A/N: NEW CHAPTER! I apologize; the semester started and I have been mad busy with my thesis and work and all sorts of miscellany. I have to say, this isn't one of my favorite chapters, but hopefully, you all will like it-because that's what's important. Enjoy! Peace!
Thank you to Souless666, rockmyworldx3, Priceless-LegacyGirl, beautifultragedyxxx, Wolfes Groupie, SLSheartsRKO, Aliel Yevrah, BigRedMachineUK, rory 21, and MissMikkiMouse for all your AWESOME reviews! I love you ALL!
Chapter 36: Collateral Damage
The only person you have to blame is yourself...
For once in her miserable life, Candice Michelle had actually gotten it right.
The brunette Diva's smug remark kept replaying over and over again in Ashley's mind, like a length of film looped back onto itself, as she staggered through gorilla. The tiny backstage area, cramped even under normal circumstances, seemed to have shrunk to nearly claustrophobic proportions, with what felt like the entire population of China crammed within its confines. The rookie Diva didn't have to worry about navigating through the crush of people, however; most of them parted to let her pass, backing away from her as though she was somehow infectious and even the slightest contact would transmit her contagion to them.
In truth, Ashley didn't much blame them; after what she had seen out in the ring: the bloodstained canvas, the dried blood under her fingernails, the identical expressions of wary horror on everyone's face...she was beginning to agree with them.
The Diva Search winner gradually stumbled out of gorilla into the back corridors of the arena, but her feelings of disorientation, of dislocation, refused to dissipate. The network of hallways before her had taken on the dizzying complexity of a labyrinth, and each corridor seemed to pitch back and forth, like a rickety bridge swaying in the wind.
Ashley grabbed onto the wall for support, staring down at her booted feet, watching as each one made contact with the concrete floor. Her vision swam with tears, but the rookie Diva forced herself to absorb every detail-the scuffs and scratches on the leather surface, the way the laces were entwined through the eyelets-hoping that with each deliberate footfall, the frantic thud of her heartbeat would eventually slow.
It didn't work; her pulse continued to pound in her ears, and with every step, her insides gave a sickening little lurch, propelling hot sour bile up the back of her throat. Ashley tried to swallow it back down, but the nausea soon proved to be too much. Slumping against a corner of the wall, she vomited, splashing the contents of her stomach onto the floor and narrowly missing splattering her clothes in the process.
Reeling a little, Ashley took a few unsteady paces away from the steaming mess, looking around to see if anyone had witnessed her total lack of bodily control. Thankfully, no one had; the area in front of her led to a dead end, and the stretches of hallway on either side were deserted.
It was into this dead end that the Diva Search winner moved, wobbling shakily on rubbery legs. She only made it a few steps before these, too, gave out, and she collapsed, legs splaying out on either side of her, the cement floor tearing her fishnets and scraping her knees. Ashley sat unsteadily back on her haunches, staring sightlessly ahead, her arms hanging limply at her sides.
I'm sick...the rookie Diva told herself dully. I'm running a temperature, and all this...whatever this is...it's just a hallucination; just a weird-ass fever-dream... But when Ashley tentatively touched her forehead, she found it cool, almost cold, to the touch, her skin coated with a veneer of oily perspiration.
The Diva Search winner wiped it away with some disgust, rubbing her hand roughly on her short plaid skirt, trying to eradicate the slick sensation of her own sweat. Her rib cage felt like it was constricting, as though someone had yanked the laces on her corset top a little too tight, and Ashley was finding it harder and harder to breathe.
Puzzle pieces were coming together in her mind, their final image becoming more and more clear, and the rookie Diva found herself desperately wishing that she could jumble the pieces up and shove them back into the box...because she did not want to see that ultimate picture finally solidify into total clarity. She had a feeling, a wild irrational feeling, that if she gazed upon that final image, with all its hard naked truth, her sense of sanity would shatter and she would go completely insane.
Maybe it's already happened...Ashley thought with a kind of panicked denial. Maybe I'm already insane. That's the only explanation, isn't it? That I'm crazy? That's the only thing that makes sense...because if I'm not crazy, that means that something's happening to me...
Something impossible...
The Diva Search winner tried to giggle, but the laughter died in her throat, its sound emerging as little more than a whimper as the evening's events played through her mind once again, flitting across her brain in a series of flickering stills.
The deep resonate chuckle that had roared up from the back of her subconscious, the sound of it almost demonic...
The blanketing mantle of darkness that followed...
And that voice, little more than a whisper, but one that was most assuredly not her own...
They paid...
Ashley's face abruptly crumpled, and she let out a wail, a low keening sound full of pain and fear. She felt something snap inside her, as though some vital pipeline had just been severed, and the rookie Diva tumbled face-first onto the floor, her strength leaving her. She didn't exactly black out, but she lost enough of her awareness for her mind to settle into a kind of semi-conscious haze.
Ashley wasn't sure how long she actually lay there, but the next thing she knew, someone was holding her shoulders, pulling her gently up into a sitting position. The Diva Search winner could hear her name being uttered, but it sounded far away and echoic, as though the other person was at the other end of a tunnel.
Ashley? Are you all right? Come on, hon, sit up...
With some effort, Ashley lifted her head, expecting to see Maria or Mickie or possibly even Trish...and felt a bolt of genuine surprise slam into her as she found herself staring into the concerned pale blue eyes of Stephanie McMahon.
The rookie Diva struggled a little, embarrassment already threading through her panic. "I didn't mean to-" she blurted out before she could stop herself, inwardly cringing at how much of a hot mess she sounded like at this moment. "I don't know...what happened out there." The words were pouring out of her; there was no point in even attempting to stop their flow. "But it wasn't me; I swear-"
"I know." Stephanie interjected quietly. "It was him."
At this unexpected remark, Ashley's pleas died away into silence, and she stared at the Billion Dollar Princess with a sort of stunned surprise. For the first time, she realized that Stephanie's expression held none of the suspicion or alarm she'd been glimpsing in everyone else's. Instead, the former SmackDown GM gazed back at her calmly with a mixture of concern, sympathy...and oddly enough, understanding.
As though, in some way, she knew precisely what the Diva Search winner was going through.
Stephanie went on. "He spoke to you, didn't he? Out in the ring?" The Billion Dollar Princess hesitated, the next syllables falling from of her mouth carefully, as though she was speaking in a foreign language. "'They...paid.'...Isn't that what he said?"
Ashley's mouth dropped open, and she felt something inside her plummet toward the floor. "How did you-" she began, her voice a startled croak.
The former SmackDown GM's mouth curved up in a half-smile, one that was both rueful and heartbreakingly sad, and her gaze went distant for an instant or two. Her fingers dug a little bit deeper into Ashley's shoulders, and her voice, when she did speak, was just as low and choked as the Diva Search winner's: "Because I heard him, too."
The General Manager's office was empty, and a quick twist of the lock ensured that neither of them would be disturbed. A metal pitcher of ice water sat on the corner of the desk; without speaking, Stephanie picked it up and poured a glass of the cool liquid, handing it to the rookie Diva.
Ashley accepted the glass gratefully, mumbling a barely audible "Thank you", but didn't drink. After what had happened out in the hallway, she was afraid that any liquid, no matter how innocuous, would hit her insides like a shot of battery acid…and the last thing she wanted to do at this point was explain to Eric Bischoff why she had puked all over his rug. Instead, she held the glass protectively behind her palms like a talisman, its chilled surface a soothing balm, taking a seat on one of the room's black leather sofas.
The Billion Dollar Princess poured a glass for herself, and then leaned back against the edge of the desk, her pale blue eyes fixed to the monitor. Together, the two women silently watched the tape of Ashley's bout against Candice, which had been delivered from the production truck at the request of the former SmackDown GM.
The Diva Search winner felt like she was having an out-of-body experience. The small digitized figure on the screen was clearly her—piercings, black streaks, torn fishnets…but at the same time, it was like looking at a stranger. This other Ashley…the way she moved…the way she fought—battering Candice with hard rights, breaking her nose, splitting her lip…lifting the brunette Diva up over her head with ease, even though normally, she barely possessed enough upper body strength to execute a suplex…
Something had been out there with her during the match. Something had been walking around in her skin, wearing her face, screaming in her voice—but it hadn't been her.
And if not her…then what?
On-screen, Candice crawled on her belly toward the ropes, sobbing, her face covered with blood, tears, and snot. As the other Ashley grabbed her by the hair and dragged her back toward the center like a caveman, the rookie Diva finally had to look away, her stomach wrenching painfully. "Turn it off," she managed to say, her tone lifeless and barely controlled. "Turn it off—I don't want to watch any more."
Stephanie shot her a sidelong glance, but wordlessly obliged, picking up the remote and snapping the monitor off. The screen went black, and a deafening silence filled the room. Seconds crept by, lengthening out into minutes, and eventually, the Diva Search winner was the one to break the quiet, clearing her throat and trying to force some measure of calm back into her voice. "What's—" Ashley's voice shook uncontrollably, and she had to pause for a few moments before she was able to go on. "What's…happening…to me?"
The Billion Dollar Princess didn't answer at first; merely raised her glass to her lips and drank her water. From the way she was gulping it down, it was clear that she wished it was something stronger. Stephanie drained the glass with a low sigh, slamming it back down onto the desk. "Isn't it obvious?" She retorted, but there was no sarcasm in her tone; only a kind of regretful bitterness. Her blue eyes bore into Ashley's. "The Undertaker's inside your head."
Just hearing it spoken out loud, hearing her own insane notions corroborated by someone else in such a matter-of-fact tone of voice, sent a surge of relief racing through Ashley's body that was so acute she almost wept.
The Diva Search winner swallowed hard, trying to force back the emotion climbing up her throat. "How—" she began, and then stopped. How did it happen?...had been her intended question, but before the sentence could even emerge fully from her lips, the events of last Tuesday came flooding back to her.
The overhead lights brightening and dimming. The wall of darkness advancing toward her. Randy's frantic cries, telling her to get out of there, to run.
The Deadman's eyes, the iciness of his fingers, the inundation of horrors that accompanied his touch.
And ever since then, the unshakably eerie feeling that no matter how much she isolated herself, she wasn't alone.
Another span of silence stretched out between the two women. Gradually, the rookie Diva cleared her throat, her voice soft and tentative. "What…what do I do now?"
"Do?" The former SmackDown GM stared at her incredulously, as though Ashley had just sprouted wings and flown around the room. A harsh bark of laughter bubbled up from Stephanie's chest, the sound of it just as bitter as her voice. "You can't do anything! This isn't a horror movie; you can't just wave a crucifix around and say 'The power of Christ compels you'!"
The Billion Dollar Princess pushed her slender body away from the desk, pacing across the room as she continued. "Once the Deadman's in your head, he's in there for good, and until he decides to set you free, you're just a meat puppet that he can control any time he wants!" Stephanie stopped, drawing in a deep shuddering breath and pressing the back of her hand to her mouth. She squeezed her lids closed for a second, and Ashley thought she caught the faint glitter of tears in the former SmackDown GM's eyes.
A few moments passed before Stephanie went on, and when she spoke, the rookie Diva could hear the huskiness of unshed tears in her voice. "It's been six and a half years…" the Billion Dollar Princess whispered. In that instant, she looked years younger, like a woman barely out of her teens. "…and yet…he still won't let me go."
Stephanie sucked in another deep breath, almost a sob, and Ashley felt the urge to rise from her seat and give her a hug. She didn't, though; even in this moment of shared solidarity, Stephanie was still her boss. Besides, she sensed that the former SmackDown GM was on the verge of telling her something.
Something, quite possibly, she had never told anyone.
As though she had been reading the Diva Search winner's mind, Stephanie looked back toward her, her brief emotional spurt once more tamped down under some semblance of control. "How much do you know about the Ministry of Darkness?"
The question was so unexpected that for a few moments, Ashley was unable to formulate a response. "Only what I remember watching on television," the rookie Diva eventually replied, setting her water down on the ground.
A ghost of a smile touched the corners of Stephanie's mouth, and then swiftly disappeared. "For the record: most of it was crap, just a bunch of heels running around in black robes pretending to be Satanists." The Billion Dollar Princess hesitated. "Except for him." She shivered, and Ashley felt a mutual one grip her own body. "With him…it was always real…and I don't think any of us realized that—until it was too late." Another pause. "Until he kidnapped me."
Ashley felt her slim frame lock up. Her hand shot out, latching onto the arms of the sofa, gripping until her knuckles flushed white. Stephanie went on. "I've never really been able to remember what happened to me—other than being tied to that giant Undertaker symbol and Stone Cold saving me—and whether it's because of him or because of me, I'm still not sure." She let out another hard grating laugh. "I used to think, after Austin rescued me, that I was free—it wasn't until later that I realized I was never free; that I was still trapped in that boiler room, chained to the goddamn furnace!"
The former SmackDown GM whirled around suddenly, slamming her fist against the wall. Ashley jumped; Stephanie didn't even seem to notice. She was lost in memory, her voice growing faraway as she continued. "Things started happening to me—things I could never explain. I started losing things—losing time, doing things that I would normally never do and having no memory of them. And the whole time…I could hear his voice in my head…taunting me…laughing at me…"
The Billion Dollar Princess pressed both palms against the wall, gazing down at the floor. "I made…a lot of bad decisions during that time. I went a little wild, turned into the world's biggest bitch, married a man that I shouldn't have—and the whole time, I was just trying to keep myself from losing my mind." She slowly shook her head. "It was a long time, a couple years, before I finally got to a place mentally where I could deal with it….and even then, even now…"
Stephanie looked up, staring dully ahead at the wall in front of her. "Sometimes, when I go to sleep at night…I can still hear him whispering to me."
"Why me?" Ashley heard herself say. The rookie Diva sat bolt upright, her spine completely rigid. She managed to relinquish her death grip on the sofa's arm, returning her hands to her lap. "Why is this happening to me?"
Stephanie gradually looked over at her, as though she had completely forgotten that the Diva Search winner was even here. The bitter smile was once more on her lips. "I think you already know the answer to that question." The former SmackDown GM straightened up, moving back toward Ashley. "To scare you, mostly…you and Randy. That's what the Deadman's always been about: fear. By getting inside your head, he's trying to scare you into deserting Randy…and to scare the Legend Killer into losing his focus."
Stephanie shook her head again. "The thing about 'Taker…he only sees the world in black and white. There are no gray areas with him; either you're his enemy or you aren't. And right now—impossible as it may seem—you're his enemy…all because you had the misfortune to fall in love with Randy Orton."
"Why are you telling me this?" Ashley's lips barely moved; her face felt like it was frozen in place.
Sympathy flashed across Stephanie's delicate features, and she abruptly knelt down, taking Ashley's hands in both of hers. "Because you deserve to know exactly what kind of situation you've become involved in." she replied, gently but earnestly. The Billion Dollar Princess averted her eyes for a moment. "Undertaker…he's not human. At least, I don't think he is. Even when he was the Bad Ass, he still wasn't all human, and when he was…buried alive…that part of him…went away."
Stephanie swallowed hard. "It makes sense—he couldn't have survived any other way." Her pale blue eyes were fixed on Ashley's. "But because of that…he doesn't have a conscience. He doesn't feel things like we do—I doubt he feels anything at all. Right now, the only thing that motivates him, the only thing he cares about…is destroying Randy Orton—and if that means destroying you in the process, then he will do it without even blinking."
The former SmackDown GM looked away again; her smile was almost sad. "I was kidnapped because the Deadman had an issue with my father; you're being terrorized because you got involved with the Legend Killer." Her hands tightened around Ashley's. "You and I—we're just…collateral damage…to him. We're nothing more than the accidental casualties of war. And it's nothing personal; it's just…we were there."
The rookie Diva didn't answer for several long seconds. She flicked her gaze down toward her lap, inhaling a long shaky breath. Her lips moved, spitting out the one question she never even would have hinted at with Trish: "What should I do?"
Stephanie stared hard into her eyes, and in that instant, all the barriers between them were stripped away; they were no longer employee and boss, but two equals. "By now, everyone's probably been telling you to run as fast and as far away from Randy Orton as you possibly can." It wasn't really a question, but nevertheless, Ashley answered it with a nod. The Billion Dollar Princess went on. "I'm the one who's going to tell you that it won't do any good. Running away won't change anything. With or without you, Randy's lost…because no matter how hard he tries, you're the one person that he can't push away." The smile reappeared, and for the first time, there was nothing sad or bitter about it. "He loves you…just like you love him."
The silence that followed seemed to stretch out into eternity. Eventually, Ashley gently extricated her hands from Stephanie's grip, rising to her feet. Her dizziness was gone; the world no longer swam around her like some crazy carnival ride. She glanced down at the former SmackDown GM. "Thanks," she murmured. She started to add something else, but found that she couldn't; what could she possibly say after all that? Instead, she maneuvered around the Billion Dollar Princess, heading for the door and exiting out into the hall.
As soon as the tumbler clicked softly back into place, Stephanie let her breath out in a long sigh, bowing her head. "God help you," the younger McMahon whispered. She folded her hands together, pressing them to her lips as though in prayer—even though it had been years since she had prayed.
"God help you both."
Ashley walked slowly down the empty corridor. Her gait had steadied, but she felt weak, utterly drained of energy. The Diva Search winner trailed one hand along the textured cinderblock surface of the wall, her mind replaying her conversation with Stephanie McMahon.
You deserve to know exactly what kind of situation you've become involved in…
Undertaker…he doesn't have a conscience…I doubt he feels anything at all…
The only thing he cares about is destroying Randy Orton…and if that means destroying you in the process…then he will do it without even blinking…
Ashley closed her eyes, the last of Stephanie's words returning to her.
With or without you…Randy's lost…because you're the one person he can't push away…
The rookie Diva stopped, a single tear rolling down her cheek. She could hear her common sense, clamoring in the back of her mind, urging her to start running and not stop until she was far, far away. But Ashley remained rooted where she was, as unable to move as she was to forget about Randy Orton.
If I stay, he'll always have a weakness…the Diva Search winner thought to herself. But without me…he'll fall to pieces. He'll shatter like glass—and I won't put him through that. I'm so terrified right now, over what's happened, over what's going to happen if I stay…but I'm even more scared of what'll happen to him, to us, if I leave…
Ashley's head shot up, her blue-green eyes narrowed to small slits, her beautiful features fixed in a countenance of defiance. "I won't give him up." Her voice was low and tightly controlled. "Do you hear me?"
The hallway was deserted…but the Diva Search winner knew better than to believe that she was alone. "I love him—maybe you can't understand that, but it's the truth." She shook her head. "I don't care what you do to me—I won't give him up."
Ashley stopped, almost expecting a response, but of course there was none. Shooting another fierce glance around, the rookie Diva balled her hands into fists, making her way in the direction of the women's locker room with considerably more confidence and determination than she'd shown less than an hour ago.
For several long seconds, there was nothing…then, out of the stillness, a voice emerged. It was faint and dry, as though the walls themselves were exhaling.
So be it…little girl…