C.M. Punk, should have been on top of the world.

He had everything a kid doing moonsaults off of a ladder in a backyard wrestling federation could ever dream of, money, fame, success, and most of all the most prestigious title in all of professional wrestling, the WWE Championship.

He had worked hard to get where he was. The long years of grinding it out on the independent circuit were still fresh in his memory so he still appreciated every push and every opportunity he had been given to bring him to this point.

But at the moment, championships and title belts were the furthest things from his mind.

Over the last few months he had slowly become convinced that fellow WWE Superstar Sheamus was a serial killer.

C.M. Punk pulled his baseball cap down lower over his eyes as he passed by the bar, trying to look casual as he slowed down and glanced in the window. He could see Sheamus inside, seated at the bar. How could he miss that bright red hair?

Punk passed on then doubled back and slipped through the door. He parked himself in a booth back in the corner and ordered a Pepsi. From his vantage point he could see Sheamus clearly but if Sheamus were to glance back it was unlikely he'd notice Punk.

Though, truth be told, it was unlikely Sheamus would take his eyes from the hot little number he'd found to chat up. She was tall and leggy, and wore a short, tight dress that showed off all her assets. And from the way she was staring at him with a star struck expression she clearly knew who Sheamus was and was flattered he was talking to her.

Punk slowly sipped his Pepsi as he watched Sheamus order drink after drink for the woman

After almost forty-five minutes, Sheamus leaned forward and whispered something in her ear. She smiled and nodded. Sheamus paid the tab and he and the woman headed for the door.

Sheamus glanced around as he held the door open for the woman. Then he followed her out into the night.

Punk was on his feet a second after the door shut. He threw a ten dollar bill on the table and hurried out the door. He was out just in time to catch a glimpse of Sheamus and the woman disappear into the alley between the bar and the next building.

Punk ran to the mouth of the alley and stopped, peering into the darkness. It was pitch black, he couldn't see or hear anything beyond a few feet.

Suddenly, he heard a thump and a brief scuffling noise. "Hey!" he yelled, "Hey, what's going on in there?'

There was a moment of silence, then Sheamus emerged from the darkness, alone. He looked surprised to see Punk.

"Punk? What are you doing here? I thought you were off the drink." Sheamus said

"Where is she?" Punk demanded.

"Where's who?" Sheamus asked, looking confused.

"That woman you went in there with!" Punk shouted. "What did you do to her?"

Sheamus looked back into the darkness of the alley, then at Punk. "Um, beggin' your pardon Punk, but are you drunk? What woman? "

Punk fumbled for his keys. He had a bright led light on his keychain and he shined it into the alley. The alley was short and dead ended to a tall wooden fence. It was empty except for a couple of trash cans.

Punk slowly approached the trash cans and flipped of the lids. One was half full of broken down boxes, the other was completely empty.

He turned the light on Sheamus who held up his hands and squinted.

"You had a woman with you, a tall brunette with a short red dress. Where did she go?"

Sheamus raised his eyebrows, and grinned. "You must be mistaken, Punk. I just stopped by the bar to have a few pints and decided I should maybe take a piss before I walked home. Don't think I'd take a woman in a back alley to watch me take a leak. "

Punk took one last searching look down the alley and switched off the light. He turned to glare at Sheamus.

"I know what you're up to, "Punk warned him. "And I'm going to see that you're stopped."

Sheamus watched Punk go. His smile slowly died. He looked down at his sleeve and shook it. A short, wooden stake dropped down into his palm.