A/N: Wade begins to make an appearance in the story starting now. He uses his real name until it's discovered that he goes by another name—and the girl he kidnaps knows it!

And yes, both Heath and Wade speak Afrikaans in the story, even though in reality, I'm sure they couldn't, even with Justin teaching them, lol.

Remember, I don't own any of the WWE superstars I use in my work. I only own my OC's.

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Chapter 4- News Stories

Cape Town, South Africa

Just as they predicted, the story of the six missing girls wound up on the local news.

And all Heath could do was smile.

Justin, on the other hand, was furious. "They didn't get my good side."

"And that's a problem why?" Heath asked.

"No problem," Justin replied. "I felt like complaining."

"Shh! The news is on," Heath hissed.

"Oh, goody," Justin said. "Let's see what they've got to say."

Heath turned the volume up. "Now shush."

"This just in. The bodies of the six young women who were reported missing from the 9Bar in Pietermaritzburg were discovered near a beach in Johannesburg, their bodies drained of blood. Martine de Wees, 27, Kristina van der Waal,29, Angeline ver Kraal, 30, Jennifer de Nulse, 30, Luisa Marchigal, 32, and Mercedes Ridgeway, also 32, were found by a local couple as they walked along the beach. The police were immediately alerted to the scene."

"Wow," Justin said. "That's publicity. Wonder if we could get away with anything else?"

"Don't get carried away," Heath chastised.

"I'm not," Justin said. "Just saying."

"Sure you are," Heath smiled. "What's our next plan of action?"

"I think," Justin began, "we go hunt some more women."

"You're mad," Heath laughed. "I think we need to get some of these women to do our bidding."

"I may be mad," Justin said. "But I mean business. Hypnotize some of these women to do whatever we want, even pleasure us, before we kill them."

"I like that idea," Heath replied. "Sex and murder. Nice ring to it."

"Well then," Justin smiled. "What the fuck are we waiting for? Bring on the next set of girls."

Manchester, England

"Eh, bring me a beer," the Englishman at the bar murmured, his eyes on the girls dancing on the stage.

"Right away, sir," the bartender said, a smile on his face. "I could connect you with one of the girls. They'd eat you alive if they could."

The Englishman shook his head. "Then they would be feasting for a LONG time. There's too much of me for one day."

The bartender laughed again. "Which one you fancying then?"

"Her," the Englishman said, his eyes continuing to focus on the stage.

"Oh," the bartender smiled. "You mean Rachael. She is gorgeous."

"D'you reckon she'd be interested?"

"Maybe she will. She's had times where she has had to give a patron the boot. Be careful."

"I'm all the man she needs," the Englishman continued, slowly taking a knife out of his right boot and pointing it at the bartender.

The bartender immediately paled at the sight of the knife. "What the—?"

The Englishman smiled. "You were saying?"

"I'll talk to her. Just put that away."

"I'll talk to her myself. You've been useful, though," the Englishman said, plunging the knife into the frightened man's throat, which he wiped clean after stabbing him.

"Bastard," the man spluttered, slumping onto the ground.

"Then I guess I am," came the reply. "I'll be taking the girl, then."

Screams began to ring out. "The bartender! Someone's killed him!"

In the midst of all the confusion, the Englishman walked up to the stage and wrapped an arm around Rachael's midsection. "Come with me, and there won't be problems."

"Who are you?" the frightened dancer asked.

"Stu Bennett. And you must be the lovely Rachael Barron. The bartender, before he met his end, told me about you."

"Why am I coming with you?" Rachael asked.

"Do you want to be here when the cops come?"

"No."

"Then we'd best be going."

"Wait a minute," Rachael said. "You're the infamous Wade Barrett. I know who you are."

Grumbling, Wade shook his head. "Okay, so you know who I am. Now the question is do I kill you or keep you around?"

"Don't kill me," Rachael begged.

"Why the bloody hell not?" Wade growled at her. "You seem to know way too much for your own good."

Two hours later, Wade was on his way to South Africa. Before he left, he made sure to leave Rachael locked in the basement of his Wimbledon mansion—and left specific instructions with his household staff to make sure she was fed and taken care of.

"Would've been too risky if I took her back to Manchester," he muttered.

Cape Town, South Africa

"Where to this evening?" Heath asked. He had been itching to go somewhere for the last couple of hours.

"Johannesburg," Justin remarked. "Something about that part of Gauteng makes me want to have some fun there."

"Gauteng? Again?" Heath muttered. "Hate to remind you, but we just dumped six bodies over there. I don't feel like going there."

Justin began muttering something in his native Afrikaans. "Fucking hel. Dit is nie soos wat ons gevang het. Hoekom is jy bekommerd?"

(Fucking hell. It's not like we got caught. Why are you so worried?)

Heath, who had been around Justin for as long as he could remember, glared at him and began to argue back in Afrikaans. "Ek is nie bekommerd nie. Ek weet nie wat die hel wat jy speel in die deur gaan terug in Gauteng so vinnig."

(I'm not worried. I just don't know what you're the hell you're playing at by going back to Gauteng so soon.)

Justin began laughing. "Your Afrikaans is good. Wonder why we don't let you practice it more often?"

"Omdat (Because)," Heath began, "dit is beter om te gebruik English rondom ons slagoffers."

(It is better to use English around our victims.)

Justin chuckled. "I think you're becoming a South African by nature. You've come a long way since West Virginia."

"I don't miss Pineville at all, if that's what you're saying."

"It is what I'm saying. When is the last time you went there?"

"Six years ago. Went to see my mom."

Justin smiled. "The last time I saw your mom was when my mom went to spend time with her. I wonder if they still keep in touch?"

"They do," Heath replied. "They talk nearly every weekend."

"True. Maybe I should go see my own mother," Justin muttered. "I think she thinks I don't care."

"Ah, stop it," Heath chastised. "She knows you're busy. Which is why my mom keeps her company."

"Okay, so," Justin interrupted. "If you don't want to go to Johannesburg, where do you want to go? We can't hit up Pietermaritzburg again."

"I heard there's a nightclub in Bloemfontein that is by guestlist only. If we can get on that list, we can get a couple of meals in—maybe a bit of sex as well—while we're there."

Justin smiled. "Kry ons op die lys. Nou." (Get us on that list. Now.)

"My plesier," Heath replied. "Gedoen word en gedoen het." (My pleasure. Done and done.)

A few hours later, the duo arrived in Bloemfontein—just as a Boeing 747-400 operated by British Airways landed at Tambo International Airport in Johannesburg.

"What's the name of this place?" Justin asked. "I never come to the City of Roses—not ever."

"Cool Runnings," Heath said.

"Like the movie?" Justin asked, suppressing a laugh.

"Hell yeah like the movie," Heath snickered. "I knew you'd find it funny."

"Names," the bouncer said.

"Should be under Miller—party of two," Heath replied.

"Miller. Miller—yes, here you are," the bouncer said. "Have fun."

"Trust me, we will," Justin replied. "Hier is 'n paar dollars vir jou moeite." (Here's a few dollars for your trouble.)

The bouncer took the money and quickly pocketed it before anyone could see him do it.

"What do you think?" Heath asked.

"Nice," Justin replied.

No sooner did the two find their way to the VIP section, a limousine pulled up to the club.

"Now you're sure this is a cool spot?" Wade inquired of the driver.

"Of course, sir," the driver replied. "LOTS of women. Better than that one you locked away."

"I hope so," Wade replied.

"Trust me, sir. You'll have fun. I'll pick you up in a few hours," the driver said, running to open Wade's door.

"That is fine. I will see you in a few hours."

Once the driver left, the Englishman walked up to the bouncer. After giving his name and getting let through the doors, he walked up to the bar.

It didn't take long for Justin to notice the strapping gentleman approaching the bar.

"Liewe God. Wie is dit warm stukkie van die man vleis?" he wondered aloud. (Dear God. Who is that hot piece of man meat?)

"Where?" Heath asked.

"Over there, at the bar. He's gorgeous," Justin replied, his eyes turning glassy.

"I dunno," Heath murmured. "Maybe I should ask. He doesn't look as if he's from here, or anywhere in South Africa, for that matter. He might be from England. He looks it to me."

"Wherever he's from, I don't care. I'm going to make him mine," Justin replied.

"No. We're going to make him ours," Heath said. "I'll go find out more about him. Pay for anything he wants tonight."

Justin smiled. "Will do."

Meanwhile, Wade was talking to the bartender on duty, a pretty girl who looked as if she were older than her nineteen years.

"So, pretty lady," he began, "what is your best drink?"

"Well, I make a pretty mean Bloody Mary," the girl replied.

"Then I'll have one of those," Wade said. "How much do I owe?"

Just then, Justin walked up to the bar. "Luci, make sure the gentleman doesn't pay for anything he drinks tonight, okay?"

"Paul?" the girl blinked. "How are you? Never seen you in here before."

"Yeah," Justin replied. "It was Heath's idea to come to B-Town tonight. You know me, I never come here."

"True," Luci said. "Have you met our friend from England? Stu Bennett, this is Paul Lloyd. Paul, this is Stu."

They shook hands. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," Wade murmured. "Who's your friend that you're sitting with?"

"Heath Miller. He's originally from the States, but he's been out here for the last few years," Justin explained. "Come, sit with us. Luci, keep the drinks coming. And Heath and I are going to have what Stu is having."

"Sounds good," Luci replied. "I'll keep them coming, as soon as Jacqui gets here."

"Fine by me. And give me a call sometime," Justin said.

"Will do. Nice meeting you, Stu."

"Likewise."

They went over to the booth Heath had reserved for the evening. As usual, Heath was nowhere to be seen.

"Waarskynlik gryp 'n snack voor ons dinge doen aan hierdie een," Justin thought. (Probably grabbing a snack before we do things to this one.)

Meanwhile, Heath was in a secluded part of the bar, his fangs buried in the throat of one of the male dancers he had been seducing. "Refreshing, but not as satisfying as that one will be."

"Heath will be back," Justin said. "Probably went to the bathroom."

"Dit is okay," Wade replied. (It is okay.)

Justin was in shock. "You speak Afrikaans?"

"Yep. I have been visiting here since 2439, which gave me plenty of time to learn. I always stay in the same place when I visit," Wade replied.

"Amazing," Justin said. "I have never heard such a beautiful accent wrap around such a beautiful language."

Wade blushed. "I try."

Just then, Heath walked up to them. "Hi, I'm Heath."

"Stu. Nice to meet you," Wade replied, shaking Heath's hand.

"So, I hear you're British. Don't come across Brits in South Africa very often," Heath continued.

"Well, I'm here on vacation," Wade murmured. "And you certainly don't come across Americans often either, I suppose."

"How long you plan on staying?" Justin asked.

"A few months," Wade replied.

Heath and Justin exchanged looks. "Cool."

"Yep," Wade replied. "I needed to leave good old Manchester behind."

"Sounds like a plan," Justin said.

"Yeah," Heath agreed.

The trio continued to drink—well into the early morning.

"So, dude," Heath began, "where are you staying?"

"I have a vacation home in Johannesburg—so I'll be there," Wade replied.

"We've got a place in Cape Town," Justin explained. "If you want to party one day in Jo'burg, we'll come out there and chill."

"Sounds like a plan."

"What the fuck time is it?" Heath asked, yawning.

"5:00," Justin replied.

"Wow," Wade murmured. "My driver must be outside waiting."

"Tell him to go home and sleep," Justin said, a smile on his face. "We'll get you home."

"Fine by me," was all Wade could say.

"Good, then it's settled. Go tell him now," Heath said.

"Okay. I'll be back."

When he went outside, Heath turned to Justin. "I say we take him home with us and do everything in our power to keep him."

"He's strong, and I like them strong," Justin replied. "He'll do."

"Good. Maybe I should put something in this last drink," Heath added, taking a vial of green liquid out of his pocket.

"Hurry up," Justin said. "Do it."

As Heath finished pouring the last of the liquid into the Englishman's last Bloody Mary, Wade came running back inside. "We're good to go. Just have me back at a reasonable rate."

"Good. We're going to go now. Finish your drink first, though. Luci hates when people don't finish her BM's," Justin told him.

"Bloody good idea," Wade replied, finishing the drink in one gulp. "Absolutely delicious."

"What did you put in there?" Justin whispered.

"Just a potion I fixed up," Heath replied, a smile on his face.

"When will it start working?" Justin asked.

"Right about now," Heath said, looking over at Wade, who was now slumped over in his seat.

"Good Lord," Justin sighed. "This will be easier than I thought."

"Yeah," Heath murmured. "Let's get him into the car—and home."