Death Valley Warehouse District, 12:05 AM…

To say that nights in Death Valley were hot was a major understatement.

Paul Bearer had heard that more than once, but it never stopped being true. Here he was in the middle of yet another scorching Death Valley night in a three-piece suit, surrounded by men he'd rather not be around. Some of them were men who had tried to kill him, others were men he had tried to kill, but yet, here they were sitting here in the same dark, filthy room as if they were friends.

Such was life as a crime lord in Death Valley. It was constant war, and there was always someone trying to challenge you, trying to take what you have, trying to use you to make their name in the Death Valley underworld.

In fact, Bearer was sure that such a person had called this meeting, and if he had had a choice, he would not be here right now. But even a major crime lord like Paul Bearer had to answer to someone, and that someone had sent him here, for what reason he was not sure. But someone had called all the major crime heads of Death Valley with "an offer they would not be able to refuse", and the crime lords had come. Their reasons for doing so remained a mystery. Perhaps they had wanted to hear the offer. Perhaps they had wanted to see if this person would be a threat to them. Perhaps they had simply come to personally laugh in his face. Bearer didn't know, nor did he care.

He checked his watch again. This mystery person was late. He nervously looked to the door, where his bodyguard, Mr. Kane, was keeping a lookout. There were various other bodyguards keeping guard around the warehouse, as the crime lords waited impatiently indoors.

"Alright, I've had enough!" JBL yelled as he stood up. "Whoever this person is, he's wasting my damn time!"

"Sit down" said Bearer. "We've only been waiting 15 minutes."

"Don't tell me to sit down!" JBL yelled. "I have things to do, deals to make! I don't have time to be sitting around waiting for some jackass to jerk me around!"

A couple of the other lords nodded in agreement and stood up as well.

BLAMMM!

A shot rang out, startling everyone in attendance. The bodyguards wasted no time barging into the building, guns drawn, to see if their bosses were in danger.

"Sit down, all of you" a strange voice called from the scaffolding above them.

No one made any move to obey.

"Who the hell are you?" JBL demanded. "What the hell are you playing at, shooting at me?"

"I was not shooting at you, but if you do not take your seats, I will be" the voice replied.

Very slowly, everyone began to take their seats again. The bodyguards headed further into the warehouse and took up positions around the table.

A shadow appeared on the scaffolding and made its way into the light. It was a man, dressed in a red suit and carrying a cane. He had long black hair and a sinister beard. Behind him stood a large man in a black suit with shaggy brown hair and a strange half-mask.

"My name is James Mitchell" the man said. "The man behind me is Mr. Abyss. And as of now, you all work for me."

This pronouncement was met with silent, and then JBL stood up.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" he demanded. "We don't work for no one, especially not some freak like you! Who are you to just come in here and…"

Another gunshot silenced his rant, causing the bodyguards to draw their guns and point them at the stranger.

"Please, you misunderstand me, Mr. Layfield" Mitchell said. "I'm here to help you all. I can make you all richer than you could ever imagine. I can extend your reach beyond this pathetic desert city, and in return, you will all answer to me."

"And how exactly do you plan to do this?" Vickie Guerrero asked.

"Patience, Ms. Guerrero" Mitchell said. "All in due time."

"You expect us to throw in with you, and you won't even tell us what it is you're planning?" Bearer screeched. "Are you insane?"

"Oh, I don't expect you to do it right away. Just know that in due time, you will all see exactly what I'm capable of. And then you will have no problem "throwing in" with me" Mitchell replied, a sick smile spreading across his face.

"Excuse me!" Vickie exclaimed. "I know you're new here and all, but you do know that we have a growing problem here, don't you?"

The smile never left Mitchell's face as he turned towards her.

"And that problem would be what exactly?" he asked.

Before Vickie could reply, a strange purple light lit up the building, causing everyone at the table to panic.

The light, the sound of tires that accompanied it… they knew what it signified.

He was here.

A crash sounded throughout the warehouse as a jet-black car smashed into the building and screeched a stop at the head of the table.

The criminals at the table could only stand in frozen fear. Even though they all had seen the car before, even though they all knew who it belonged to, even though they all knew what was about to happen next, the fear overtook them every single time. The back door opened, and he stepped out.

Paul Bearer could only stare in fear as the man in the car made his presence know.

There he was, dressed in his familiar black suit, black coat, purple tie, and black hat. The cold disdain of his eyes could be seen through the grey Phantom-like mask he wore.

He was the man they all feared.

He was the man who symbolized everything that as destructive to the business of crime on Death Valley.

He was the man who made all their lives a living hell.

He was the growing problem Vickie had referred to.

He was the Undertaker.

TBC…