma breathed a sigh of relief. Apparently, the impromptu meeting was over, and she had escaped unscathed. She turned to the mirror again, listening carefully to the Undertaker's footsteps echo away from her and out of the door. Now she sighed aloud and closed her eyes, turning around and letting her head rest against the cool glass, wondering vaguely when her face had become so hot.

"You know...we're alike, but you've still got a lot to learn, Kia."

Kharma's eyes snapped open, dark and wide as she felt her wrists pressed against the mirror by large hands. Again she found herself staring into shockingly green eyes, only, now, they were completely unnerving.

"Don't ever turn you back on anyone here, you got that?" the Undertaker instructed, holding the woman tightly, unsurprised when she began to struggle against him.

"Especially the women," he continued, as if her efforts didn't matter. "Once you've secured your spot here, they won't matter, but until then, watch your back."

Kharma shook off her shock and narrowed her eyes. "I know how to take care of myself," she growled, freeing one wrist only to have it pinned above her head even more forcefully than before. "Dammit, what do you want?"

The Undertaker, still unblinking, cocked his head to the side ever so slightly. "We monsters...we have to look out for one another." A small, sincere smile came to his lips, and Kharma again found herself looking away, face burning as she bit her tongue. "Most of the times, we have to be our own heroes...But we always look out for one another."

Deciding that he'd given her a sufficient explanation, 'Taker released Kharma's wrists, giving her a nod before turning and walking out the door.

This time, she watched him go, and made sure that the door was closed and barricaded before she sat silently on a bench to collect herself.

"Hero..." Kharma whispered to herself, echoing the Phenom's words. She wondered, again, why he'd even bother with her; maybe he saw her potential? Or maybe...kinship?

After all, the monsters had to stick together right?

The newest WWE Diva shook herself once, dispelling the last of the chill that had settle on her with the Undertaker's coming, and smiled. Somehow, knowing that the mighty Deadman had her back made her feel a bit better about being here. If worse came to worse, she knew who she could turn to. And, more importantly, she had a feeling that the loneliness would eventually be dispelled.

For the first time, Kia didn't always have to be her own hero.

So, I've been toying with the "pairing" in my head...I know its weird, and definitely not my usual...But I don't know...Something about those two click in my head... My Musi seem to approve...

ShawnMuse: I have to share 'Taker with someone else? Again!

Ha, we'll see where this goes...

Review?