What Could Have Been IX
The Undertaker was lounging in his locker room after Raw had gone off the air. Everything was going according to plan. His Ministry was once again under his control, the other wrestlers were once again learning to fear his name, and the Power Trip was coming to realize what a truly bad idea it was to piss him off. Yes, life was definitely looking up. And without his annoying twit of a brother around to constantly try to 'bring him out of the darkness' it looked like it would stay that way.
// He's not a twit, // a small voice in the back of the Undertaker's head protested, but he quickly and ruthlessly shoved it back down. Kane had turned his back on Taker. He was no longer worthy of Taker's concern...no one was. For too long the Undertaker had worried about being a good brother, about looking out for Kane. And in that time, his dominance of the WWF had suffered. Now it was time to take back what was his. He would be respected. He would be feared. But most of all...he would be Champion.
And woe to anyone who dared to get in his way.
Even Kane.
A hesitant knock on his door broke the Undertaker out of his thoughts. "Come," he ordered, wondering who would dare to disturb him.
"I'm...I'm sorry, sir," a crewman told Taker, sweat beading on the poor man's forehead as he slowly entered the locker room, cordless phone in his hand. "Saint Vincent's Hospital is on the phone for you, sir." Suddenly that small piece of the Undertaker that still cared for his brother gained strength as the man continued. "They say it's about Kane."
Wordlessly, the Lord of Darkness took the phone from the man's shaking hand. His task completed, the crewman quickly left the room. The Undertaker looked after the man, a satisfied smirk on his lips at the man's obvious fear. Then he put the phone to his ear, "Hello," he said into the receiver.
"Mr. Calloway?" a female voice on the other end asked.
"Yes, this is he," the Undertaker replied.
"My name is Nathalie Martin, I'm a nurse at Saint Vincent's Hospital. You might remember me, we met briefly on the night Kane was brought in."
"What is this about, Nurse," Taker brusquely asked. If his rude manner bothered Nathalie, however, he couldn't tell by your response.
"I'm calling about your brother," she told him, "I'm afraid he's taken a turn for the worse."
"I was under the impression that he was expected to do fine," he quietly protested, the worry that was beginning to gnaw at him not apparent in his voice.
"That was the initial diagnosis, yes," Nurse Martin told him, "Unfortunately it now appears that some internal damage was missed in the examination. Kane never complained of being in any discomfort or pain, so no one thought to look again for unknown injuries. We just looked after the ones we had found." She paused briefly to let this information sink in, then continued, "A little over three hours ago, however, Kane went into seizures. When we finally got him stabilized the doctors reexamined him and discovered massive amounts of blood in the chest cavity. Apparently one of his broken ribs nicked an artery during the attack. At first the damage wasn't significant enough for it to be noticed. Since then, however, he has been moving around, increasing the size and severity of the injury, and causing more and more blood to flow into his chest cavity until his collapse today."
"And what exactly does this all have to do with me, miss," the Undertaker asked, struggling now to keep his voice level.
Nathalie sighed in exasperation and said to him, "Sir, your brother is currently in a coma. His condition is deteriorating rapidly, and there is nothing we can do to stop it. If you want to say goodbye before it's too late, I suggest that you get here very soon."
A stunned silence was her only reply. Then the Undertaker said softly, "I'm on my way," and turned off the phone. Sitting in his dark dressing room, the Undertaker felt the anger and hatred that had fueled him for that last several days slowly draining from him.
For the first time he could remember he actually felt his age as his slowly stood up and began packing up his things for the trip to the hospital.
The Undertaker was lounging in his locker room after Raw had gone off the air. Everything was going according to plan. His Ministry was once again under his control, the other wrestlers were once again learning to fear his name, and the Power Trip was coming to realize what a truly bad idea it was to piss him off. Yes, life was definitely looking up. And without his annoying twit of a brother around to constantly try to 'bring him out of the darkness' it looked like it would stay that way.
// He's not a twit, // a small voice in the back of the Undertaker's head protested, but he quickly and ruthlessly shoved it back down. Kane had turned his back on Taker. He was no longer worthy of Taker's concern...no one was. For too long the Undertaker had worried about being a good brother, about looking out for Kane. And in that time, his dominance of the WWF had suffered. Now it was time to take back what was his. He would be respected. He would be feared. But most of all...he would be Champion.
And woe to anyone who dared to get in his way.
Even Kane.
A hesitant knock on his door broke the Undertaker out of his thoughts. "Come," he ordered, wondering who would dare to disturb him.
"I'm...I'm sorry, sir," a crewman told Taker, sweat beading on the poor man's forehead as he slowly entered the locker room, cordless phone in his hand. "Saint Vincent's Hospital is on the phone for you, sir." Suddenly that small piece of the Undertaker that still cared for his brother gained strength as the man continued. "They say it's about Kane."
Wordlessly, the Lord of Darkness took the phone from the man's shaking hand. His task completed, the crewman quickly left the room. The Undertaker looked after the man, a satisfied smirk on his lips at the man's obvious fear. Then he put the phone to his ear, "Hello," he said into the receiver.
"Mr. Calloway?" a female voice on the other end asked.
"Yes, this is he," the Undertaker replied.
"My name is Nathalie Martin, I'm a nurse at Saint Vincent's Hospital. You might remember me, we met briefly on the night Kane was brought in."
"What is this about, Nurse," Taker brusquely asked. If his rude manner bothered Nathalie, however, he couldn't tell by your response.
"I'm calling about your brother," she told him, "I'm afraid he's taken a turn for the worse."
"I was under the impression that he was expected to do fine," he quietly protested, the worry that was beginning to gnaw at him not apparent in his voice.
"That was the initial diagnosis, yes," Nurse Martin told him, "Unfortunately it now appears that some internal damage was missed in the examination. Kane never complained of being in any discomfort or pain, so no one thought to look again for unknown injuries. We just looked after the ones we had found." She paused briefly to let this information sink in, then continued, "A little over three hours ago, however, Kane went into seizures. When we finally got him stabilized the doctors reexamined him and discovered massive amounts of blood in the chest cavity. Apparently one of his broken ribs nicked an artery during the attack. At first the damage wasn't significant enough for it to be noticed. Since then, however, he has been moving around, increasing the size and severity of the injury, and causing more and more blood to flow into his chest cavity until his collapse today."
"And what exactly does this all have to do with me, miss," the Undertaker asked, struggling now to keep his voice level.
Nathalie sighed in exasperation and said to him, "Sir, your brother is currently in a coma. His condition is deteriorating rapidly, and there is nothing we can do to stop it. If you want to say goodbye before it's too late, I suggest that you get here very soon."
A stunned silence was her only reply. Then the Undertaker said softly, "I'm on my way," and turned off the phone. Sitting in his dark dressing room, the Undertaker felt the anger and hatred that had fueled him for that last several days slowly draining from him.
For the first time he could remember he actually felt his age as his slowly stood up and began packing up his things for the trip to the hospital.
