Part 13: Tattoo
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Underground
==========
Ravyn watched as Edge, Christian, and Undertaker discussed their plans for that night. It would have been Edge, Christian and Gangrel wrestling if Kane hadn't killed the man-beast. She wandered over to the casket where Gangrel was laid out. He was back to his human form, blond hair laying over his shoulders, eyes shut in repose.
"He will rise again, child," Undertaker's hands were on her shoulders, his breath ruffling over her earlobe. "In time, he will rise."
Ravyn nodded as she stared down at the blond man. His eyes suddenly opened, fangs were bared. He reached a hand up, grasping for Ravyn's throat.
She gasped for air, his hand cutting off her breathing. Undertaker grabbed Gangrel's wrist.
"Let her go-she is with us now," he told the blond man.
"But Master-she was with Ka-"
Undertaker slapped him across the face. "Do not question my command!" he roared. Gangrel whimpered as he slammed the lid of the casket down, latching it.
Ravyn was trembling. Her memory of seeing Gangrel killed flickered through her mind. She had been fighting that monster in the mask when he had come to her aide. But now, she could see herself being saved. The black gloved hand pulling the man beast from her, throwing him onto the bench in the locker room. Looking into the aqua blue eyes, touching the red and black mask-
She shook her head, as if trying to shake the memories away. Taker looked at her, gray eyes questioning.
"I'm fine, Master," she blocked her mind to him, so he wouldn't see what she had seen. "Just disappointed that a Brother of the Darkness would attack me."
He smiled. "Soon, he will remember you. He is not completely healed yet."
"I hope he is healed soon, Master," Ravyn gave her wicked smile. "I am tired. I will retire for the day."
"Sleep well, child," Undertaker kissed her forehead, watching the raven haired woman walk to her quarters.
'Why am I here?'
That voice again, whispering in the back of his mind.
"Shut up!" Undertaker snapped aloud, his voice gruff and betraying his irritation.
Outside the Apartment
=================
He was there again. Staring towards Heavynne's bedroom window. Somehow he had teleported himself there without even thinking about it.
Taker sighed. He must be losing his mind. With trying to keep the hold over Ravyn's mind, which was nearly impossible, it didn't surprise him. It took most of his strength to confuse her memories while Kane and her sisters' kept trying to probe her mind.
Now he was here. The sun was just rising, giving the sky a warm autumn glow. Heavynne was on the balconey, as if she knew he was there. She was wearing a light green nightgown that buttoned at the front and fell to her knees. The hem ruffled in the slight breeze.
'Why are you here?'
Dammit, she was in his mind again.
'I don't know.'
Then he was on the balconey with her.
"Taker-" she said this verbally, as if trying to distance herself from their mind link.
'Heavynne-' He said in her mind. Her eyes widened. He realized he'd never spoken her name before.
"Heavynne." He said out loud.
The peridot green eyes were shattered. Tears hung on sooty black lashes. Goosebumps were raised on her pale flesh.
"Why are you here?" she whispered in a choked voice.
"I don't know," Taker was surprised at the huskiness of his own voice. "I don't know."
He looked away from the witch. This had to be a trick of her magick.
'It's no magick,' whispered that voice in the back of his mind. 'It's where you belong.'
Saalah was there, in his mind. Her red eyes blazed. "Where are you, Undertaker?"
Why couldn't she sense where he was? She always knew where all the Ministry were.
'I'm taking care of business.' Then he put the block up. Defying Saalah was new to him, but it felt like the right thing to do.
Then he kissed the witch. Her mouth was soft and tasted like mint toothpaste. She tried to pull away, but he grasped her shoulders, pulling her closer. Her tiny body clung to him as he explored her mouth with his tongue. Taker moved his mouth to her jaw, nibbling to her neck. Heavynne's head fell back, giving him better access to the tender flesh.
He pushed a strap off her shoulder, and the green silk fell away from one breast. His large hand warmed the flesh there. The calloused palm rubbed over the tender nipple.
"We can't-" Heavynne gasped.
"We can-" his lips closed around the hardened pink nub.
Light exploded in Undertaker's mind. A brilliant white light, tinged with green. The dreams came back vividly.
-------------------------------------
They were in a place of light. It was calm and loving there. Undertaker looked down at himself, realizing he wore white and dark green. Dark green leather pants and boots, white shirt, and dark green vest. He felt the circlet on his head, recognizing the etching of stag horns on the gold metal. He was seated on a throne.
Beside him sat Heavynne. She wore a gown of pure white, the bodice encrusted with peridots. A silver circlet sat on her forehead, etchings of the triple moon engraved into the metal. A matching silver band encircled her upper left arm.
Thunder rolled, a dark cloud covered the sky above them. Rain began pelting them. But it wasn't rain. When Taker looked at Heavynne, blood was running down her face, the droplets staining her gown red. She stood.
"They are here!" she exclaimed.
"Who? What's going on? Heavynne-"
She was gone, and he stood in the blood rain alone.
"Heavynne!" His scream went unheard.
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He was back underground, in his quarters. Had he really gone to see Heavynne? Or was that a dream?
"Undertaker, come see me at once." Saalah said in his mind, her voice of a banshee almost shattering his minds' ears.
He teleported to the throne room. Saalah was alone.
"Where is Belphagor?" Undertaker asked, kneeling before the demoness.
"This is no concern of his," she sniffed, then gestured for him to come to her. Taker moved closer to her.
"My dear Dark One," Saalah purred, then her claws raked over his chest. "How dare you defy me!"
So it wasn't a dream.
"I was toying with the witches, Mistress." He ammended. "I wanted to surprise you with their torture tonight."
Saalah smiled, her fangs gleaming in the dim light of the candles.
"You forget to whom you speak," she hissed. "You belong to me. I shall mark it as such. Lift your chin." Saalah took a hold of his chin, tilting it back as far as it would go.
Then the searing pain began. Taker didn't have to look to see what the demoness was doing. She was magically tattooing her name on the tender flesh of his throat. The gothic black lettering itched and burned.
"To mortals it will say Sara," she whispered to him, kissing his forehead. "And all will know you belong to me!"
"Yes, Mistress," Taker bowed his head, kissing her hand.
"Now go prepare for the match tonight," Saalah dismissed him.
--------------------
Underground
==========
Ravyn watched as Edge, Christian, and Undertaker discussed their plans for that night. It would have been Edge, Christian and Gangrel wrestling if Kane hadn't killed the man-beast. She wandered over to the casket where Gangrel was laid out. He was back to his human form, blond hair laying over his shoulders, eyes shut in repose.
"He will rise again, child," Undertaker's hands were on her shoulders, his breath ruffling over her earlobe. "In time, he will rise."
Ravyn nodded as she stared down at the blond man. His eyes suddenly opened, fangs were bared. He reached a hand up, grasping for Ravyn's throat.
She gasped for air, his hand cutting off her breathing. Undertaker grabbed Gangrel's wrist.
"Let her go-she is with us now," he told the blond man.
"But Master-she was with Ka-"
Undertaker slapped him across the face. "Do not question my command!" he roared. Gangrel whimpered as he slammed the lid of the casket down, latching it.
Ravyn was trembling. Her memory of seeing Gangrel killed flickered through her mind. She had been fighting that monster in the mask when he had come to her aide. But now, she could see herself being saved. The black gloved hand pulling the man beast from her, throwing him onto the bench in the locker room. Looking into the aqua blue eyes, touching the red and black mask-
She shook her head, as if trying to shake the memories away. Taker looked at her, gray eyes questioning.
"I'm fine, Master," she blocked her mind to him, so he wouldn't see what she had seen. "Just disappointed that a Brother of the Darkness would attack me."
He smiled. "Soon, he will remember you. He is not completely healed yet."
"I hope he is healed soon, Master," Ravyn gave her wicked smile. "I am tired. I will retire for the day."
"Sleep well, child," Undertaker kissed her forehead, watching the raven haired woman walk to her quarters.
'Why am I here?'
That voice again, whispering in the back of his mind.
"Shut up!" Undertaker snapped aloud, his voice gruff and betraying his irritation.
Outside the Apartment
=================
He was there again. Staring towards Heavynne's bedroom window. Somehow he had teleported himself there without even thinking about it.
Taker sighed. He must be losing his mind. With trying to keep the hold over Ravyn's mind, which was nearly impossible, it didn't surprise him. It took most of his strength to confuse her memories while Kane and her sisters' kept trying to probe her mind.
Now he was here. The sun was just rising, giving the sky a warm autumn glow. Heavynne was on the balconey, as if she knew he was there. She was wearing a light green nightgown that buttoned at the front and fell to her knees. The hem ruffled in the slight breeze.
'Why are you here?'
Dammit, she was in his mind again.
'I don't know.'
Then he was on the balconey with her.
"Taker-" she said this verbally, as if trying to distance herself from their mind link.
'Heavynne-' He said in her mind. Her eyes widened. He realized he'd never spoken her name before.
"Heavynne." He said out loud.
The peridot green eyes were shattered. Tears hung on sooty black lashes. Goosebumps were raised on her pale flesh.
"Why are you here?" she whispered in a choked voice.
"I don't know," Taker was surprised at the huskiness of his own voice. "I don't know."
He looked away from the witch. This had to be a trick of her magick.
'It's no magick,' whispered that voice in the back of his mind. 'It's where you belong.'
Saalah was there, in his mind. Her red eyes blazed. "Where are you, Undertaker?"
Why couldn't she sense where he was? She always knew where all the Ministry were.
'I'm taking care of business.' Then he put the block up. Defying Saalah was new to him, but it felt like the right thing to do.
Then he kissed the witch. Her mouth was soft and tasted like mint toothpaste. She tried to pull away, but he grasped her shoulders, pulling her closer. Her tiny body clung to him as he explored her mouth with his tongue. Taker moved his mouth to her jaw, nibbling to her neck. Heavynne's head fell back, giving him better access to the tender flesh.
He pushed a strap off her shoulder, and the green silk fell away from one breast. His large hand warmed the flesh there. The calloused palm rubbed over the tender nipple.
"We can't-" Heavynne gasped.
"We can-" his lips closed around the hardened pink nub.
Light exploded in Undertaker's mind. A brilliant white light, tinged with green. The dreams came back vividly.
-------------------------------------
They were in a place of light. It was calm and loving there. Undertaker looked down at himself, realizing he wore white and dark green. Dark green leather pants and boots, white shirt, and dark green vest. He felt the circlet on his head, recognizing the etching of stag horns on the gold metal. He was seated on a throne.
Beside him sat Heavynne. She wore a gown of pure white, the bodice encrusted with peridots. A silver circlet sat on her forehead, etchings of the triple moon engraved into the metal. A matching silver band encircled her upper left arm.
Thunder rolled, a dark cloud covered the sky above them. Rain began pelting them. But it wasn't rain. When Taker looked at Heavynne, blood was running down her face, the droplets staining her gown red. She stood.
"They are here!" she exclaimed.
"Who? What's going on? Heavynne-"
She was gone, and he stood in the blood rain alone.
"Heavynne!" His scream went unheard.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
He was back underground, in his quarters. Had he really gone to see Heavynne? Or was that a dream?
"Undertaker, come see me at once." Saalah said in his mind, her voice of a banshee almost shattering his minds' ears.
He teleported to the throne room. Saalah was alone.
"Where is Belphagor?" Undertaker asked, kneeling before the demoness.
"This is no concern of his," she sniffed, then gestured for him to come to her. Taker moved closer to her.
"My dear Dark One," Saalah purred, then her claws raked over his chest. "How dare you defy me!"
So it wasn't a dream.
"I was toying with the witches, Mistress." He ammended. "I wanted to surprise you with their torture tonight."
Saalah smiled, her fangs gleaming in the dim light of the candles.
"You forget to whom you speak," she hissed. "You belong to me. I shall mark it as such. Lift your chin." Saalah took a hold of his chin, tilting it back as far as it would go.
Then the searing pain began. Taker didn't have to look to see what the demoness was doing. She was magically tattooing her name on the tender flesh of his throat. The gothic black lettering itched and burned.
"To mortals it will say Sara," she whispered to him, kissing his forehead. "And all will know you belong to me!"
"Yes, Mistress," Taker bowed his head, kissing her hand.
"Now go prepare for the match tonight," Saalah dismissed him.