A/N: I may be updating slower, but I'm updating. Slowly I'll finish this story. Thank you DashingsDestiny, therealchamps, debbbrown1, ChainGangHottieWithKillerLegs, my time is now, XxBeautyFairytaleOfJorrieXx and babygurl-x for reviewing the previous chapter. I apologize for the spelling and grammar mistakes. As you already know, English isn't my first language.

Enjoy it! ;)


Insidious

Chapter Seven - Losing the Grip

- So, I'm going to get the car. Do we meet outside? - John Morrison asked. His long-time girlfriend, Melina, nodded and then walked to the bathroom. She had forgotten her lipstick there after retouching her make-up.

The dinner Trish and Randy hosted was over. It was barely past one of morning, but a demanding schedule with early fights didn't allow the WWE employees to have long nights of fun. At the moment, most of the wrestler and Divas had already left to their respective hotels - the hosts weren't anywhere to be seen already.

The Latina walked into the bathroom. With luck no one had taken it. The dark red lipstick was one of her favourites. She had bought it during one of the annual WWE overseas visits.

- Damn it - she mumbled when she was unable to find the lipstick on the washbasin. How could she have forgotten it, to begin with? Maybe it had fallen to the floor, a voice inside her head whispered.

Knelling - her mind kept yelling at her how disgusting it was -, the wrestler looked for the lipstick on the floor. Unfortunately, the only thing she was able to find was a cell phone on the floor of one of the stalls.

Without taking a second, Melina stood up and opened the door of the stall. Picking up the electric device, the woman unblocked the phone which was vaguely familiar. The screensaver revealed an image of Candice Michelle and her husband.

A smile flourished on Melina's lips. She clearly wasn't the only Diva forgetting something in the bathroom. Hours of non-stopping work were responsible for their distracted minds. They spent almost a year on the road - and a year on the road was like three years of a regular job.

Perhaps it was better to take the cell phone with her and deliver it to Candice, the Latina thought to herself. She wasn't sure if she had seen Candice at the dinner a few hours ago... well, she reminded seeing her for a brief moment after the main course. Or didn't she? However, the Diva had been so distracted imagining her own wedding - not that Morrison had proposed yet; and, as far as she was aware of, he didn't have plans to do it any time soon - and feeling worried about Mickie - she called to the brunette after her unexpected exit, but never received an answer - that she couldn't be sure of anything.

Without giving a second thought to it, Melina walked out of the bathroom with Candice's phone. There was still a long ride to the hotel. But not long enough to delay dreadful news.


- What happened? - Trish queried, twisting her body around, moving her hazel eyes from the view offered by the room on the thirteenth floor. The blonde Diva had heard the bedroom door being opened and locked with a slam. Randy's facial expression was sombre. Something really serious must have occurred while they were out.

At first, the Canadian thought it was a robbery when saw so many police officers at the hotel lobby. But soon, she began to understand that something very grave had happened. Her fiancé told her to go to their room while he figured out the reason that everyone was with watery eyes and gloomy expressions.

The tall man sat on the mattress. The petit blonde quickly walked towards him and took a sit at his side. There was so much more going on than what they could understand.

- Mickie had an accident. She was using the hotel stairs. It seems she tripped. She broke her neck, Trish.

A speechless Trish stared at Randy. Had he just told her that Mickie James had passed away? But she had just seen the brunette at her dinner. How could she be dead? How could she be dead now? Life is fragile, but it can be so delicate. One moment Mickie was living and the following moment she had given her last breath. It couldn't be real.

Before another word could be exchanged, a knock on the door echoed through the bedroom. The couple exchanged a look before Randy rose to his feet and moved to the door. As soon as, the tall man opened the door, the Massachusetts native flew into the room. The distress expression on John's face stopped Randy from reprehended him because he entered in the room without authorization.

- Is everything okay? - Trish asked, noticing, as Randy, the serious expression on John's face. Was it because of Mickie James? The petit blonde was aware of the way the death woman felt about John - probably everyone was aware of it but the man that she had feelings for. Did John finally find something about it?

- Have you heard about Mickie? - Randy queried, trying to understand the reason his best friend was so distraught.

- I was at the reception when the paramedics were taking her away. - It didn't feel right saying "taking her body". She was alive just a few hours ago. Her dead body was probably still warm.

- Why are you so obsessed then? - Randy did another question. The Massachusetts native's behaviour wasn't ordinary.

John took off from his jacket pocket the box with the engagement ring. He threw it to Randy's hand, who swiftly grabbed it. Opening the box, the third-generation Superstar saw an engagement ring - a platinum ring with a heart shaped diamond. Randy looked from the ring to John and then back to the sparkly ring. The third-generation wrestler remembered seeing the engagement ring previously. He had bought it with his best friend two years ago a few months before Torrie's death. He had seen John placing it on Torrie's grave after her funeral. How could John have it back? Did the blue-eyed man pick up the ring when he turned his back?

- How did you get this? - Randy queried, feeling as surprise as John when he first laid his eyes on it. Weird things were going on. Things were just getting weird and more difficult to understand as the time passed by.

- I found it in my hotel bedroom - the older man answered, keeping the rage inside himself. At any second he would allow the wrath to take over him. He was so tired of being left in the dark.

The Massachusetts native couldn't stop asking himself how the ring showed up in his bedroom. He had left it behind after Torrie was buried. He turned his back and left the ring in her grave. He hadn't been able to give it to Torrie in life because she had been brutally murdered before he did, but he did give her it in death.

So many questions were running through his mind and none of those interrogations had an answer - or then a plausible answer. The only person who could satisfy his curiosity - even if it was only a little bit - denied herself the truth. The woman was so soaked up in guilt and fear that kept herself in the dark.

He had run to Stacy's bedroom after finding the ring in his bedroom. That engagement ring had been the last drop of water. After two years, John had lost his patience. He wasn't going to be careful with his words anymore. He would persist on the matter until she told him everything. Nevertheless, he knocked at the door time after time without an answer. He ended up smacking the door and calling out Stacy. The other hotel guests opened their bedroom door to see what was going on at the hall, but the blonde woman never answered.

Could she have just had left? Mickie's death brought up old memories; wounds were open again - of course after Stacy's behaviour that night, he was sure that those wounds had never closed. Was Stacy so shacked up that walked away without giving a notice?

Without being sure of where his feet were taking him, the blue-eyed man found himself out his best friend's room ready to explode at any second.

- You were the only person who knew about it. - The accusation was all over his voice. The fury inside the wrestler was seconds away from erupting.

- Are you saying that I did it? That for some odd and crazy idea I put it in your bedroom? I let the ring where you put. I never touched it.

- Guys, what is going on? - Trish moved her eyes from her fiancé to John. The exchange of words between the two wrestles was impossible to comprehend. About what ring were they talking?

- I don't know what to think anymore - John mumbled between his teeth. His life was turned upside down. Everything used to make sense until Torrie's death. After it, his world just became a big mess. If he could only get some answers...

Trish stood up and moved her feet to get closer of her soon-to-be husband and John. She finally caught a glance of the ring and realized that it was an engagement ring. Why were they fighting about it?

- Can you two explain to me what is going on? - The petit blonde was confused. Their reactions weren't making any sense. One of their co-workers was dead and now her fiancé and his best friend were arguing because of an engagement ring. - Why are you so obsessed over an engagement ring?

- I left it at Torrie's grave two years ago and now I've just found it in my bedroom - John explained the unexplainable. Trish raised her eyebrow. - I didn't pick it up. Randy didn't pick it up. Someone must have done it and two years later put it in my bedroom. Who could have done it?

None of them spoke. Their minds came to the same conclusion. The answer was so terrifying that neither pronounced. The truth could be a lot more intimidating than being kept in the dark.

A knock at the bedroom door interrupted the conversation. Saved by the bell, Trish thought. The path the conversation was following was a dangerous one. Could the killer be among them?

The petite blonde opened the door. Her features got white. Her hands started shaking.

- John...- she stuttered, uncertain of what her eyes were seeing.

The man in question swerved his eyes to the bedroom entrance. A body rushed to him and then hugged him. No words came out of his mouth. John looked like he had seen a ghost. And, in a matter of fact, he had truly seen a ghost. The woman that wrapped her arm around him was no other than Torrie Wilson.

Two years and one day after her death, Torrie Wilson had returned from the death. And, she wasn't alone.


"Feeling a major headache, Stacy opened her eyelids. She was waking up from a slumber. The darkness surrounded her. It took a few minutes for her eyes to get used to the obscurity. The first image she saw was Torrie lying on the floor motionless.

Looking around, she realized that was trapped inside an old and dusty wood cabin. It was the reason that the hard rain and the wind had stopped. Nonetheless, she would rather be under the heavy rain than locked in a house in only God knows where and without anywhere to go. The person that attacked her and Torrie couldn't be far away.

She crawled to her best friend's side. It seemed the honey blonde wasn't breathing and it scared her. Her friend couldn't be dead. The energy of her body has been drained and it was the reason Torrie was so quiet.

- Torrie - she whispered and touched the other woman's arm. A tear ran from Stacy's eyes. Torrie didn't respond to her touch. She was just lying there motionless.

- I thought you would never wake up - an unknown voice exclaimed. A shadow had been staring at her all the time and she hadn't noticed it. Step-by-step, the figure got closer of the younger blonde. - You and I are going to have some fun.

She swerved her eyes from the hurt woman to the abductor who was hidden by the darkness. A white pearl smile shone in the middle of the dark. A shiver ran through her spine. She should run away, but her legs didn't have the strength to support her body and her mind wasn't willing to leave Torrie behind.

A hand grabbed her by the wrist. When she returned her attention to Torrie, the honey blonde's eyes were opened. Drops of blood fell from them. An evil smile was etched across her face. The honey blonde guffawed. The younger Diva pushed Torrie away.

Stacy crawled behind until her body clashed against a broken chair. The broken wood scratched her arm. She couldn't discern what was really going on. Her mind was clouded. Everything was a foggy image where the truth and the untruth were mixed.

- Aren't you having fun? - the voice didn't resemble to the one that belonged to Torrie. It seemed the body had been possessed by an evil spirit. But then every single sound wasn't making sense to her. Everything was simply surreal.

The older woman gracefully put herself back to her feet and sauntered to Stacy. The dark figure was inches away from the honey blonde. At any moment, he could grab Torrie.

- Look out - Stacy mumbled, fearing that he would hurt Torrie. However, her friend laughed one more time. It was as if the blonde woman didn't see or feel the dark figure behind her. Stacy didn't understand what was happening. Had she died? Was this hell? Was she being punished by her earthly mistakes?

With a sadist smile, the honey blonde caught Stacy's wrist. Torrie's grip became stronger and the younger woman felt her wrist cracking. An agonizing pain was felt all over her mistreated body. In that same moment, someone grabbed a fist of her hair. How did the dark figure appear behind her? Wasn't he just at her front a few seconds ago? Trapped between her best friend and a maniac, Stacy didn't have how to run away.

- You and I are going to have some fun - someone said. She didn't discern who had spoken. The energy in her body was fading away once again.

The figure smelt Torrie's hair. I seemed their hands connected. A knife appeared on Torrie's hand. At a snail's pace, the two approximated the razor-sharp item from her neck..."

Stacy woke up jumbled, finding difficult to breathe. Her lungs felt as they were being crushed by an invisible force. Opening her eyelids, the blonde woman felt dizzy. Her stomach begged her to throw up. The smell of ether was still impregnated in her skin.

Second by second, Stacy started remembering that she had been attacked in her hotel bedroom. She was trying to leave the room to talk with the police officers when someone jumped from the closet and attacked her. A cloth soaked with ether was the reason she was feeling so ill.

The darkness prevented her of getting a clear view of her surroundings. Not even her figure she was able to discern! There wasn't a single light to guide her. Where was she? Was she alone? How had she gotten there?

The former Diva tried to get up, but while trying to move she felt something on her left ankle. It was holding her. With her hands, the blonde travelled to her ankle to figure out what was stopping her from being on her feet. It was a cold metal. The chain of metal was locked with a padlock. The knot was so tight that her ankle was feeling very sore. Stacy could even swear that around her ankle there was blood. The metallic chain didn't allow her to stand up; it didn't allow her to run away from her prison.

Her heart started racing. It was the third time in less than twenty-four hours - at least, Stacy thought she hadn't been unconscious for more than a day - that the blonde felt that she was having a panic attack. Her mind screamed this couldn't have been caught once again. She was weak human being.

All those emotions she experienced two years ago were rushing back. The same feelings had returned. The same sensations had returned. The awe was slowly freezing her body. Stacy had returned to the hell that she had unconsciously forgotten two years ago.

There she was once again locked in the dark, but this time her best friend wasn't there with her. Torrie had been murdered two years ago and now it was her turn. Destiny had caught her two years later. She wasn't going to be able to escape this time - why did she escape the first time? It was her time to leave the world of the living. Perhaps her death would put an end to all this craziness - the killer would commit a mistake this time and Williams would catch him. Perhaps her death would protect those she loved and cared about. It had to protect them!

Tears fell from her hazel eyes. She was useless. She was trapped once again and she was useless. Curled, leaning against a chilly wall, the troubled blonde cried until her tears dried.