PhoenixAngelink: Good grief! You really like this story don't you? ;) But I am very glad you do and you have been reviewing ver nicely! I am aware no of Benoit's OOC thing so I will be more carefull in future chapters. Undertaker I am not going to say much on this, there is an interesting reason for his OOC reactions so I'll leave it at that. As for Batista I really like him the way he is, I probably won't change much (except get him more in to character) but I used him because his solid and he was perfect for the role!

The alternate chapter I will post at the ending, it is rather interesting chapter, but it didn't fit into the story so I'll post it at the end to statisfy your needs! ;)

And I am absolutely thrilled your not bored anymore!

PheonixAngelink mentioned that Benoit was OOC in the previous chapter, now no one worry! I will fix that in due time! I have taken some time to study Benoit a bit and figure where'd I'd gone wrong (easier question where I hadn't gone wrong!) But either way I think I've yanked him back on track and I hope you like em now!

Yours insanely

Golumfryingeggs.


Darkness, cold, obliterating, freezing darkness surrounded him, his heart slammed in his chest as his twisted mind tried to identify his location in this strange and desolated place. But nothing came, no image of long lost memory, no sudden remembrance of déjà-vu, nothing he was utterly lost.

Fear suddenly ignited within his frame as the sweat trickled down his pale skin, he tried to cry out, nut no sound escaped his parched lips he was utterly alone in this nightmare. He tried again and again, hoping that his voice might be retrieved by sheer force of will;

'Where am I?' he spluttered as he whispered, hoping someone might here his call, but his voice as back and for one fleeting moment the pain pressing onto his chest was relieved by a fluttering inch of hope.

'Here'

The voice spoke in a strange tone, one that might have frightened him if he had not heard it before. He searched around himself trying to find the owner of the voice, but no image came forth in this darkened world.

'Where is 'here?'' he tried again, hoping to find answers.

Something grasped his arms and turned him around so he could be face to face with his attacker. He felt all the blood cold from his face as his eyes grasped the image of green eyes, red hair and a beard.

'Hell' the voice whispered into his ears as the demon image evaporated into the abyss.

"What exactly are we doing?" Dave asked as his friend unlocked the door to the Superstar locker rooms. After his companion had caused some disturbance at the pub earlier that day they had both decided to find out what was wrong with the Undertaker. Although being dragged out of bed at one in the morning, was not exactly what Batista had had in mind.

Chris, it seems had somehow convinced Teddy Long to lend him the keys to the locker rooms and they were now, under the protection of darkness trying to gain entry, although Chris was struggling with his torch.

"We are breaking into the men's locker room to check out someone's locker!" the wolverine barked as he slapped the torch once or twice to get the light going again, he swiftly entered the dark room before the light could die out again.

"And this someone, obviously, being Mark's"

"Ye think?" was the sarcastic reply.

The room they had entered was actually only temporary until the managers got the separate lockers done for the Superstars, but until then they had to make do with cramped up compartments with barely enough room for their shoes!

Chris stuffed his torch back into his bag, before switching on the light and began searching the name tags for the right one. There were hundreds of them! It was almost impossible to believe there were so many superstars.

Batista was scanning the name plates as well, but Mark's name just didn't seem to be coming up. It was as he reached the last row of lockers when he spotted the name at last. He didn't know why, but for some strange reason the locker felt… different, much the same Mark had felt back on the plane. His gaze was directed at another locker, but he couldn't see a difference between the two.

'Must be my imagination' he thought before calling out to Benoit;

"Found it!"

Chris ran over to the Animal and practically skied to a halt in front of the Phenom's locker. "Good work!" the wolverine said and hastily began dialling the code for the lock.

"You know the code to Mark's personal locker?" Batista was positively shocked; he never knew Benoit had such a mean streak in him!

"Yeah, got off him when he was totally pissed at a bar," he casually mentioned as he worked on the lock.

"Mark doesn't drink."

"No, but slipping a roofie into his lemonade really changed his moral standards" the lock popped open and they both looked inside. It was an absolute pig-sty, it was littered with crumpled papers and old magazines, pictures of his Harley lined the door, but no pictures could be found of his wife, or his children.

"I don't believe this!" Benoit scraped some of the papers out of the compartment, they tumbled to the floor "We haven't even been here for a week and look at this mess!" Chris moaned.

"Alright, what are we looking for?" Dave asked as his friend began to rummage through magazines and rubbish that was stacked in the small compartment.

"Anything…" Chris muttered continuing his assault on the Deadman's locker. The rummage continued for a few minutes and Batista was getting bored when his friend suddenly tossed a bunch of crumpled up papers at him.

"Hey!" Batista barked glaring at Benoit.

"Start searching through those, there's more in here," Chris stated as he started unrolling papers. Chris seemed very focus, his eyes scanning the papers with swiftness and efficiency and Dave knew that his companion was far môre determined now than ever before.

Batista rolled his eyes and unrolled the papers. Most of them were notes like; get chopper oiled, or need new headache pills and even never drink with Benoit again! Batista cocked an eyebrow, but did not comment.

"He loves making notes, doesn't he?" Benoit said as he settled himself on the floor, easing the weight off his aching feet.

"Seems like it,"

This continued for what felt like ages and it almost seemed they were getting no where fast until;

"Hey, Dave!" Benoit called "Come look at this…."

The Animal obliged and walked over to his companion, leaning carefully over his shoulder. His eyes focussed on the item in his friends hand; it was a crumpled up piece of newspaper, but what made it unique was the hand-writing of Mark, which blemished the typed paper;

He doesn't leave me, I wish he would, he's going to hurt someone, but I wish he'd hurt me, he's coming again I can't stop him….

Someone help me….

Dave Batista felt his heart stop in his chest. 'Help me, please,' the words came back to haunt him as he stared at the words scribbled on the papper. What was going on with Mark? Was that dream he had on the plane real? Or was it just a sub conscious thing that just accidentally happened on the plane?

There were too many questions and so little answers that Batista gave up lingering on the subject.

"This is bad…" Batista broke the awkward silence.

"No, shit Sherlock…" Chris said and started to shove the other papers back into the locker.

"What do we do now?" he, Dave knew it was a question they had both been dreading. What indeed, should they speak to Mark? Should they go to the police instead?

"He's asking for help, Batista" Chris did not miss a beat as he continued shoving the papers back into the locker; he seemed to be quite flustered.

"Yes, but the note was placed in his locker, which means he had no intention for anyone to find it! This means he doesn't want help!"

"But he's asking…" Benoit couldn't look Batista in the eyes for some reason. Dave sighed and placed his strong arm around Benoit shoulders. Benoit looked up at him and for one moment Dave felt sympathy to his friend as he suddenly realised how much this was affecting the Canadian wrestler. The Animal didn't know what to do, he really wanted to help Mark, he wanted to find out who murdered his wife and get the Deadman back on track, but there was one thing that was holding him back; privacy.

He had always been a man for privacy and breaking into someone's locker and snooping around was the exact way of destroying that morale. But perhaps sometimes you needed to give morale standards the perpetual boot, especially when one of your friends is hiding a murder.

"I know…" he sighed again as if making a decision, "And we'll help him. But,"

He lifted his hand to stop Benoit from getting his hopes up, "We first need to find out more, before we approach him. That way we have something to back it up with."

Benoit nodded, but his hope turned to worry as the cogs started to turn in his head, "But where will we find more? This is all we've got…"

"If he's written once, then he'll probably have somewhere he writes frequently…." Batista smiled slightly at this.

"Like a journal?"

"Bingo!"


Once again, insecurites are taking over and I must admit; not too much happened in this chapter, if ye didn't like it... well there wasn't and alternative so all I can at this stage is... tell it to the judge!

Kidding!

If it was really terrible then let my docter now and he will scedual and apoitnment for you to come and visit me at the VA, although I doubt I will be able to respond seeing as they will probably sedate me for my own safety (and yours)

Yours insanely

Golumfryingeggs