So a couple of notes for this story – This is an older story of mine that I started several years ago, back when Kane still wore his mask and had long hair. Many of the other characters in this story are from this time period as well, and some of them may not be around much anymore (including Shane Helms, who, at the time this was written, was wrestling as The Hurricane). I considered updating the story and changing some of the names, but I finally decided to just leave it as the original version. And I think with this confession, I just revealed my age. :-(

Disclaimer: I do not own Kane, Glen Jacobs or any of the other superstars mentioned in this story. The name Sinful Nature was created solely for this work of fiction and any relation to an actual site (other than my own) is purely coincidental.

Chapter 1

Glen sighed as he made his way up the ramp and through the curtains, the screams from the crowd still echoing in his head. Another night. Another match. Another standing ovation. He shook his head when he thought about how ironic it was. Almost six years earlier, he had gotten a call from Vince McMahon, with an offer to play the part of Kane, an indestructible, ill-tempered monster who just happened to be the Undertaker's little brother. Glen chuckled when he recalled the look on Vince's face at their first face-to-face meeting. The "little" part had been dropped in a hurry.

Now, years later, despite his character's intimidating and violent presence, or maybe because of it, he had evolved into one of the WWE's most popular superstars. Without a doubt, he had one of the most loyal fan followings of any guy in the locker room. No matter what he did, who he wrestled, where he went, the fans were always behind him one hundred percent. Although he worked hard and gave his best in every match he wrestled, he still didn't get it. He still couldn't understand what the fans saw in him. But as long as they continued to cheer him on…as long as they continued to pay their hard earned money to buy tickets to see him wrestle, he would continue to give them all of himself every time he stepped into the ring. He wouldn't let himself question the great success the good Lord had given him.

Making his way through the back of the arena, through the maze of corridors lined with costume trunks and plastic storage boxes, Glen headed for his dressing room, eager to shower and head back to his hotel room for some much needed rest. Opening the door, he was immediately met by a chorus of laughter and he couldn't help but give a small chuckle himself, wondering which unfortunate soul had just been on the receiving end of yet another practical joke.

"Hey guys. What's up?" he asked, when he entered the room and saw several of the guys crowded around one of the small wooden benches, gazing down at whatever it was that was in the middle of the large group.

"You gotta come take a look at this!" his friend Chris Irvine yelled above another fit of laughter, as he motioned for Glen to come and join them.

"What now?" Glen chuckled again, knowing that his friends were always finding some type of mischief to get into.

Slipping off his mask, he sauntered over to where they were gathered, and gazed down over the shoulders of a few of the smaller guys as he tried to figure out what they were looking at. Then he spotted the small grey laptop that was open on the bench and he rolled his eyes, assuming that they had simply found some type of pornographic site to look at.

"Porn? Come on guys. Aren't you all a little old to be laughing over pictures of naked women?" he teased, wondering if they could possibly get any more immature. "Hell, if its naked women you're after, just head out to the back of the building. I'm sure the ring rats have gotten pretty thick back there by now."

"It's not porn man. Well, not exactly anyway. It's called fan fiction. The site belongs to a fan that Helms here talked to earlier. It's called Sinful Nature. She gave him the address and told him to check it out sometime. Told him she'd written some pretty steamy stuff about him." Chris replied with a snicker.

"Yeah. She seems to think that the Hurricane has some pretty good Hurri-powers, if you know what I mean, Beyotch!" Shane replied, taking his superhero stance, which earned him a smack to the back of the head from Chris.

"Has anybody every told you that you look like an idiot when you do that. And what's with this beyotch thing? It's bitch, plain and simple. Get over it!" he yelled, causing another round of laughter to pass through the group.

"Well, there's at least one person who happens to like my superheroness." Shane replied, pointing down at the monitor.

"Yeah. And there's also somebody who thinks that Bubba Dudley has the body of a Greek god. Take it for what it's worth." Chris snapped back.

"He's just got a big head because someone's been writing a story about him." Shane muttered, rolling his eyes as Glen chuckled at their antics.

"Of course they have. What woman wouldn't want me?" Chris proclaimed in his best Jericho voice. "Look at me. Look at this body. I'm Chris Jericho. I'm a HUGE rock star! I'm the King of …"

"Suckas!" Booker Huffman, otherwise known as Booker T, interrupted, shoving Chris out of the way so he could see the screen again.

"Listen here, dog!" he added, playing up his character as he motioned from Glen to the computer screen. "There's even a story about me, Booker T, the five time, five time, five time, five time, five time, WCW champion. This woman wants to read the "Book" from cover to cover, if you know what I mean dog. Yeah, her own private version of the Spin-a-roony. Now can you dig that..."

"Guys, guys, guys. Come on. Why on earth would these women possible want to write stories about you, when they can write about me, R-V-D.? After all, I am Mr. Monday Night…and Tuesday Night…and Wednesday Night…Hell, I'll be Mr. Every Night if that's the way they want it. It's all cool with me!" Rob added, with a shrug of his shoulders

"Listen, DUDE. I'm sure that most of your fans haven't even learned to write yet, so I doubt that there's anything on that site for you." Chris chimed in, pushing Rob out of his way.

"But I bet there's a few there for Glen." he added, turning to face his friend. "What do you say, buddy? Want to come over here and check it out?"

"Thanks, but no thanks, man. I think I'll pass. Doesn't sound like my kind of thing, if you know what I mean." Glen replied, as he backed away from the group. "Besides, I feel pretty worn down tonight. I just want to take a shower and head back to my room so I can catch up on some sleep."

"Suit yourself man. At least we offered." Chris replied, before turning his attention back to the computer screen.

Sitting down on one of the empty benches, Glen listened to them banter back and forth as he removed his boots, then stood to remove his costume. Once he was naked, he wrapped a towel around his waist and gathered a change of clothes before heading in the direction of the showers.

The sound of laughter echoed behind him again as he left the room, and he shook his head and smiled, wondering if he was the only sane person left in the whole company. He made a mental note to himself that he would definitely have to speak to Vince McMahon about making mental evaluations part of his hiring practices!