Chapter 11

Mark stalked slowly to the ring to the roar of the capacity crowd. Brock Lesnar stood inside the ring, not an ounce of fear showing on his face. Paul Heyman stood safely outside the ring. Mark entered the ring, not once taking his eyes off his opponent. Mark removed his long trench coat and hat as his music ceased. The ring announcer addressed the crowd.

"The following contest is scheduled for one fall and it is the For All Or Nothing match. And it is for the WWE World Heavyweight Championship. Introducing first, he is the WWE World Heavyweight champion, Brock Lesnar!"

*Boooooo*

"And his opponent, the challenger, from Death Valley, weighing in at 299 pounds, The Undertaker!"

The crowd erupted in a roar of cheers. The men and women of the locker room gathered around tv monitors backstage.

The ref held the title above his head for the audience to see, then passed it off to the times keeper outside the ring. The bell ran signaling the beginning of the match. Mark and Brock stood toe-to-toe in the middle of the ring. Their eyes met intensively. Neither man said a word. Both men had waited a long time for this moment.

Brock threw the first blow, an open-handed slap; a sign that Brock was and would not be intimidated. The sound of the slap sounded throughout the arena. The impact of an open palm to Undertaker's left cheek sent him to one knee.

"How did that feel...Mark?" Brock taunted.

Mark shook the cobwebs off as he rose to his feet. He gazed at Brock as he massaged his sore cheek. The tip of his tongue felt the cut on his lower lip. Blood; how he loved the taste of his own blood. It was an adrenaline rush for him. It made him chuckle sadistically. Mark balled up his fist and slugged Brock right in the mouth, causing him to collapse to both knees.

"How did that feel...boy?"

Brock used the back of his gloved hand to wipe the blood from his mouth. Brock spit blood to the mat as well as a couple of his teeth. A crimson smirk appeared on Brock's face as he faced Mark again. As if the slap wasn't disrespectful enough, Brock spit blood on Mark's shirt. That did it.

With a loud growl, Mark charged and tackled Brock to the mat. The match was officially on. The two men rolled on the mat until Mark picked Brock up to his feet and threw him viciously to a corner of the ring. Mark unloaded with punches and kicks. Brock quickly reversed it, hitting Mark with punched and kicks of his own.

The match went back and forth. Punched, kicks, suplexes, submission holds, chair shots, just an all-out brawl; a slobber-knocker. Cuts and bruises were visible on Mark's and Brock's face.

The opportunity had finally come for Mark to grab Brock for a Tombstone Piledriver. He drove Brock's head into the mat. He got the cover for just a two count. Mark reached down and brought Brock to his feet for another Tombstone Piledrive. He lifted Brock up again, only to have Brock reverse it. He lifted Mark upon his shoulder, then tossed him to the mat with an F-5. Brock went for the cover but only got a 2 count.

"HIT HIM AGAIN!" Paul shouted from ringside.

Brock lifted Mark on his shoulders for a second F-5 and connected with it. 1, 2, kickout. At this point, the crowd was sitting at the edge of their seats as they gasped loudly. Brock rose to his feet in shock. Paul called Brock over to the side of the ring. Paul handed a lead pipe to Brock. He looked at the weapon possessed. Brock turned to see Mark slowly rising to his feet. Brock gripped the pipe in both hands and took a swing as Mark turned towards him. The pipe connected with Mark's ribs sending him to the mat favoring his midsection.

Mark groaned loudly and coughed trying to catch his breath. He curled up into a ball on the mat. The crowd booed loudly adding of chants of 'Lesnar sucks! Lesnar sucks!'

Brock walked over as Mark attempted to rise to his hands and knees. Brock delivered a hard kick to Mark's ribs rolling him across the mat. More painful groaning escaped Mark's mouth. Brock walked over and rolled Mark onto his back. Brock took the pipe in both hands and pressed down with the pipe against Mark's windpipe. Brock attempted to choke the life out of his opponent. Mark gagged, and coughed, struggling to break free.

"Give it up, Mark," Brock said. "Just give up. You don't have what it takes to beat me. You will never beat me. I will always win...always...win."

Mark spoke in a whisper.

"What did you say," Brock asked.

"I said..." Mark struggled to say louder as the pipe was still pressed against his throat. "That's...what...you...think."

Brock looked at Mark confused as a smirk appeared on Mark's face.