Title: Somebody, Someone, Somewhere

Characters: Lita, Trish, Molly, Stacy, Victoria, Lilian, Dawn, Edge, Jericho, Christian, Evolution, Orton, Benoit, others.

Disclaimer: None of the characters you recognize belong to me. However, plot idea is mine. Don't steal. -_-

Distribution: If you want it up on your site, please ask me first.

Rating:

Spoilers: Survivor Series '04

Summary: A dangerous game of cat and mouse is being played ... and the outcome will be their undoing.

Notes: This is going to be an extremely dark fic. I'm expecting it to cover situations such as rape, abuse etc. Matt/Lita/Kane storyline never happened.

Part (1/?)

Ohgodohgodohgod.

Bolting upright with a gasp, she tore at the sheets that clung to her sweat soaked skin, dark eyes wildly scanning the room. She saw nothing in the deep shadows, a fact that did nothing to comfort her. She knew well better than anyone what was in the dark. Drawing in a shaky breath, she lifted a hand to her hair and frowned when she saw the tremors that shook it.

Instinctively, the hand clenched into a tight fist, fighting the trembling. The air left her lungs in a quick unexpected rush and she inhaled again slowly, ignoring the urge to swallow the air in a quick gulp.

She couldn't, no, she wouldn't panic. Damned if she'd panic. It was only a dream, which meant that it didn't mean anything. Dreams didn't come true and she'd be the first to admit that. So damned if she'd let herself panic.

Staring at her hand, she unclenched her fist, gritting her teeth until the trembling slowed to a stop. Allowing herself a small sigh of relief, she shifted off the bed, reaching for the lamp sitting on the bedside.

Relaxing slightly now that there was light in the room, she realized that her throat was incredibly dry. Even as her breath hitched she reasoned with herself. She just needed some water, that was all. She always had a dry throat whenever she woke up from a bad dream, and this one had been worse than most. So, she would drink some water and then she would be fine.

She stood up and began walking towards the tiny kitchen that came with the room, swearing as she stumbled over her boots. Great. Just fucking great. Her night just kept getting better and better.

Now keeping a wary eye on the floor, she picked her way across the room, gratefully reaching for a glass and filling it with water. Sipping at the cool liquid slowly, she relaxed fully.

It was alright. She was okay.

A small smile curved her lips as she silently laughed at herself, happily pushing the details of the dream to the back of her mind. Imagine her, getting that worked up over a dream. She didn't think you could get much sillier. She shook her head, the fear in her eyes slowly receding.

A sound outside her door caused the smile to fade. Why in the hell would someone be outside her door at this time of the night? Suddenly wary again, she walked to the door and looked through the peep hole. She saw nothing but the pale cream of the wall opposite. She laughed again, this time out loud. The sound of her voice eased some of the tension holding her back tight, so she laughed again.

She turned around, shaking her head at her own stupidity. Of course no one would be outside. There was no reason for them to be. Obviously that damned dream had affected her more than she had thought. Rolling her eyes, she started towards the bed, still laughing.

The quick succession of knocks on the door stopped her in her tracks.

She whirled around, eyes widening. The glass she was still holding slipped through her hands and fell, water soaking into the carpet at her feet. She didn't notice it. Her mind was still echoing with the resounding sound of hand meeting wood. Staring at the door apprehensively, her breaths came in short, shallow gasps. A scraping sound caught her attention and her eyes fell to the floor, taking in the white sheet of paper that had been slipped through the miniscule gap between door and carpet.

Hesitant, she walked to the door again and stared through the peephole. When she saw nothing but the cream wall, she frowned. Her eyes, falling to the folded piece of paper, darkened in confusion. She bent over and carefully picked it up, holding it gingerly by the edges.

Standing upright once more, she looked outside one last time before eyeing the sheet of paper she held in her hand. Her name was neatly printed on one side, the ink black and thick. She closed her eyes once, slowly and gritted her teeth once more. In a fluid motion she opened the fold and then stared at it, eyes glazing over. The paper started to shake in response to the violent trembling of her hands. Doing nothing to stop them, she instead reached out for her phone, dialling a number she knew as well as she knew her own.

Ohgodohgodohgodohgod.

The thought ran through her mind in an incoherent rush as she waited.

"Look, don't hang up!" She hated that her voice sounded so shrill, but if she was hung up on, she wasn't sure what she would do. Taking a deep breath, she continued, praying that she wouldn't start crying.

"I know I'm not someone you want to talk to right now. Or ever, but god, I need your help."

She trailed off, her eyes resting on the piece of paper, before continuing, voice shaky.

"It's started again…"

In a dark room, he sighed with pleasure. His eyes sparkled with delight, shone with insanity. Stroking his hand over the sultry face that stared up at him out of the glossy photo, he smiled, a slow, easy grin that dominated his face.

A sound that was almost a purr escaped his lips as he stretched long limbs. Standing, he strode through the room, steps resonant with energy. In the black of the room, his face glowed with an eerie beauty as he carefully made a small mark against the wall in black ink.

It had been a struggle to choose which of them would be the first. Each had her own reasons, but nothing that had truly thought made them beg to be chosen. So he had relied on memory, weighing moments with moments. He had changed his mind over and over, but now it was done.

He had chosen the first, and he believed he had chosen wisely.

He liked to think of her as Eve. Not because she was the first, but because of what she represented, what she offered – what she was. Temptress, seductress. Always after the forbidden. The worst of her. The best of her. She would be the first to know, to learn.

His Eve. She was different. Oh, she was a whore, as all of the others were, but there was something innocent about her. Something pure mingled in with the taint of darkness. And there was a lot of darkness in her. More than in most.

Really, she was such a bad little girl. He was doing her a favour when you thought about it. He would teach her, make her understand.

He sighed again, though there was regret mingled in with the pleasure this time. He didn't really want to hurt her. But she needed to be punished, just as the others did. He'd be gentle with her, he thought. Maybe.

He thought back to the words that he'd written earlier. She would be reading it soon. Who knew… maybe she was reading it even as he thought it. A thrill of anticipation ran through his body, made him shudder.

It had begun then, as easy as that.

TBC