And now...we come to 'Taker's torment. I had a hell of a time trying to figure out what he feared, but then it hit me out of nowhere like a ton of bricks. (laugh) Seriously, I was sitting in class, and it was like, BAM, and then I rushed to my room to write it when the class was over. I actually wrote this chapter before any of the other phobias...So, yeah...when it hits, it hits hard, lol.
Hope it's not too out there for you all...But I think you'll like it. I put myself in 'Taker's shoes, and thought, 'Wow, that really would be scary! And disheartening. And awful.' So, I kept it. XD
Thanks for all the reads/reviews/favs/alerts and whatever else you're allowed to do! Onto the story!
The Undertaker tumbled forever, it seemed, when, finally, he landed hard on a floor far below where he knew his brother was. He was on his feet in a second, though, looking up at what seemed to be a perfectly normal ceiling.
"Glen!" he called back up, hearing no response, hearing nothing at all. He had no idea where the damn slanting floor was, because the only thing he could see now was a flat surface. "Glen!" Fiercely, he wiped away the tears that threatened to fall. He refused to believe that Glen had been burned again... It was just too cruel.
He looked around for the way up and saw none. In fact, he couldn't see anything in this darkness...
And now Mark's blood ran cold as he realized that he was alone, in the dark, and his time was soon coming.
As he clutched the flashlight to his chest, his mind began to fill with images of all the possible horrors in store for him. He wondered vaguely how the others had died, or if they had found one another...or, better yet, if they found a way out.
'Alright, think,' he ordered himself, breathing deeply. 'There's still time to save Glen and get the fuck out of here...' He shined the flashlight around the room, and saw that it was quite empty. It looked like the basement of the place... 'I just need to find the stairs...then I can get to the upper levels, and maybe out of this...place.'
Feeling slightly more confident, 'Taker began to walk slowly in the darkness, listening for any sounds besides his own footsteps and breathing. As he walked down the hallways, the amount of light seemed to grow, and after a while, he was able to turn off the flashlight and put it in his side pocket. He eventually came to a bend in the hallway, and stopped to think. He considered turning back, but where could he go but forwards? Cautiously, he turned the corner and, when nothing killed him, he continued a few hesitant steps forwards before freezing completely.
There was a large, black casket in the middle of the hallway, designed exactly in the way that he would to design them, complete with locks on the lid and all.
"Oh, hell no," he whispered, backing away from it slowly and carefully. He didn't have any specific fears of being buried alive, or trapped in a coffin, but just the same, one look at the thing and there could be no doubt about what it was there for.
Or, rather, who it was there for.
However, as 'Taker backed away, he soon felt himself hit something that was definitely not the wall, but sure as hell could have been as strong as it. He turned slowly, certain that what he hit was a who and not a what, and prepared to defend himself.
At least, he planned on defending himself, that is until he got a good look at the figure, who was as tall as he was. In fact, he had the same green eyes and pale skin. The only difference between him and the figure was the sideways smile.
He was looking at himself.
'Taker's jaw dropped as he stared at the mirror image come to life. But the funny thing was, it wasn't quite him; it was his Lord of Darkness incarnation, standing not an inch away, solid, existing. But something about him was far more sinister than he had ever managed to look. His eyes, though the same shade of green, were without any of their light, and seemed, for lack of a better word, dead.
"How?" 'Taker whispered, eyes widening.
"Long time, no see Mark," his Lord of Darkness self said with a sneer, reaching out to run a hand through the messy strands of his hair. "You look good."
The Undertaker shook his head in disbelief. "How can you...be...?"
The Dark Lord shrugged, but his body barely moved. "The one who invited you here allowed me to return," he said carefully. "Although, I shouldn't say 'allow,' but rather, 'made possible.' She believes that a good 'Horror and Fun' House is 2 parts good mechanics and 1 part dark magic. Hell of a sorceress, that one."
"Magic?"
"Well, you and I wouldn't call it that, but that's the best word for it, I think." The creature smiled. "Kane sensed it eventually, and Shawn could actually sense it the whole time, to our surprise. And yet, you didn't sense it because..."
The Undertaker's eyes widened even more. "Because you...were down here the whole time..." His throat went dry, and he could feel the beginnings of true fear coming over him. "You're actually real," he choked out, shaking his head as if to deny what he had just affirmed.
"As real as you," his other self answered.
'Taker closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, heart pounding hard in his chest. "What...what do you want with me?" he asked hesitantly.
"I've been waiting for you to come back to me," the Lord of Darkness said in a low, seductive voice, beginning to walk forwards. "I thought you were coming back when Vince buried you alive, but no, you managed to keep some control over yourself and not give in to the Darkness completely." A slow smile crossed his face. "I was so disappointed. But now, here we are, together again..."
"I got rid of you...I don't want you again," Mark said weakly, figuring that he'd probably pass out soon enough, and then it'd be over anyway. For every step his other self took forwards he took two backwards. If he couldn't have guessed the creature's intentions already, they were clear in the way he was leering at him.
"I'm not letting you go this time," the Dark Lord said, smiling. "I need to use your body again...I don't technically exist outside of this place." He nodded towards the casket. "You can just go to sleep in there and let me take care of things from now on. We can finish what we started so long ago..."
The Undertaker shoved his other self hard, away from him, with every intention of running for his life. He got about two steps before he felt his own strong grip on his arm, using his own momentum to slam him into the nearby wall. The breath was forced from his lungs as he felt his other self press his body hard against him.
"I was hoping you'd resist," the Lord of Darkness growled, smile never leaving.
'Taker felt his muscles burning, he was trying so hard to shove his other self away again, but it was like pushing against a stone wall. He brought his fist up to punch the Dark Lord, but the demon anticipated it, and grabbed both of 'Taker's wrists, pinning them behind his back. For a moment, all movement stopped.
"You know, since we shared a body before, I never had a chance to do this..." the Lord of Darkness mused as his hand went to the buckle of Mark's pants, unfastening it with ease before roughly groping him through the material. "But I always wanted to."
"No! Don't!" 'Taker gasped, feeling his other self's hands roaming his body, now sliding under his shirt, realizing what was happening. He tried again to push the Lord of Darkness away, but couldn't move him, and tears touched the corners of his eyes as a pair of hard satin lips came crashing down on his, wrists now pinned against the wall. The speed at which his other self was moving made him dizzy, and disoriented, and just plain terrified. He wrenched his head to the side, gasping for air.
"Stop struggling, or I'll tie you up," the Dark Lord threatened, green eyes flashing dangerously. "You think it's bad now? If I have to get out the chains, you'll wish you were never born."
'Taker stopped moving, head dropping. He knew that whenever he made a threat like that, he meant it, and every word. And, knowing himself well, he could already imagine the ways in which he could make himself wish that he was never born. Hell, he was already wishing that now.
The Lord of Darkness nodded with approval, seeing his prey cease his futile struggling. "Good," he said with a short laugh. "You're still smart, at least." He put his hands on Mark's hips, pulling their bodies together. "Now, just be still, and when I'm done, you can sleep in the casket, and there won't be anymore pain..." He slowly unbuttoned Mark's shirt and slid it down his muscular arms, smiling as he noticed the man shivering.
"Well isn't that precious?" he smirked, tracing his finger along the tattoo on 'Taker's stomach. "You're afraid of me."
"I'm not afraid of you," 'Taker whispered in response, and then, with no warning, kicked his other self right in the groin, taking off in a sprint as the Lord of Darkness cursed him.
The Undertaker ran down the hall, back the way he had come, past where he had landed, but couldn't find any way out. He could see now, with the fading flashlight he had turned on as he ran, that the room and hallways had the general design of a maze, and his steps eventually slowed until he was standing still. With a sinking feeling he realized that there were no doors, no windows, no stairs...no way out.
He was trapped down here with himself.
Dying suddenly didn't seem so bad compared to what was coming.
"Maaaaarrrrrk," he heard the Lord of Darkness call in an inappropriately kind, sing-song voice, obviously not very far away and coming closer by the second. "You can't hide from me...and when I find you..."
The unspoken threat hung heavily in the absolute silence. 'Taker, trembling, backed up against a wall and slid down it into a sitting position. He flicked off the light, not wanting to give away his position, trying to buy as much time as he could before the inevitable happened. He pulled his knees up to his chest and lowered his head, letting a few tears slip from his eyes, certain that more would follow when he was found. He thought about his wife and daughters. God, would they be safe? Would the realize that it wasn't him when his body came home with that monster inside? Would his Lord of Darkness self hurt them? And would he, Mark, be dead? Or would his soul be trapped inside, unable to stop his other self from...
"I can't hear you running anymore, Mark! What's wrong? Realize that you're in a maze yet? Or have you just accepted the fact that I can see you clearly in this darkness, and there's no point in running anyway? Your green eyes are so beautiful and bright when you're terrified, by the way."
'Taker closed his eyes and covered his ears with his hands. 'Alright, he sees me now,' he thought, feeling a fresh pulse of fear along with growing despair, heart pounding all the more. 'It'll be over quickly...Please God, let it end quickly.' He thought about how hard it had been to make this being, born from the darkness of his soul and a bad decision, at last release him when he wanted to be free. It had been battle of souls...and he had won. He had freed himself from the Lord of Darkness. He had exorcised that Demon.
Or so he thought. Now, all of that was for nothing, it seemed...and he was once again going to become a puppet to that bastard. Just when he was sure that he was truly free...
Tears of frustration fell from his tightly shut eyes as he heard hurried footsteps come to a halt directly in front of him. For a long time, nothing happened.
"Undertaker?!" a familiar voice said, and 'Taker opened his eyes wide with surprise.
"Hunter?!"
Hunter? Hunter! XD
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