Standard Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters used in this story (Kane doesn't know what he's missing). They are owned by the WWF. I am making no money from this little piece of drivel. There is no need for a lawsuit.
Lost Brother II
Kane looked up as he heard a loud groaning sound, noticing for the first time a slowly growing sliver of light breaking up the darkness of the room into which he had awakened. Then, what Kane now realized was the door to the room, opened completely and the space was flooded with light, causing Kane to blink his eyes in pain. It took several moments for his eyes to adjust to the light, but when they had they widened in shock at what he saw.
Standing before him, on the other side of the thick iron bars that kept him prisoner in the cell he was in, were Hunter Hearst Helmsley, Stone Cold Steve Austin, and Vince McMahon, one of whom had placed a miners' lantern on an old iron hook on the wall opposite the door while Kane had still been blinded.
"Wha...?" he blurted out in surprise, causing Austin and McMahon to chuckle. HHH remained as he was, standing slightly off to the side and glaring darkly at Kane.
"What the matter, Kane?" Vince asked, "Don't tell me that shot to the head destroyed what little remained of your brains."
"What's going on, Vince?" Kane asked Vince, trying to figure out why his boss was, from all indications, holding him captive. "Why are you keeping me here?"
"That's Mr. McMahon to you," Vince replied, evilly glaring at Kane. "And as for why I am keeping you captive, well let's just say I'm planning on making your brother's life absolutely miserable, and your 'death' was the first step in doing so."
"My death?!" Kane shouted. "What are you talking about?"
"Listen carefully Kane," McMahon replied, "I'll speak slowly an try to use small words, so maybe you can understand me. After attacking you in the parking lot, Hunter brought you here. Steve, however, had another task. He took your car and drove it to a nearby bridge. Then, placing the body of a...volunteer...we found of similar size and body type as you behind the wheel, he rigged the car to run through the guardrail and into the ravine below, where it exploded, destroying the body inside it to the point where physical identification was impossible. Thus, the police concluded...and dear Undertaker was told, that his brother had lost control of his car in the bad weather and had gone off the bridge, dieing immediately."
Kane was speechless for a moment as the sheer magnitude of what had been done hit him, then he protested, "but even if the body was too badly burned to be identified, comparing dental records would have proven it wasn't me in the car."
"Very good, Kane," Vince applauded, "I'm surprised you actually thought of that. You're right of course, the man who examined the dental records did find that it hadn't been you in the car. Then he found five hundred thousand dollars in his bank account, and decided to keep his discovery to himself."
"You bastard!" Kane roared, "Why are you doing this? What could you possibly have against Mark that would merit this?" he asked, still clueless as to what Vince was hoping to accomplish or why. Mark had always been a star employee of the WWF. What was Vince possibly thinking?
"What do I have against him?!" Vince roared, his mood changing like the flick of a switch as rage colored his face and his eyes began to bulge, "What do I have against the Undertaker?! He turned his back on ME! No one does that. He served ME...he led the Ministry as I commanded...and then he had the audacity to QUIT! As if it were that simple! As if I would let him just walk away from MY service!"
"What?" Kane protested, terror starting to grip him as he realized he was not dealing with a sane man. "This is all for show. You know that. None of it is real! It's just an act!"
"Simple fool," McMahon sneered, "this is no act...no game. It is very real. Your brother understood that. He KNEW what he was getting into when he joined my Corporate Ministry...and he still betrayed me, joining the side of that bitch I married. No, this is no act. The Undertaker will rue the day that he EVER crossed Vincent K. McMahon. I will take everything that he loves, I will break his spirit, and then I will take his life!"
"You're insane!" Kane cried, fear for his brother nearly overwhelming him as he understood the depths of Vince's obsession and madness for the first time. "That's cold-blooded murder! You'll never get away with it!"
"I AM VINCENT K. MCMAHON!" Vince roared. Then his voice suddenly turned smug as he said, "Trust me, I will never see the inside of a jail cell."
Then the owner of the WWF left the room, being followed by Austin. HHH walked over to the wall where the lantern hung and, lifting it from the hook, he too started out the door.
"Vince really is mad you know, Hunter," Kane told the man, who paused briefly and turned to face Kane, the flickering lantern causing a strange play of shadows and light on his features. "Why are you going along with this plan of his? Thinking the WWF is real?! Hunter, that man needs psychiatric help."
"What do you expect me to do, Kane?" Hunter asked heatedly. "In case you haven't noticed, that man holds my career in the palm of his hand. Vince has been good to me. I turn on him, and it's back to being a mid-carder."
"Is your success really worth this?" Kane replied, "Worth encouraging the delusions of a madman? Worth being an accessory to murder?!"
"My success is worth everything and anything," HHH told him, though there was a troubled look on his face as he turned around once again and exited the room. The large iron door ominously slammed behind him, leaving Kane in total darkness.
"Be strong, my brother," Kane whispered, hoping against hope that somehow Taker would hear him, "be strong...and beware."
************************************************
The Undertaker had finally managed to bring his tears under control, though now he just felt an incredibly numbness. Kane was gone. Then a thought hit him like a bullet to the chest...if he hadn't have insisted that Kane get treated for his arm...if he hadn't left his brother alone at the arena...Kane might still be alive. His little brother was dead...and it was his fault. The tears, which Taker had thought long dried up, once again flowed down his cheeks as he rocked his body on the couch, his arms crossed tightly across his chest.
It was all his fault.
************************************************
Midnight came, and found the Undertaker passed out on the couch, exhausted from the emotional turmoil he had faced since learning that morning of Kane's death. A soft click was heard, as if someone had used the card key to unlock the hotel door, and the door's knob began to slowly turn. Into the room crept Austin, a tape player in his hand. He quietly made his way over to the couch on which the Undertaker slept fitfully and pressed 'play'. Then he put the machine under the couch and took a seat in a nearby chair to watch the fun, being sure that the ear plugs Vince had given him that were specially designed to block out the subliminal messages of the tape were in place.
************************************************
The Undertaker was once again suffering the same dreams of shadows and despair that had plagued him the night before. Gradually, however, they began to change...the shadows becoming more defined. The Undertaker gasped as his surrounding finally came into focus and he found himself in the burned out skeleton of the house he and Kane had once called home.
Hearing footsteps behind him, the Undertaker whirled only to come face-to-face with the gruesome sight of his brother's ghost. Even though Kane was slightly transparent, Taker could still see signs of the violent death Kane had suffered. Cuts, still oozing blood, covered almost every inch of Kane's skin. His left arm hung at an awkward angle, and a gash stretched across his face from forehead to chin, running through the empty socket where his left eye had been. Dirt and blood were smeared all over his skin and clothing. Worse than all that, though, was the accusing glare he aimed at the Undertaker.
"Kane..." Taker croaked, his heart breaking at the sight of Kane's ghost.
"Undertaker," Kane hollowly intoned, "how could you?"
"How could I what, Kane" Taker asked, "I don't understand."
"You killed me, Mark," Kane replied, "It was because of your insistance that I stayed behind at the arena. But you left, and I had to drive to the hotel alone. Because you couldn't be bothered to wait for me, I died, hurt and alone. My death is your fault, Mark. You alone are responsible."
"Kane, No," the Undertaker protested, "I never meant for anything to happen to you."
"So you claim," Kane told him, "and yet you live and I do not. It wasn't enough for you that you burned my humanity away," Kane said, gesturing to the skeleton of wood that surrounded them, "it wasn't enough that you betrayed and tormented me countless time throughout my life. You had to take my life as well."
"no..." the Undertaker whispered, trying to deny his brothers words. The guilt he felt however, the self-loathing that had haunted him all day, did not allow it.
"Congratulations, brother," Kane sneered as he began to fade away, "you have finally won. You've succeeded. I am dead...and it is your fault."
"Kane, no, come back," the Undertaker begged, but his brother's ghost was already gone, only the haunting echo of his last words remained.
"My fault..." the Undertaker muttered aloud. Steve Austin, who had started to move towards the couch to retrieve the tape player before the Undertaker awoke, paused briefly, at first thinking that the Undertaker was waking up. When he realized that Taker was still trapped in his nightmares, however, a sick smile spread across his face. Grabbing the tape player, he made his way out of the room and silently closed the door behind him. Still smiling, he head back to his own room to sleep the day away before he had to return to the Undertaker's room that night for a repeat performance.
Lost Brother II
Kane looked up as he heard a loud groaning sound, noticing for the first time a slowly growing sliver of light breaking up the darkness of the room into which he had awakened. Then, what Kane now realized was the door to the room, opened completely and the space was flooded with light, causing Kane to blink his eyes in pain. It took several moments for his eyes to adjust to the light, but when they had they widened in shock at what he saw.
Standing before him, on the other side of the thick iron bars that kept him prisoner in the cell he was in, were Hunter Hearst Helmsley, Stone Cold Steve Austin, and Vince McMahon, one of whom had placed a miners' lantern on an old iron hook on the wall opposite the door while Kane had still been blinded.
"Wha...?" he blurted out in surprise, causing Austin and McMahon to chuckle. HHH remained as he was, standing slightly off to the side and glaring darkly at Kane.
"What the matter, Kane?" Vince asked, "Don't tell me that shot to the head destroyed what little remained of your brains."
"What's going on, Vince?" Kane asked Vince, trying to figure out why his boss was, from all indications, holding him captive. "Why are you keeping me here?"
"That's Mr. McMahon to you," Vince replied, evilly glaring at Kane. "And as for why I am keeping you captive, well let's just say I'm planning on making your brother's life absolutely miserable, and your 'death' was the first step in doing so."
"My death?!" Kane shouted. "What are you talking about?"
"Listen carefully Kane," McMahon replied, "I'll speak slowly an try to use small words, so maybe you can understand me. After attacking you in the parking lot, Hunter brought you here. Steve, however, had another task. He took your car and drove it to a nearby bridge. Then, placing the body of a...volunteer...we found of similar size and body type as you behind the wheel, he rigged the car to run through the guardrail and into the ravine below, where it exploded, destroying the body inside it to the point where physical identification was impossible. Thus, the police concluded...and dear Undertaker was told, that his brother had lost control of his car in the bad weather and had gone off the bridge, dieing immediately."
Kane was speechless for a moment as the sheer magnitude of what had been done hit him, then he protested, "but even if the body was too badly burned to be identified, comparing dental records would have proven it wasn't me in the car."
"Very good, Kane," Vince applauded, "I'm surprised you actually thought of that. You're right of course, the man who examined the dental records did find that it hadn't been you in the car. Then he found five hundred thousand dollars in his bank account, and decided to keep his discovery to himself."
"You bastard!" Kane roared, "Why are you doing this? What could you possibly have against Mark that would merit this?" he asked, still clueless as to what Vince was hoping to accomplish or why. Mark had always been a star employee of the WWF. What was Vince possibly thinking?
"What do I have against him?!" Vince roared, his mood changing like the flick of a switch as rage colored his face and his eyes began to bulge, "What do I have against the Undertaker?! He turned his back on ME! No one does that. He served ME...he led the Ministry as I commanded...and then he had the audacity to QUIT! As if it were that simple! As if I would let him just walk away from MY service!"
"What?" Kane protested, terror starting to grip him as he realized he was not dealing with a sane man. "This is all for show. You know that. None of it is real! It's just an act!"
"Simple fool," McMahon sneered, "this is no act...no game. It is very real. Your brother understood that. He KNEW what he was getting into when he joined my Corporate Ministry...and he still betrayed me, joining the side of that bitch I married. No, this is no act. The Undertaker will rue the day that he EVER crossed Vincent K. McMahon. I will take everything that he loves, I will break his spirit, and then I will take his life!"
"You're insane!" Kane cried, fear for his brother nearly overwhelming him as he understood the depths of Vince's obsession and madness for the first time. "That's cold-blooded murder! You'll never get away with it!"
"I AM VINCENT K. MCMAHON!" Vince roared. Then his voice suddenly turned smug as he said, "Trust me, I will never see the inside of a jail cell."
Then the owner of the WWF left the room, being followed by Austin. HHH walked over to the wall where the lantern hung and, lifting it from the hook, he too started out the door.
"Vince really is mad you know, Hunter," Kane told the man, who paused briefly and turned to face Kane, the flickering lantern causing a strange play of shadows and light on his features. "Why are you going along with this plan of his? Thinking the WWF is real?! Hunter, that man needs psychiatric help."
"What do you expect me to do, Kane?" Hunter asked heatedly. "In case you haven't noticed, that man holds my career in the palm of his hand. Vince has been good to me. I turn on him, and it's back to being a mid-carder."
"Is your success really worth this?" Kane replied, "Worth encouraging the delusions of a madman? Worth being an accessory to murder?!"
"My success is worth everything and anything," HHH told him, though there was a troubled look on his face as he turned around once again and exited the room. The large iron door ominously slammed behind him, leaving Kane in total darkness.
"Be strong, my brother," Kane whispered, hoping against hope that somehow Taker would hear him, "be strong...and beware."
************************************************
The Undertaker had finally managed to bring his tears under control, though now he just felt an incredibly numbness. Kane was gone. Then a thought hit him like a bullet to the chest...if he hadn't have insisted that Kane get treated for his arm...if he hadn't left his brother alone at the arena...Kane might still be alive. His little brother was dead...and it was his fault. The tears, which Taker had thought long dried up, once again flowed down his cheeks as he rocked his body on the couch, his arms crossed tightly across his chest.
It was all his fault.
************************************************
Midnight came, and found the Undertaker passed out on the couch, exhausted from the emotional turmoil he had faced since learning that morning of Kane's death. A soft click was heard, as if someone had used the card key to unlock the hotel door, and the door's knob began to slowly turn. Into the room crept Austin, a tape player in his hand. He quietly made his way over to the couch on which the Undertaker slept fitfully and pressed 'play'. Then he put the machine under the couch and took a seat in a nearby chair to watch the fun, being sure that the ear plugs Vince had given him that were specially designed to block out the subliminal messages of the tape were in place.
************************************************
The Undertaker was once again suffering the same dreams of shadows and despair that had plagued him the night before. Gradually, however, they began to change...the shadows becoming more defined. The Undertaker gasped as his surrounding finally came into focus and he found himself in the burned out skeleton of the house he and Kane had once called home.
Hearing footsteps behind him, the Undertaker whirled only to come face-to-face with the gruesome sight of his brother's ghost. Even though Kane was slightly transparent, Taker could still see signs of the violent death Kane had suffered. Cuts, still oozing blood, covered almost every inch of Kane's skin. His left arm hung at an awkward angle, and a gash stretched across his face from forehead to chin, running through the empty socket where his left eye had been. Dirt and blood were smeared all over his skin and clothing. Worse than all that, though, was the accusing glare he aimed at the Undertaker.
"Kane..." Taker croaked, his heart breaking at the sight of Kane's ghost.
"Undertaker," Kane hollowly intoned, "how could you?"
"How could I what, Kane" Taker asked, "I don't understand."
"You killed me, Mark," Kane replied, "It was because of your insistance that I stayed behind at the arena. But you left, and I had to drive to the hotel alone. Because you couldn't be bothered to wait for me, I died, hurt and alone. My death is your fault, Mark. You alone are responsible."
"Kane, No," the Undertaker protested, "I never meant for anything to happen to you."
"So you claim," Kane told him, "and yet you live and I do not. It wasn't enough for you that you burned my humanity away," Kane said, gesturing to the skeleton of wood that surrounded them, "it wasn't enough that you betrayed and tormented me countless time throughout my life. You had to take my life as well."
"no..." the Undertaker whispered, trying to deny his brothers words. The guilt he felt however, the self-loathing that had haunted him all day, did not allow it.
"Congratulations, brother," Kane sneered as he began to fade away, "you have finally won. You've succeeded. I am dead...and it is your fault."
"Kane, no, come back," the Undertaker begged, but his brother's ghost was already gone, only the haunting echo of his last words remained.
"My fault..." the Undertaker muttered aloud. Steve Austin, who had started to move towards the couch to retrieve the tape player before the Undertaker awoke, paused briefly, at first thinking that the Undertaker was waking up. When he realized that Taker was still trapped in his nightmares, however, a sick smile spread across his face. Grabbing the tape player, he made his way out of the room and silently closed the door behind him. Still smiling, he head back to his own room to sleep the day away before he had to return to the Undertaker's room that night for a repeat performance.