Death Is Only The Beginning
A WWE wrestling fanfiction
By: Jay 2K Winger
Disclaimer Stuff: The characters herein are the property of World Wrestling Entertainment (and don't get me started on how much I dislike the fact that they Got The "F" Out), and are not used with the intention of making a profit. This story is written to explore a few little concepts I thought up in regards to the storyline in question.
Teaser: The Dead Man will not rest in peace after being buried alive by his brother. A fictionalized version of the current Taker/Kane storyline.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Raw, two weeks after the Rumble…
~*~*~*~*~*~
The cold of the void was slowly waning. The power was returning to him.
It both emboldened and terrified him. He was gathering the energy, mustering the strength necessary to exact his retribution. This was his goal, of course. His brother deserved to suffer for the sins committed against him. Despite the sins he himself had committed against his brother, revenge needed to be served. But at the same time, he knew he was stepping away from himself with each iota of power he summoned to himself.
Ah, yes. As his power returned, he knew he was capable of more than mere manipulation of electricity and broadcast signals. The time was right to give his brother another reminder of what happens when you cross the Dead.
Now...
~*~*~*~*~*~
Kane was in a foul mood as he entered the arena. Once again, the stagehands and technicians backstage all endeavored to give him a wide berth, but he approached one hapless tech who wasn't quite fast enough. Grabbing the man by the throat, he demanded, "What's the deal with the wires and signals?"
"Th-they're all fine! No way anyone can hijack the broadcast again!"
Kane pulled the man closer and sneered in his face. "See that it stays that way. Now, where's Bischoff's office?" After getting the directions, he threw the man aside, causing pipes and tubing to fall on top of him. He smiled at the shout of pain this earned him, and stalked off. Rage simmered in his head, as it nearly always did. It wasn't that difficult for him to become enraged. Anger was the ground state of his being. It always had been, since the day his father told him who was responsible for the fire that scarred him. Indeed, the fury that sang in his veins and burned in his brain was most often directed toward his brother. Even in those times when they were apparently amicable and getting along, the distrust and resentment was always there.
The one time when he came close to actually forgiving him was over a year ago. He had been chasing the World Heavyweight title held by Triple H, when the arrogant son of a bitch dredged up his past with Katie Vick. Despite outward appearances, Kane did not go in for necrophilia. His grief at her death had been true, and he would never have sullied her memory by ... doing that to her, as Helmsley had done to that mannequin. At the same time, his brother had been pursuing Brock Lesnar's WWE Championship, suffering a broken hand which he stubbornly refused to let heal properly. On top of all this, Lesnar and Heyman threatened his wife and unborn child, then dug up some of his past as well, namely, Tracy, his ex-girlfriend from before his marriage with Sara, alleging that he'd still been involved with her.
That night, at No Mercy, he'd come very close to forgiving him, seeing him in as much misery as he was. He'd been so close he'd tried to make light of the situation! "How was your week?" Pah! How naïve he was, to think that his brother had changed since shedding the Dark Side. No matter the persona he adopted, his brother would always remain fundamentally the same: a cold-hearted bastard.
Kane didn't bother to knock on Bischoff's door. He threw it open and advanced, nearly pinning Bischoff against his desk. "Have you found out," he growled, "who's been trying to humiliate me?"
He could see the man mentally sift through possible responses, looking for the one that meant the least amount of pain, trying to decide which lie was best. "Well, it hasn't been as easy as I-"
The monster leaned forward, mismatched eyes narrowing. "Don't lie to me, Bischoff," he warned.
"No, I haven't found out who's doing it," the general manager admitted. "We can't even find out how they're disrupting our video feed! I brought in some computer trackers. If someone tries it again tonight, we'll find out where they are and then, Kane, I promise you, we'll prosecute the parties responsible to the fullest extent of the law!"
Bischoff had to lean back at almost a ninety-degree angle as Kane glowered at him. "You think," came the snarl, "I give a damn about the law?!"
The GM made a 'time-out' gesture. "Hold on, Kane, please, calm down! I'm doing everything I can!"
"You're screwing around!" Kane roared. "You're not doing anything!" An evil little smirk crept across his lips. "That makes me upset... do you know what happens," he mused, glancing over at a potted fern on a corner of the desk, "when people make me upset?"
Bischoff followed the monster's gaze to the fern, then flinched back, recoiling in alarm as the plant started to blacken, burning slowly, then more quickly. Kane turned back, squinting at him with his pale eye. "Find out who's doing this to me," he sneered, "or next time it'll be you that gets set on fire!"
"Okay, okay! I'll do it! I'll do it!" Bischoff squirmed a bit, still trapped against the desk. "But, please, you need to focus a bit more on your match tonight. You're facing Goldberg, and-"
"Hah!" Kane grinned. "Goldberg? Tonight, I'll do what Triple H couldn't do by himself. I'm going to destroy him."
"But I can give you something else! I can, um, give you a real easy warm-up match!"
The mismatched eyes narrowed again. "Warm-up match like what?"
"I know you wanted to get your hands on Trish last week," the general manager said, "so I'll give you that match tonight! Jericho's already used up his favor. He can't stop it this time."
"Hmph. That little man's just going to try to save her anyway," Kane spat. "Why should I-" He stopped, then gave a slow, cruel smile. "Yeah. Yeah, book me against Trish."
Bischoff nodded hurriedly, glancing back over at the burning fern. "You've got it! Trish for an appetizer, Goldberg for the main course!"
"And whoever's behind these gongs for dessert," chuckled the monster as he finally backed up and left the office, leaving the GM to hurry to the fire extinguisher.
~*~*~*~*~*~
The smell of Trish's fear was very appealing. He could smell it all the way up the ramp as she stood in the ring like a deer in headlights. It wasn't until he actually stepped in the ring that the 'fight or flight' factor kicked in and she attempted to run. He laughed, grabbing her by her pretty blond hair and pulling her back. "No, no, no," he chided. "Stay, Trish, stay and take your medicine!" He grabbed her around her throat and prepared to break her in half with a massive chokeslam when, just as he'd expected, her knight in shining armor came to her rescue.
Jericho had turned up and attacked him from behind. Kane released her and turned to face the self-proclaimed 'King of the World,' suffering a surprise clothesline that took him out of the ring. As he stood back up, his perpetual anger starting to boil over as he heard Jericho shout, "Get out of here!" to Trish, who quickly did just that. The monster shoved the timekeeper from his chair and brought it to bear as Y2J came out to finish the attack. Kane swung the chair only once, but given how strong he was, once was enough. Jericho's knee buckled and he collapsed, screaming.
"Look at you, the hero!" The Big Red Monster pulled him up and cradled the knee, hoisting him high as he charged at the ring post. "Here's what happens to heroes who try to fight me!" He slammed him knee-first into that post, then obligingly stepped back as the referees and officials ran out to check on Jericho. He climbed back in the ring and laughed, looking down at the would-be hero, clutching his knee in agony. "Bye-bye, hero," he taunted from inside the ropes as Y2J was helped backstage. "Give my regards to Trish!"
He paced in the ring as events went on backstage, preparing himself for the imminent arrival of Goldberg. For all his boasting earlier, Kane knew that he did have a bit of a task in taking down 'Da Man,' but nothing he couldn't overcome. He just had to be careful not to get ahead of himself. No more getting distracted. A little gong and localized power outages weren't going to unnerve him this week. No way. It was all in his head, anyway.
As he expected, Goldberg came out aggressive, throwing out punches almost as powerful as his brother's. The monster was rocked back and beaten around the ring, then snarled as Da Man attempted a whip. He reversed it and smashed him in the face with a big boot. "I don't believe the hype," he snarled at him as he started to dominate the Atlanta native. "But I do believe you're going to learn the meaning of pain!" And so it went on for several minutes. Neither man was backing down, neither man could gain the upper hand. Every time he thought he had Goldberg beat, the aggressive man kicked out.
"Enough of this!" Kane snarled, grabbing him around the throat and chokeslamming him without hesitation. As Goldberg hit the mat, the lights suddenly went out. Kane rolled his eyes. "Not this stupid crap again," he swore.
There was a bright flash, a clap of thunder. Kane blinked rapidly, temporarily blinded, the after-image of a lightning bolt seared across his vision. Sparks and smoke flew from one of the ring posts. The TitanTron flickered and hissed with the multicolored static again, as the mysterious video played.
Kane...
"You're just a voice in my head!" Kane snapped, glaring at the screen. "You're not there!"
Yes, I'm a voice in your head, Kane. But not a voice of your head.
The lights had come back up in that same eerie blue light, as behind Kane, unnoticed, Goldberg got back to his feet. "This is just a trick! You're not real! You're just a memory!"
For now, yes, just a memory, but I. Am. Very. Real.
The lights returned to normal. "Just a cheap trick," he scoffed, turning back to his victim, just in time to get steamrolled by the infamous Spear. Goldberg got to his feet, stomping the mat and giving a primal scream, before noticing the smoke that was starting to emanate from under the ring, flowing toward Kane's prone body. Goldberg shook his head, giving a brief, "Screw this shit!" before leaving the ring and running up the ramp.
It is inevitable, Kane. You can deny it all you want, but the time is approaching...
Kane's eyes rolled in their sockets as he recovered from the Spear. He snarled, sitting bolt upright, like Michael Myers from Halloween. "Nothing is approaching," he growled, eyes clenched shut in fury. "You're just a figment of my imagination!"
Things have been set in motion already, Kane. You will know soon enough that I am coming back.
Kane opened his eyes, screaming, "Shut up! My brother is DEAD!" Then his voice died as he noticed the smoke swirling around him in the ring. Fear overtook his mind and he fled from the ring, fleeing through the crowd. Back around the ring, the technicians and stagehands could hear over their earpieces, "We've lost our feed! Where's this coming from? All cameras check in! Check all the wires! Where's this feed coming from? ..."
~*~*~*~*~*~
Kane slowed down finally as he reached his locker room. The instinctive 'flight' mechanism faded from its control and he realized what he'd just done. He clenched his fists in rage, veins standing out on his shaved head. He'd just been mocked, humiliated again! A stage light set up nearby exploded as he stormed past, barreling straight for Bischoff's office. He kicked the door in and roared, "Bischoff! You swore it wasn't going to happen again!" A potted plant in the corner started to smolder.
The GM retreated behind his desk. "Kane! Please! We're doing everything we can! My tracker's should be zeroing in on the source of the pirate video feed right now!"
"You're lying," Kane snarled, stepping forward slowly, deliberately. "I hate it when people lie to me!" The plant was starting to smoke really good now.
"No, no, I swear! They should be here any minute with the results! Then we'll find out who's behind it, Kane, I promise you."
Kane took a deep breath, forcing his natural anger back down to ground level. The smoke subsided from the plant as a (now nervous) technician edged into the room. "Um, Mr. Bischoff, we did everything we could, but uh..."
"What?" the general manager asked. "Where's the feed coming from?"
"That's just it, sir," the tech sputtered, holding out a sheaf of paper. "According to our trackers, the feed's not coming from anywhere! There were no transmissions, no pirate connections to our satellite feed. Nothing!"
Bischoff gaped as he stared at the papers, rifling through them. "That's impossible! That would mean someone's got a tape they're using for this, and I've got security guards in the truck now! This pirate feed can't just come out of thin air!"
"I don't know what else to tell you, Mr. Bischoff," the tech shrugged. "But apparently that's just what happened."
Kane's face distorted in barely-controlled fury. The potted plant forsook all attempts at staying intact and burst into flame. The tech jumped and fled in terror as Kane marched up to the desk and ripped the papers out of the GM's hands. "You made me a promise."
"Look, Kane, what's happening isn't possible! You just heard the man!"
"The Undertaker's DEAD!" Kane shouted. "He's DEAD!"
"I didn't say anything about the Undertaker!" Bischoff snapped.
Kane stopped, eyes flicking back and forth as he replayed what he just said. Snarling, he turned about and stalked out of the room. What was wrong with him? His brother was dead. He buried him! Nothing could survive that. There was no way he could be hearing his brother's voice in his head, and yet he was. There was no way his brother could be hijacking the TitanTron and broadcast feeds, and yet he apparently was doing just that. There was no way lightning could strike indoors, and yet it did. There was no way smoke could come from nowhere, and yet it had. Someone was playing some really messed up trick on him, and there was going to be hell to pay.
Oh, yes. Hell, indeed.
~*~*~*~*~*~
His brother had no idea what was in store for him. The world did not have the words to describe it, and 'hell' certainly didn't do the job.
The power primeval was coming back to him now. Control of the elements was there, to be certain. So was his electromagnetic manipulation, or whatever it was. He could control the lights again, control the darkness to a degree. He could call down the lightning and it was only a matter of time before other powers came back to him.
... His humanity was slipping away. That worried him. He could hear the voices in his own head, too, particularly the one that spoke in tongues and archaic languages no longer spoken by any mortal. The voice that urged him to take back the mantle of darkness, to reclaim his throne, was stronger, as well.
The time of alignment was nearing, too, slowly, week by week, it was nearing. Little more than a month, it was. How ironic, that it just happened to coincide with the billionaire's grandest spectacle.
Just forty-one days. Forty-one days to rally his power and exact his revenge.
Forty.
Thirty-nine.
Thirty-eight...
A WWE wrestling fanfiction
By: Jay 2K Winger
Disclaimer Stuff: The characters herein are the property of World Wrestling Entertainment (and don't get me started on how much I dislike the fact that they Got The "F" Out), and are not used with the intention of making a profit. This story is written to explore a few little concepts I thought up in regards to the storyline in question.
Teaser: The Dead Man will not rest in peace after being buried alive by his brother. A fictionalized version of the current Taker/Kane storyline.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Raw, two weeks after the Rumble…
~*~*~*~*~*~
The cold of the void was slowly waning. The power was returning to him.
It both emboldened and terrified him. He was gathering the energy, mustering the strength necessary to exact his retribution. This was his goal, of course. His brother deserved to suffer for the sins committed against him. Despite the sins he himself had committed against his brother, revenge needed to be served. But at the same time, he knew he was stepping away from himself with each iota of power he summoned to himself.
Ah, yes. As his power returned, he knew he was capable of more than mere manipulation of electricity and broadcast signals. The time was right to give his brother another reminder of what happens when you cross the Dead.
Now...
~*~*~*~*~*~
Kane was in a foul mood as he entered the arena. Once again, the stagehands and technicians backstage all endeavored to give him a wide berth, but he approached one hapless tech who wasn't quite fast enough. Grabbing the man by the throat, he demanded, "What's the deal with the wires and signals?"
"Th-they're all fine! No way anyone can hijack the broadcast again!"
Kane pulled the man closer and sneered in his face. "See that it stays that way. Now, where's Bischoff's office?" After getting the directions, he threw the man aside, causing pipes and tubing to fall on top of him. He smiled at the shout of pain this earned him, and stalked off. Rage simmered in his head, as it nearly always did. It wasn't that difficult for him to become enraged. Anger was the ground state of his being. It always had been, since the day his father told him who was responsible for the fire that scarred him. Indeed, the fury that sang in his veins and burned in his brain was most often directed toward his brother. Even in those times when they were apparently amicable and getting along, the distrust and resentment was always there.
The one time when he came close to actually forgiving him was over a year ago. He had been chasing the World Heavyweight title held by Triple H, when the arrogant son of a bitch dredged up his past with Katie Vick. Despite outward appearances, Kane did not go in for necrophilia. His grief at her death had been true, and he would never have sullied her memory by ... doing that to her, as Helmsley had done to that mannequin. At the same time, his brother had been pursuing Brock Lesnar's WWE Championship, suffering a broken hand which he stubbornly refused to let heal properly. On top of all this, Lesnar and Heyman threatened his wife and unborn child, then dug up some of his past as well, namely, Tracy, his ex-girlfriend from before his marriage with Sara, alleging that he'd still been involved with her.
That night, at No Mercy, he'd come very close to forgiving him, seeing him in as much misery as he was. He'd been so close he'd tried to make light of the situation! "How was your week?" Pah! How naïve he was, to think that his brother had changed since shedding the Dark Side. No matter the persona he adopted, his brother would always remain fundamentally the same: a cold-hearted bastard.
Kane didn't bother to knock on Bischoff's door. He threw it open and advanced, nearly pinning Bischoff against his desk. "Have you found out," he growled, "who's been trying to humiliate me?"
He could see the man mentally sift through possible responses, looking for the one that meant the least amount of pain, trying to decide which lie was best. "Well, it hasn't been as easy as I-"
The monster leaned forward, mismatched eyes narrowing. "Don't lie to me, Bischoff," he warned.
"No, I haven't found out who's doing it," the general manager admitted. "We can't even find out how they're disrupting our video feed! I brought in some computer trackers. If someone tries it again tonight, we'll find out where they are and then, Kane, I promise you, we'll prosecute the parties responsible to the fullest extent of the law!"
Bischoff had to lean back at almost a ninety-degree angle as Kane glowered at him. "You think," came the snarl, "I give a damn about the law?!"
The GM made a 'time-out' gesture. "Hold on, Kane, please, calm down! I'm doing everything I can!"
"You're screwing around!" Kane roared. "You're not doing anything!" An evil little smirk crept across his lips. "That makes me upset... do you know what happens," he mused, glancing over at a potted fern on a corner of the desk, "when people make me upset?"
Bischoff followed the monster's gaze to the fern, then flinched back, recoiling in alarm as the plant started to blacken, burning slowly, then more quickly. Kane turned back, squinting at him with his pale eye. "Find out who's doing this to me," he sneered, "or next time it'll be you that gets set on fire!"
"Okay, okay! I'll do it! I'll do it!" Bischoff squirmed a bit, still trapped against the desk. "But, please, you need to focus a bit more on your match tonight. You're facing Goldberg, and-"
"Hah!" Kane grinned. "Goldberg? Tonight, I'll do what Triple H couldn't do by himself. I'm going to destroy him."
"But I can give you something else! I can, um, give you a real easy warm-up match!"
The mismatched eyes narrowed again. "Warm-up match like what?"
"I know you wanted to get your hands on Trish last week," the general manager said, "so I'll give you that match tonight! Jericho's already used up his favor. He can't stop it this time."
"Hmph. That little man's just going to try to save her anyway," Kane spat. "Why should I-" He stopped, then gave a slow, cruel smile. "Yeah. Yeah, book me against Trish."
Bischoff nodded hurriedly, glancing back over at the burning fern. "You've got it! Trish for an appetizer, Goldberg for the main course!"
"And whoever's behind these gongs for dessert," chuckled the monster as he finally backed up and left the office, leaving the GM to hurry to the fire extinguisher.
~*~*~*~*~*~
The smell of Trish's fear was very appealing. He could smell it all the way up the ramp as she stood in the ring like a deer in headlights. It wasn't until he actually stepped in the ring that the 'fight or flight' factor kicked in and she attempted to run. He laughed, grabbing her by her pretty blond hair and pulling her back. "No, no, no," he chided. "Stay, Trish, stay and take your medicine!" He grabbed her around her throat and prepared to break her in half with a massive chokeslam when, just as he'd expected, her knight in shining armor came to her rescue.
Jericho had turned up and attacked him from behind. Kane released her and turned to face the self-proclaimed 'King of the World,' suffering a surprise clothesline that took him out of the ring. As he stood back up, his perpetual anger starting to boil over as he heard Jericho shout, "Get out of here!" to Trish, who quickly did just that. The monster shoved the timekeeper from his chair and brought it to bear as Y2J came out to finish the attack. Kane swung the chair only once, but given how strong he was, once was enough. Jericho's knee buckled and he collapsed, screaming.
"Look at you, the hero!" The Big Red Monster pulled him up and cradled the knee, hoisting him high as he charged at the ring post. "Here's what happens to heroes who try to fight me!" He slammed him knee-first into that post, then obligingly stepped back as the referees and officials ran out to check on Jericho. He climbed back in the ring and laughed, looking down at the would-be hero, clutching his knee in agony. "Bye-bye, hero," he taunted from inside the ropes as Y2J was helped backstage. "Give my regards to Trish!"
He paced in the ring as events went on backstage, preparing himself for the imminent arrival of Goldberg. For all his boasting earlier, Kane knew that he did have a bit of a task in taking down 'Da Man,' but nothing he couldn't overcome. He just had to be careful not to get ahead of himself. No more getting distracted. A little gong and localized power outages weren't going to unnerve him this week. No way. It was all in his head, anyway.
As he expected, Goldberg came out aggressive, throwing out punches almost as powerful as his brother's. The monster was rocked back and beaten around the ring, then snarled as Da Man attempted a whip. He reversed it and smashed him in the face with a big boot. "I don't believe the hype," he snarled at him as he started to dominate the Atlanta native. "But I do believe you're going to learn the meaning of pain!" And so it went on for several minutes. Neither man was backing down, neither man could gain the upper hand. Every time he thought he had Goldberg beat, the aggressive man kicked out.
"Enough of this!" Kane snarled, grabbing him around the throat and chokeslamming him without hesitation. As Goldberg hit the mat, the lights suddenly went out. Kane rolled his eyes. "Not this stupid crap again," he swore.
There was a bright flash, a clap of thunder. Kane blinked rapidly, temporarily blinded, the after-image of a lightning bolt seared across his vision. Sparks and smoke flew from one of the ring posts. The TitanTron flickered and hissed with the multicolored static again, as the mysterious video played.
Kane...
"You're just a voice in my head!" Kane snapped, glaring at the screen. "You're not there!"
Yes, I'm a voice in your head, Kane. But not a voice of your head.
The lights had come back up in that same eerie blue light, as behind Kane, unnoticed, Goldberg got back to his feet. "This is just a trick! You're not real! You're just a memory!"
For now, yes, just a memory, but I. Am. Very. Real.
The lights returned to normal. "Just a cheap trick," he scoffed, turning back to his victim, just in time to get steamrolled by the infamous Spear. Goldberg got to his feet, stomping the mat and giving a primal scream, before noticing the smoke that was starting to emanate from under the ring, flowing toward Kane's prone body. Goldberg shook his head, giving a brief, "Screw this shit!" before leaving the ring and running up the ramp.
It is inevitable, Kane. You can deny it all you want, but the time is approaching...
Kane's eyes rolled in their sockets as he recovered from the Spear. He snarled, sitting bolt upright, like Michael Myers from Halloween. "Nothing is approaching," he growled, eyes clenched shut in fury. "You're just a figment of my imagination!"
Things have been set in motion already, Kane. You will know soon enough that I am coming back.
Kane opened his eyes, screaming, "Shut up! My brother is DEAD!" Then his voice died as he noticed the smoke swirling around him in the ring. Fear overtook his mind and he fled from the ring, fleeing through the crowd. Back around the ring, the technicians and stagehands could hear over their earpieces, "We've lost our feed! Where's this coming from? All cameras check in! Check all the wires! Where's this feed coming from? ..."
~*~*~*~*~*~
Kane slowed down finally as he reached his locker room. The instinctive 'flight' mechanism faded from its control and he realized what he'd just done. He clenched his fists in rage, veins standing out on his shaved head. He'd just been mocked, humiliated again! A stage light set up nearby exploded as he stormed past, barreling straight for Bischoff's office. He kicked the door in and roared, "Bischoff! You swore it wasn't going to happen again!" A potted plant in the corner started to smolder.
The GM retreated behind his desk. "Kane! Please! We're doing everything we can! My tracker's should be zeroing in on the source of the pirate video feed right now!"
"You're lying," Kane snarled, stepping forward slowly, deliberately. "I hate it when people lie to me!" The plant was starting to smoke really good now.
"No, no, I swear! They should be here any minute with the results! Then we'll find out who's behind it, Kane, I promise you."
Kane took a deep breath, forcing his natural anger back down to ground level. The smoke subsided from the plant as a (now nervous) technician edged into the room. "Um, Mr. Bischoff, we did everything we could, but uh..."
"What?" the general manager asked. "Where's the feed coming from?"
"That's just it, sir," the tech sputtered, holding out a sheaf of paper. "According to our trackers, the feed's not coming from anywhere! There were no transmissions, no pirate connections to our satellite feed. Nothing!"
Bischoff gaped as he stared at the papers, rifling through them. "That's impossible! That would mean someone's got a tape they're using for this, and I've got security guards in the truck now! This pirate feed can't just come out of thin air!"
"I don't know what else to tell you, Mr. Bischoff," the tech shrugged. "But apparently that's just what happened."
Kane's face distorted in barely-controlled fury. The potted plant forsook all attempts at staying intact and burst into flame. The tech jumped and fled in terror as Kane marched up to the desk and ripped the papers out of the GM's hands. "You made me a promise."
"Look, Kane, what's happening isn't possible! You just heard the man!"
"The Undertaker's DEAD!" Kane shouted. "He's DEAD!"
"I didn't say anything about the Undertaker!" Bischoff snapped.
Kane stopped, eyes flicking back and forth as he replayed what he just said. Snarling, he turned about and stalked out of the room. What was wrong with him? His brother was dead. He buried him! Nothing could survive that. There was no way he could be hearing his brother's voice in his head, and yet he was. There was no way his brother could be hijacking the TitanTron and broadcast feeds, and yet he apparently was doing just that. There was no way lightning could strike indoors, and yet it did. There was no way smoke could come from nowhere, and yet it had. Someone was playing some really messed up trick on him, and there was going to be hell to pay.
Oh, yes. Hell, indeed.
~*~*~*~*~*~
His brother had no idea what was in store for him. The world did not have the words to describe it, and 'hell' certainly didn't do the job.
The power primeval was coming back to him now. Control of the elements was there, to be certain. So was his electromagnetic manipulation, or whatever it was. He could control the lights again, control the darkness to a degree. He could call down the lightning and it was only a matter of time before other powers came back to him.
... His humanity was slipping away. That worried him. He could hear the voices in his own head, too, particularly the one that spoke in tongues and archaic languages no longer spoken by any mortal. The voice that urged him to take back the mantle of darkness, to reclaim his throne, was stronger, as well.
The time of alignment was nearing, too, slowly, week by week, it was nearing. Little more than a month, it was. How ironic, that it just happened to coincide with the billionaire's grandest spectacle.
Just forty-one days. Forty-one days to rally his power and exact his revenge.
Forty.
Thirty-nine.
Thirty-eight...