TITLE: The Shadow Dancer
AUTHOR NAME: Marlena R. Snape
CATEGORY: Drama
SUB-CATEGORY: General
RATING: R. Blatantly, it'll get bad.
DISTRIBUTION : Ask and you might receive.
GENRE : Wrestling (WWE/TNA - AU)
CAST: Malela Trombley OC, Chris Sabin, TNA roster, some WWE cameos, and an unnamed assailant.

SUMMARY:

Malela (Ma-le-la) Trombley was a WWE diva. She had a good career, she was a former Women's Champion, had a lot of amazing friends, but something went wrong. She had a vivid affair with a fellow superstar, and after they broke it off, Malela left the WWE for 'reasons unnamed'. Her contract is free though, and she's picked up by Total Non-Stop Action. It was her chance to really shine.
Malela has a new man in her life as well. TNA's Chris Sabin. Her alias on screen, Taylor, is the valet for America's Most Wanted (with Jeff Jarrett and Gail Kim) and is in the midst of a kidnapping storyline. But what happens when her storyline becomes all too real, and a shadow dancer is out to not only to make her pay for her past infidelity, but also, to prove he loves her? Love makes you do desperate things, this is one of them.

DISCLAIMER:
I've been dying to do a fic to prove I'm crazy D This is IT. "Sleeping With Ghosts" was bad, to where I got, but this one? Oh doggie, you're not even going to KNOW who the shadow dancer IS until it's, well, too late. Bum bom bum! Malela is mine, that's about it. I'm not dating Chris Sabin, I'm not managing Chris Harris and James Storm. I'm not friends with Gail Kim or Jeff Jarrett. You know the deal by NOW. Note: there are two main types of chapters. Present and video. However, there is one past. Hope it's all clear.

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Chapter Four: Not Okay

(Video)

The video picked up one more time: a seemingly endless reality as we're no longer in that warehouse. But more over, some place rather nice looking. But it was still dark. Malela was shown tied to a bed; dressed much like that of a porcelain doll. She was in a flowing red velvet dress with ripples, her hair in ringlets, and leather shoes with white ankle socks. Her makeup was even fixed like that of a dolls; bright eye shadow, dark eyeliner, rich lip color of pink and rosy cheeks.
She looked cute, if it was a Halloween party get-up. Not a real life nightmare.

She was either sound asleep or knocked out cold. By drugs or force, no one could say. If there was force, though, the makeup covered it well. In the corner of the room, where it was darkest, the outline of a figure was shown in a large armchair. The figure had a Phantom of the Opera mask on, but the rest of his/her face was covered by the shadow. The figure had a pipe in its hand, which when it raised the pipe to its mouth to take a drag, the burning embers lit off dark eyes. Almost black.

"She's asleep now. You shouldn't be here." the voice spoke softly, still distorted and undistinguishable. "But I guess it's my fault you're here…"

The figure shifted in its seat, as Malela shifted in bed. She wasn't moving much because of her binds, but she was able to move her head and neck, and wiggle her body a little into a remotely comfortable position. She must have been drugged to sleep. The figure, if you could see him or her, would be smiling about how this entire situation was. This was almost two weeks into Malela's kidnapping, and nobody had a CLUE where she was. What she was doing. WHO this man or woman who abducted her WAS.

It was what this figure would deem… perfect…

"She sleeps now, but only because she fought one hell of a fight coming here. This is my private manor… nobody knows about it. Malela didn't even know it existed either. Kind of unfortunate. I had always imagined bringing her here… bringing her to relax and enjoy a bit of my romanticism. Instead…" the figure drifted off, muttering to itself. "Instead she had to be difficult about the entire situation and love him, not me…

You can't control who you love!" The figure began to whisper; "You can't control who your heart flutters for. You can't control who you pine for when they're distant… you can't control who makes you weak in the knees…"

The figure began scratching into their forearm with what looked like a sterling silver nail. Something that would be pounded into a wall, not somebody's skin. The figure continued to write "Not okay… not okay… not okay…" over and over, sinking the nail deeper into their skin. But the only thing you could see was that the assailant was a Caucasian. That could be over one billion people in the world! If not more! Who could do something like this to themselves…? Let alone…
Do to another person what they were doing to Malela Trombley?

"As the blood pours, I pine for her… I do this for her… yet she doesn't even APPRECIATE IT…" The figure's head lowered. "She doesn't even know I exist." the figure wiped a little of the blood from its arm on the white of the phantom mask, and now it was white with lines of red… the rest of it shadow so you couldn't see their face. This person was the epitome of 'messed up'. Of 'crazy'. Of downright INSANE. "By the time I finish with Malela, not only will you -- the viewer -- note the change in my princess, but she'll be a new woman. This is her changing… this is her coming into herself. This is my chance to become okay… my chance to make my life a greater bit of art. To have my love… my soul mate… for mine and mine alone…"

By this time, Malela was stirring more in the bed. The figure stood, cloaked in black as they raised the hood to cover their face fully. They made their way over to the bed, and pulled out a syringe from their pocket. It was a LONG needle… anybody could see it as it was in plain sight. Inside was a cloudy solution. The figure raised the ruffle on the frilly dress covering her right shoulder, and stuck the needle deep into her skin. Malela merely squirmed slightly, letting out a pained -- tired groan. Then, her movement became all but nothing. It barely looked like she was breathing.
Again, picture this demented freak just smiling about it…

"See, she's okay. It's nothing big, I swear. It won't kill her…"

Somehow, this person found the entire scenario amusing. There was a chuckle to the distorted voice. The figure, who was still bleeding heavily from the arm, made its way over to the bed. Sitting down lightly beside Malela's motionless body, the figure began painting her face again. Only this time, with blood.

"As I bleed for her, she knows it now. She may not be awake to see it, but when she wakes… she'll taste my love for her…" the figure traced a bloody finger along her already brightly colored lips. This time the red overpowered the pink. Warm…crimson life was now all over Malela's mouth. "As I bleed for her, she'll feel my love her…" the figure ran that same bloody finger down her face. "She'll know she belongs with me…"

The figure took Malela's arm, and that nail. Could you imagine what was going to happen next?
The figure began writing on her skin with the nail, breaking into her skin to print: mine on her arm. Would we ever know who this person was? Or at least know if it was a male or female causing such physical and mental harm to this woman?

…Maybe.
But one thing that was for God's honestly sure…

This person was not okay…
By a long shot…

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A/N: -Shivers- Any guesses? -M.S