Lords of Darkness IV
Thunderous cheers rocked the Mellon Arena in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, as Raw kicked of the following Monday. JR and Paul Heyman sat at their usual ringside announce table; after introducing the night's matches, they picked up the never-ending verbal battle that they waged every Monday.
"Everyone here at the WWF would like to send our continued prayers out to Edge, Christian and their family," JR announced, preparing to bring everyone up-to-date on their conditions. "As was mentioned on Smackdown, Christian had a mild concussion and a separated shoulder, and has since been released from the hospital. Rhyno, who also competed in the match, got away with only a bruised tailbone. Edge, though, suffered severe head trauma in addition to rupturing several vertebrae, and has been in a coma for the last week. The doctors are doing all they can, but it doesn't look good for the young man. Even if he does come out of his coma, there is a ninety-eight percent chance that he will never walk again."
"I'd like to add my own personal well-wishes to those of the rest of the WWF," Paul broke in, smug indignation coloring his voice, "and I would also like to condemn the actions of those monsters, the so-called 'Lords of Darkness', Kane and the Undertaker. What they did was inexcusable, and furthermore..."
With a deafening roar the entire ring erupted in flames. Paul and JR both sat speechless as the fire burned merrily for several moments. Strangely, it didn't seem to be damaging the ring in any way, and they would have thought it nothing more than an illusion if they hadn't felt the intense heat radiating from it.
Just as suddenly as it had begun, the blaze disappeared, leaving the Undertaker and Kane, both wearing their robes with the hoods thrown back, standing in the middle of the ring.
JR was the first to speak, wry humor mixing with awed fear in his voice. "You're in luck, Paul. Now's your chance to express your displeasure with the Undertaker and Kane in person."
"Oh, ha, ha, very funny. You're about as humorous as these two clowns in the ring. How dare they interrupt MY commentary like..."
"We are going to be brief, and to the point." Taker's deep, menacing voice easily overrode Paul's. "Last week I arrived home to discover that my wife had been murdered in our own home."
"WHAT!?" JR exclaimed, unable to believe what he had just heard.
The cry was repeated throughout the arena, and the Undertaker paused for a moment until the crowd quieted down. "In the time since, Kane and I learned who the responsible partied were. And so, Vince, HHH...Austin...Kane and I are here to warn you that as of now you are all living on borrowed time."
With that the Undertaker threw down his microphone and he and Kane started to leave the ring. Kane had just flipped over the top rope onto the arena floor when Vince McMahon's music began. Both men glanced to the entryway at the top of the ramp to see Vince himself stride from behind the curtains.
"Now wait just one damn minute!" Vince shouted irately. "Are you insinuating that Austin, Hunter and I had something to do with your wife's death? This is absolutely disgusting, you, trying to use your wife's death against the three of us. You shame your wife's memory with these spurious allegations."
The Undertaker's countenance had grown steadily darker as Vince had spoken, and he clasped the top rope with both hands, the knuckles of his tightly clenched fists going white. "Kane," he called out, his voice hardly recognizable due to the hatred it contained, "show Mr. McMahon our 'spurious allegations'."
Nodding, Kane climbed back into the ring and took his position in its center. He pressed the palms of his hands together and bent his head, concentrating, until, hovering in the air above him appeared a large ball of fire. Imaged slowly appeared inside of it, and the entire arena watched with gruesome fascination as Sara's last moments played out before it.
By the time the drama had completely unfolded and Kane's mystic fire had faded away every bit of color had drained out of Vince's face. All eyes now turned towards him, and he swallowed nervously as he formulated his response. "Those...those fancy special effects don't prove a thing," he began, his voice gaining strength as he recovered from his initial shock. "None of that really happened. It was nothing more than a trick of light and mirrors."
"I'll give you light and mirrors," Kane growled, offended, as his hand come up and he prepared to give Mr. McMahon an up close view of his 'special effects'.
The Undertaker placed a staying hand on his brother's shoulder, shaking his head in negation when Kane looked over at him. Now was not the time for such things. "I assure you, my brother's powers are quite real, as are mine...as you and your allies will soon learn."
That moment, William Regal's music began, and the commissioner of the WWF made his entrance. "Now hold on there, sunshine," Regal sneered. "I don't know who you and your brother think you are, coming out here and threatening Mr. McMahon, but I can assure you that your impertinence will not go unpunished."
A sardonic smile bloomed on the Undertaker's face as he stared up at the two men. "Oh really, 'sunshine'? And just who is going to attempt this punishment? You?"
An expression of fear briefly crossed Regal's face, gone almost before it was there. "You two don't deserve the honor of facing me in battle. No, instead you will face Albert and the Dudley Boys in a handicap table match."
Kane and the Undertaker shared an amused look, then they both turned back to Vince and Regal. "I didn't realize you hated those boys that much," Taker chuckled morbidly. Then he made a slashing gesture with his right hand and every light in the arena went out, plunging it into total darkness. Seconds later, when the lights came back on, Kane and the Undertaker were gone.
*******
Stone Cold Steve Austin staggered out of the bathroom of he and Debra's hotel room and collapsed into bed next to his wife. "Dammit, I hurt."
Debra looked up from the magazine she was reading, concern on her face. "Your shower didn't help at all?"
Austin just snorted disparagingly. "Shit, woman, if it had helped, do you think I would still be complaining?"
"Well, I..." Debra said, shocked by her husband's remark. Not for the first time, she wondered what had happened to the loving man she had married. "I was just asking. There's no need to be rude."
"Whatever," Austin shrugged, showing no signs of actually being listening to his wife. "I'll tell you this, the next time Vince wants somebody to interfere in one of Taker and Kane's matches he can send his son-in-law. I don't plan on getting anywhere near those two again."
"That's a good idea. Who knows what Kane would have done to you if Albert hadn't low-blowed him. You probably would have wound up in worse shape than Albert and the Dudleys, and none of them are expected to be able to wrestle again for at least a few months. Kane and the Undertaker have absolutely terrified me lately. Well, they've always been intimidating, but now it's like they don't even care about possible consequences, they just want to hurt people. Ever since..." Debra paused in her ramblings to cast a hesitant glance towards Austin. "Steve, honey, you didn't REALLY kill the Undertaker's wife, did you?"
"Of course not!" Stone Cold replied. "I can't believe that you actually have to ask me that. Of course I didn't kill her."
Debra relaxed with relief, allowing herself to believe her husband. "I knew it. I knew you would never so something like that. I knew it was all a lie."
"Exactly," Austin said, kissing her lightly on the forehead. "Just a lie those two sickos cooked up to turn me into a bad guy. Now, why don't you get some shuteye? I'm going to run down and soak in the hot tub downstairs and see if that doesn't help."
"Are you sure? The plane leaves early tomorrow, and you need to get your sleep."
"There ain't no way I'd be able to sleep right now, anyway, sore as I am. I won't be down there too long, though, couple hours tops. Besides, I can always catch a nap on the plane."
"Alright," Debra finally gave in. "But I don't want to hear you complaining about being tired tomorrow."
"Fine, glad to see you're so concerned about my welfare," Austin said as he gathered up a dry towel and his bathing shorts and made for the door. "Goodnight."
Debra sighed in frustration as Stone Cold left, closing the door firmly behind him without even waiting for her reply. "Goodnight, Steve," she murmured as she settled herself under the covers and turned off her table lamp.
*******
Stone Cold was still angrily muttering over Debra's disrespecting him ten minutes later as he waited impatiently for an elevator. Finally giving into his impatience, he headed for the stairwell, deciding to walk down the three flights of stairs to the Lobby level. His hand had just touched the door when a harsh voice came from behind him.
"Where do you think you're going, boy?"
Recognizing the voice, Austin replied, "Fuck off, Taker. I got no business with you."
The Undertaker grabbed Austin's shoulders and slammed him against the wall. "That's where you're wrong, boy...very wrong. You and me, we've got all kinds of unsettled business between us...but not for long." With that the Undertaker's right hand began to glow with a strange black flame. Firmly grabbing Austin's throat in his left hand to hold the other man in place, Taker covered Austin's face with his right hand and began incanting in what sounded like Latin. His voice began to resonate with power until he barked out the final word. The flame surrounding his hand flared up, and Austin felt a ripping pain run through his body.
He managed to scream once, briefly, before falling lifelessly to the floor.
*******
Austin awoke to find himself in a seemingly endless hall. Wall-mounted torches provided pools of illumination on the rough stone walls and the obsidian floor. A forest of large demonic statues surrounded him, all with their heads turned in his direction as if watching this newcomer to their realm.
"What the hell?!" He exclaimed, looking around in frustrated astonishment. Faintly he hear a murmuring voice off to his left and, with no other ideas, he began to make his way towards it. Suddenly from behind him came an ear-piercing wail. Austin turned, but the statues prevented him from seeing what had made such a terrible noise. With inexplicable certainty, however, he knew that whatever it was, it was heading straight for him. Gripped with intense terror, Stone Cold began to run, looking back over his shoulder, expecting at any second to see some hideous monstrosity come into view.
So intent was he on what was behind him that he didn't see the figure that flowed out of the floor in front of him; Austin never noticed him until he collided with him.
"Ah!" he yelled as he ricocheted off the figure and fell to the floor. Looking up, Austin found himself staring into the grim visage of the Undertaker. "What, you! What the hell is going on here?! How did you get me here? Where the hell IS here?!"
The Undertaker silently regarded Austin, his face mirroring the hatred he felt for the man before him. Eventually he spoke, "Where is here? Here is the Dreamscape, a level of existence that is my birthright, an area that I control and command. I brought your spirit here to exact revenge for what you did to my wife."
"Brought my spirit here? But how?"
"More light and mirrors," Taker replied sarcastically, referring to Vince's comments earlier on Raw.
"No," Austin said, trying to simultaneously rise and back away from the Undertaker, "that's not possible. None of this is possible."
A terrifyingly evil chuckle escaped the Undertaker. "Oh, it's very possible. Just like it's possible that you are finally going to pay for killing Sara."
At that moment their surroundings shifted, and the two men reappeared in a moderately sized room. Floor torches blazed in the corners and another fire burned in a large ceremonial bowl on an altar in the center of the room. Laid out on the altar, to either side of the bowl, were a wide variety of implements of torture; knives, whips, thumbscrews, and other frightening and strange objects whose function Austin could only guess.
Before Stone Cold could utter a word of protest, he was seized by an invisible force. Austin watched in helpless terror as one of the Undertaker's massive symbols appeared in front of the altar. The same force that held him motionless levitated him towards the cross and settled him spread eagle upon it. Once he was in place the Undertaker picked up a large hammer and three iron spikes and moved over to where Austin hung.
"This isn't real," Austin desperately denied. "None of it, this is just a bad dream. I'll wake up any minute now."
The Undertaker placed one of the spikes against Austin's wrist, then hefted the hammer a few times. "Why don't you keep on telling yourself that? Maybe it'll help...maybe." With that the hammer came down and Austin howled as his arm was impaled. Taker then repeated the process with Austin's other arm and his feet. Then the force that had been holding Austin lessened just enough for a portion of his weight to rest on the spikes, causing them to pull at his flesh.
Taker stepped back to admire his handiwork, then turned back to the altar, replaced the hammer and picked up a large bullwhip. "Now then, on to business."
"You bastard," Austin snapped, "you'll never get away with this. You can't..."
"You know," Taker interrupted, "I don't really want to hear anything you've got to say right now." And with no more than that Austin found that his mouth was sealed shut; no matter how he struggled he couldn't open it. "That's much better," the Undertaker said as he unraveled the whip. "Let's continue."
The Undertaker proceeded to mercilessly flog Austin, leaving no part of his body unbloodied as his mighty whip came down again and again. Stone Cold felt tears sting his eyes as he hung there, unable to so much as cry out.
"Is this how you felt when you killed my wife?" the Undertaker asked, breaking the silence that till now had prevailed. "Did you feel the power rushing through you? The ultimate power of holding another's life, their very future, in the palm of your hand? Did it excite you, when you felt her heart stop beating, when you realized exactly what you had done?"
Austin desperately tried to shake his head, to deny what the Undertaker was saying, but he was still unable to move. He could only let out moans of pain and frustration as his tears cut paths through the blood covering his face.
"It's a wonderful feeling, isn't it?" the Undertaker continued, emphasizing his words with strikes from his whip. "Having so much power, it's intoxicating. And very addictive. It was a feeling I used to revel in as the Lord of Darkness. I was pure evil, and I enjoyed every damn minute of it. Until Sara came along, and brought me out of the darkness, managed to convince me that there was something more to life than power and control." Now the Undertaker's eyes turned to ice and they bored into Austin's own. "And then you killed her. Though actually, I suppose I should thank you. You woke me up. Proved to me that nothing good in this world ever lasts."
Taker rolled the bloody whip back up, placing it back on the altar. With a tilting motion of his hand he rotated the cross on which Austin was bound until his prisoner was lying horizontally, about four and a half feet off the ground. "You know," Taker continued, almost conversationally, "the fire is looking a bit low. I need to find something to feed it." So saying he picked up a large, serrated knife and a fork-like object from the altar. With one thrust, Taker stuck the fork deep into Austin's thigh, tearing a muffled scream from the Rattlesnake. Using the blade, Taker cut a chunk from the flesh surrounding the fork, then threw the flesh into the fire, which roared and flared up in appreciation.
The Undertaker continued to flay Austin, randomly cutting chunks of his flesh from his body and feeding them to the fire. "Yes, you proved to me that I was better off as I had been," he picked up his previous discourse. "I was better off caring for no one, living with only one purpose in life, ensuring my own success...and, of course, causing as much pain as I can in the process."
By now the fire was burning at twice its previous height, and Austin was beginning to feel faint from pain and blood loss. Black spots began to swim in front of his eyes, and he welcomed the blissful freedom of oblivion.
"I don't think so," the Undertaker said, tapping his index finger against Stone Cold's temple. "There is no escape for you. Your soul is mine, to do with as I wish."
Austin cried wordlessly in despair as he felt unconsciousness slipping away and he realized that he was once again fully aware.
Taker pretended to be considering things. "I suppose, though, that I should be ending this fun. It will be morning soon, and I have much more to accomplish." With that he grabbed another knife from the altar and made two slices across Austin's stomach in the shape of a cross. Taking hold of two sides of the wound, the Undertaker pulled them apart, ripping the cut open. Then he reached inside and began to pull out Stone Cold's intestines and let them fall to a heap on the floor as the other man looked on in horror.
Eventually the Undertaker had cleared out enough for his satisfaction and, concentrating slightly, he made a large bucket appear on the floor, filled with hot oil. He lifted the bucket and poured it's contents into Austin's chest cavity, enjoying the muffled shrieks of agony that came from his prisoner. "And now, Austin, it comes to an end. Don't worry. HHH and Vince will be joining you in hell soon enough." Taker picked up an unlit torch and ignited it from the altar fire, then used the flaming brand to light the oil inside of Austin on fire.
The Undertaker removed Austin's mystical gag just in time to catch the man's dying screams, music to his ears as he stood watching his body burn from the inside out.
Thunderous cheers rocked the Mellon Arena in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, as Raw kicked of the following Monday. JR and Paul Heyman sat at their usual ringside announce table; after introducing the night's matches, they picked up the never-ending verbal battle that they waged every Monday.
"Everyone here at the WWF would like to send our continued prayers out to Edge, Christian and their family," JR announced, preparing to bring everyone up-to-date on their conditions. "As was mentioned on Smackdown, Christian had a mild concussion and a separated shoulder, and has since been released from the hospital. Rhyno, who also competed in the match, got away with only a bruised tailbone. Edge, though, suffered severe head trauma in addition to rupturing several vertebrae, and has been in a coma for the last week. The doctors are doing all they can, but it doesn't look good for the young man. Even if he does come out of his coma, there is a ninety-eight percent chance that he will never walk again."
"I'd like to add my own personal well-wishes to those of the rest of the WWF," Paul broke in, smug indignation coloring his voice, "and I would also like to condemn the actions of those monsters, the so-called 'Lords of Darkness', Kane and the Undertaker. What they did was inexcusable, and furthermore..."
With a deafening roar the entire ring erupted in flames. Paul and JR both sat speechless as the fire burned merrily for several moments. Strangely, it didn't seem to be damaging the ring in any way, and they would have thought it nothing more than an illusion if they hadn't felt the intense heat radiating from it.
Just as suddenly as it had begun, the blaze disappeared, leaving the Undertaker and Kane, both wearing their robes with the hoods thrown back, standing in the middle of the ring.
JR was the first to speak, wry humor mixing with awed fear in his voice. "You're in luck, Paul. Now's your chance to express your displeasure with the Undertaker and Kane in person."
"Oh, ha, ha, very funny. You're about as humorous as these two clowns in the ring. How dare they interrupt MY commentary like..."
"We are going to be brief, and to the point." Taker's deep, menacing voice easily overrode Paul's. "Last week I arrived home to discover that my wife had been murdered in our own home."
"WHAT!?" JR exclaimed, unable to believe what he had just heard.
The cry was repeated throughout the arena, and the Undertaker paused for a moment until the crowd quieted down. "In the time since, Kane and I learned who the responsible partied were. And so, Vince, HHH...Austin...Kane and I are here to warn you that as of now you are all living on borrowed time."
With that the Undertaker threw down his microphone and he and Kane started to leave the ring. Kane had just flipped over the top rope onto the arena floor when Vince McMahon's music began. Both men glanced to the entryway at the top of the ramp to see Vince himself stride from behind the curtains.
"Now wait just one damn minute!" Vince shouted irately. "Are you insinuating that Austin, Hunter and I had something to do with your wife's death? This is absolutely disgusting, you, trying to use your wife's death against the three of us. You shame your wife's memory with these spurious allegations."
The Undertaker's countenance had grown steadily darker as Vince had spoken, and he clasped the top rope with both hands, the knuckles of his tightly clenched fists going white. "Kane," he called out, his voice hardly recognizable due to the hatred it contained, "show Mr. McMahon our 'spurious allegations'."
Nodding, Kane climbed back into the ring and took his position in its center. He pressed the palms of his hands together and bent his head, concentrating, until, hovering in the air above him appeared a large ball of fire. Imaged slowly appeared inside of it, and the entire arena watched with gruesome fascination as Sara's last moments played out before it.
By the time the drama had completely unfolded and Kane's mystic fire had faded away every bit of color had drained out of Vince's face. All eyes now turned towards him, and he swallowed nervously as he formulated his response. "Those...those fancy special effects don't prove a thing," he began, his voice gaining strength as he recovered from his initial shock. "None of that really happened. It was nothing more than a trick of light and mirrors."
"I'll give you light and mirrors," Kane growled, offended, as his hand come up and he prepared to give Mr. McMahon an up close view of his 'special effects'.
The Undertaker placed a staying hand on his brother's shoulder, shaking his head in negation when Kane looked over at him. Now was not the time for such things. "I assure you, my brother's powers are quite real, as are mine...as you and your allies will soon learn."
That moment, William Regal's music began, and the commissioner of the WWF made his entrance. "Now hold on there, sunshine," Regal sneered. "I don't know who you and your brother think you are, coming out here and threatening Mr. McMahon, but I can assure you that your impertinence will not go unpunished."
A sardonic smile bloomed on the Undertaker's face as he stared up at the two men. "Oh really, 'sunshine'? And just who is going to attempt this punishment? You?"
An expression of fear briefly crossed Regal's face, gone almost before it was there. "You two don't deserve the honor of facing me in battle. No, instead you will face Albert and the Dudley Boys in a handicap table match."
Kane and the Undertaker shared an amused look, then they both turned back to Vince and Regal. "I didn't realize you hated those boys that much," Taker chuckled morbidly. Then he made a slashing gesture with his right hand and every light in the arena went out, plunging it into total darkness. Seconds later, when the lights came back on, Kane and the Undertaker were gone.
*******
Stone Cold Steve Austin staggered out of the bathroom of he and Debra's hotel room and collapsed into bed next to his wife. "Dammit, I hurt."
Debra looked up from the magazine she was reading, concern on her face. "Your shower didn't help at all?"
Austin just snorted disparagingly. "Shit, woman, if it had helped, do you think I would still be complaining?"
"Well, I..." Debra said, shocked by her husband's remark. Not for the first time, she wondered what had happened to the loving man she had married. "I was just asking. There's no need to be rude."
"Whatever," Austin shrugged, showing no signs of actually being listening to his wife. "I'll tell you this, the next time Vince wants somebody to interfere in one of Taker and Kane's matches he can send his son-in-law. I don't plan on getting anywhere near those two again."
"That's a good idea. Who knows what Kane would have done to you if Albert hadn't low-blowed him. You probably would have wound up in worse shape than Albert and the Dudleys, and none of them are expected to be able to wrestle again for at least a few months. Kane and the Undertaker have absolutely terrified me lately. Well, they've always been intimidating, but now it's like they don't even care about possible consequences, they just want to hurt people. Ever since..." Debra paused in her ramblings to cast a hesitant glance towards Austin. "Steve, honey, you didn't REALLY kill the Undertaker's wife, did you?"
"Of course not!" Stone Cold replied. "I can't believe that you actually have to ask me that. Of course I didn't kill her."
Debra relaxed with relief, allowing herself to believe her husband. "I knew it. I knew you would never so something like that. I knew it was all a lie."
"Exactly," Austin said, kissing her lightly on the forehead. "Just a lie those two sickos cooked up to turn me into a bad guy. Now, why don't you get some shuteye? I'm going to run down and soak in the hot tub downstairs and see if that doesn't help."
"Are you sure? The plane leaves early tomorrow, and you need to get your sleep."
"There ain't no way I'd be able to sleep right now, anyway, sore as I am. I won't be down there too long, though, couple hours tops. Besides, I can always catch a nap on the plane."
"Alright," Debra finally gave in. "But I don't want to hear you complaining about being tired tomorrow."
"Fine, glad to see you're so concerned about my welfare," Austin said as he gathered up a dry towel and his bathing shorts and made for the door. "Goodnight."
Debra sighed in frustration as Stone Cold left, closing the door firmly behind him without even waiting for her reply. "Goodnight, Steve," she murmured as she settled herself under the covers and turned off her table lamp.
*******
Stone Cold was still angrily muttering over Debra's disrespecting him ten minutes later as he waited impatiently for an elevator. Finally giving into his impatience, he headed for the stairwell, deciding to walk down the three flights of stairs to the Lobby level. His hand had just touched the door when a harsh voice came from behind him.
"Where do you think you're going, boy?"
Recognizing the voice, Austin replied, "Fuck off, Taker. I got no business with you."
The Undertaker grabbed Austin's shoulders and slammed him against the wall. "That's where you're wrong, boy...very wrong. You and me, we've got all kinds of unsettled business between us...but not for long." With that the Undertaker's right hand began to glow with a strange black flame. Firmly grabbing Austin's throat in his left hand to hold the other man in place, Taker covered Austin's face with his right hand and began incanting in what sounded like Latin. His voice began to resonate with power until he barked out the final word. The flame surrounding his hand flared up, and Austin felt a ripping pain run through his body.
He managed to scream once, briefly, before falling lifelessly to the floor.
*******
Austin awoke to find himself in a seemingly endless hall. Wall-mounted torches provided pools of illumination on the rough stone walls and the obsidian floor. A forest of large demonic statues surrounded him, all with their heads turned in his direction as if watching this newcomer to their realm.
"What the hell?!" He exclaimed, looking around in frustrated astonishment. Faintly he hear a murmuring voice off to his left and, with no other ideas, he began to make his way towards it. Suddenly from behind him came an ear-piercing wail. Austin turned, but the statues prevented him from seeing what had made such a terrible noise. With inexplicable certainty, however, he knew that whatever it was, it was heading straight for him. Gripped with intense terror, Stone Cold began to run, looking back over his shoulder, expecting at any second to see some hideous monstrosity come into view.
So intent was he on what was behind him that he didn't see the figure that flowed out of the floor in front of him; Austin never noticed him until he collided with him.
"Ah!" he yelled as he ricocheted off the figure and fell to the floor. Looking up, Austin found himself staring into the grim visage of the Undertaker. "What, you! What the hell is going on here?! How did you get me here? Where the hell IS here?!"
The Undertaker silently regarded Austin, his face mirroring the hatred he felt for the man before him. Eventually he spoke, "Where is here? Here is the Dreamscape, a level of existence that is my birthright, an area that I control and command. I brought your spirit here to exact revenge for what you did to my wife."
"Brought my spirit here? But how?"
"More light and mirrors," Taker replied sarcastically, referring to Vince's comments earlier on Raw.
"No," Austin said, trying to simultaneously rise and back away from the Undertaker, "that's not possible. None of this is possible."
A terrifyingly evil chuckle escaped the Undertaker. "Oh, it's very possible. Just like it's possible that you are finally going to pay for killing Sara."
At that moment their surroundings shifted, and the two men reappeared in a moderately sized room. Floor torches blazed in the corners and another fire burned in a large ceremonial bowl on an altar in the center of the room. Laid out on the altar, to either side of the bowl, were a wide variety of implements of torture; knives, whips, thumbscrews, and other frightening and strange objects whose function Austin could only guess.
Before Stone Cold could utter a word of protest, he was seized by an invisible force. Austin watched in helpless terror as one of the Undertaker's massive symbols appeared in front of the altar. The same force that held him motionless levitated him towards the cross and settled him spread eagle upon it. Once he was in place the Undertaker picked up a large hammer and three iron spikes and moved over to where Austin hung.
"This isn't real," Austin desperately denied. "None of it, this is just a bad dream. I'll wake up any minute now."
The Undertaker placed one of the spikes against Austin's wrist, then hefted the hammer a few times. "Why don't you keep on telling yourself that? Maybe it'll help...maybe." With that the hammer came down and Austin howled as his arm was impaled. Taker then repeated the process with Austin's other arm and his feet. Then the force that had been holding Austin lessened just enough for a portion of his weight to rest on the spikes, causing them to pull at his flesh.
Taker stepped back to admire his handiwork, then turned back to the altar, replaced the hammer and picked up a large bullwhip. "Now then, on to business."
"You bastard," Austin snapped, "you'll never get away with this. You can't..."
"You know," Taker interrupted, "I don't really want to hear anything you've got to say right now." And with no more than that Austin found that his mouth was sealed shut; no matter how he struggled he couldn't open it. "That's much better," the Undertaker said as he unraveled the whip. "Let's continue."
The Undertaker proceeded to mercilessly flog Austin, leaving no part of his body unbloodied as his mighty whip came down again and again. Stone Cold felt tears sting his eyes as he hung there, unable to so much as cry out.
"Is this how you felt when you killed my wife?" the Undertaker asked, breaking the silence that till now had prevailed. "Did you feel the power rushing through you? The ultimate power of holding another's life, their very future, in the palm of your hand? Did it excite you, when you felt her heart stop beating, when you realized exactly what you had done?"
Austin desperately tried to shake his head, to deny what the Undertaker was saying, but he was still unable to move. He could only let out moans of pain and frustration as his tears cut paths through the blood covering his face.
"It's a wonderful feeling, isn't it?" the Undertaker continued, emphasizing his words with strikes from his whip. "Having so much power, it's intoxicating. And very addictive. It was a feeling I used to revel in as the Lord of Darkness. I was pure evil, and I enjoyed every damn minute of it. Until Sara came along, and brought me out of the darkness, managed to convince me that there was something more to life than power and control." Now the Undertaker's eyes turned to ice and they bored into Austin's own. "And then you killed her. Though actually, I suppose I should thank you. You woke me up. Proved to me that nothing good in this world ever lasts."
Taker rolled the bloody whip back up, placing it back on the altar. With a tilting motion of his hand he rotated the cross on which Austin was bound until his prisoner was lying horizontally, about four and a half feet off the ground. "You know," Taker continued, almost conversationally, "the fire is looking a bit low. I need to find something to feed it." So saying he picked up a large, serrated knife and a fork-like object from the altar. With one thrust, Taker stuck the fork deep into Austin's thigh, tearing a muffled scream from the Rattlesnake. Using the blade, Taker cut a chunk from the flesh surrounding the fork, then threw the flesh into the fire, which roared and flared up in appreciation.
The Undertaker continued to flay Austin, randomly cutting chunks of his flesh from his body and feeding them to the fire. "Yes, you proved to me that I was better off as I had been," he picked up his previous discourse. "I was better off caring for no one, living with only one purpose in life, ensuring my own success...and, of course, causing as much pain as I can in the process."
By now the fire was burning at twice its previous height, and Austin was beginning to feel faint from pain and blood loss. Black spots began to swim in front of his eyes, and he welcomed the blissful freedom of oblivion.
"I don't think so," the Undertaker said, tapping his index finger against Stone Cold's temple. "There is no escape for you. Your soul is mine, to do with as I wish."
Austin cried wordlessly in despair as he felt unconsciousness slipping away and he realized that he was once again fully aware.
Taker pretended to be considering things. "I suppose, though, that I should be ending this fun. It will be morning soon, and I have much more to accomplish." With that he grabbed another knife from the altar and made two slices across Austin's stomach in the shape of a cross. Taking hold of two sides of the wound, the Undertaker pulled them apart, ripping the cut open. Then he reached inside and began to pull out Stone Cold's intestines and let them fall to a heap on the floor as the other man looked on in horror.
Eventually the Undertaker had cleared out enough for his satisfaction and, concentrating slightly, he made a large bucket appear on the floor, filled with hot oil. He lifted the bucket and poured it's contents into Austin's chest cavity, enjoying the muffled shrieks of agony that came from his prisoner. "And now, Austin, it comes to an end. Don't worry. HHH and Vince will be joining you in hell soon enough." Taker picked up an unlit torch and ignited it from the altar fire, then used the flaming brand to light the oil inside of Austin on fire.
The Undertaker removed Austin's mystical gag just in time to catch the man's dying screams, music to his ears as he stood watching his body burn from the inside out.
