"We can't do this. We just can't do this. Not now. Not now." The fear in the young Brood member's voice was evident as he shook his head side to side, long, blonde hair brushing past his bare back and shoulders.
The taller dirty blonde young male standing before him, gently layed a hand on his shoulder, his green eyes piercing the shorter male's. "Christian." He spoke soft-tonedly to calm the frantic brother down. "We have to. There's just no other way it can be done unless you want to die young."
"Edge...if we go to him now...we WILL die young!"
The two Brood members were standing in a long, dark hallway with an arched ceiling like a cathedral. A few candles were lit along the stone walls, providing just barely enough light for them to see their way through. At the end of the hall stood a 12-foot door with strange, demonic symbols carved into its border. It didn't need a DO NOT ENTER sign to keep people away, the spine-tingling, eerie feeling of just being close to it was enough to send trembling tails right back where they came. Christian trembled inwardly as his dark brown eyes were fastened to that door, swallowing down a dry lump in his throat. He couldn't understand why Edge was being so calm about this, as if the news they were about to bring to the entity behind that door was something as simple as talking about the weather.
"Come on, Christian." Edge assured him, backing up toward the door. "We'll be just fine..." The last statement sounded a bit unsure, which wasn't helping Christian's case worth the slightest.
Watching the other man as he turned and continued down the eerie hallway toward the door, Christian eventually followed, his footsteps hesitant as expected. His heart pounded furiously in his chest, faster and faster the closer he got to the door. Why was Edge so far ahead of him, he wondered. Was the brute not concerned about his own well-being? Soon enough, both men were standing before the door and Edge took a deep breath before grabbing the long, cylindric handle and giving it a hesitant pull. Immediately as the door creaked open, a chilling breeze slipped from the opening, creating gooseflesh along both men's arms, but with it came more than just freezing cold air. It was an estranged darkness that'd suddenly slithered into the hallway from the room, causing hair to stand on the backs of their necks. Slowly and quietly, they crept into the room and the first thing they saw was candlelight, hundreds of candles lit on the floor, stacked in the shape of a pentagram. What hovered above the peculiar display was quite normal for them to see. A man hanging lifelessly upon a metal symbol suspended about ten feet off the floor. However, there were no chains or ropes attached to the familiar Ministry of Darkness symbol. It was afloat on its own or perhaps by a mystical power they couldn't see with their own eyes. And standing just below the symbol was the entity that possessed that mystical power, his 6'10 frame draped in a sweeping, black velvet robe which he wore to every sacrificial ceremony. His arms were outstretched on either side of him, lifted to a shallow angle as his head was cocked back to view his worthy sacrifice. The hood of the robe had fallen back from his head, revealing thick wavy locks of jetblack hair that hung almost to his waist and a face made of strong features and angles. Solid white eyes that glowed like the moon were lifted skyward and both blondes realized that his jaw was working.
"Ach'med nacht turan... Dothnen tien tem..." The rumbling deep voice of The Lord of Darkness echoed throughout the room, the demonic language filling Edge and Christian's intrigued ears.
Both men exchanged glances. They knew their leader hated to be interupted during a sacrificial ceremony and several members of the Ministry had been injured for doing so, but the news they had to bring just couldn't wait. It was a big risk they were taking just standing in the room while he was doing this. Not that he didn't allow his henchmen to see his supernatural works, but at times he wanted privacy while he performed sacrifices. Right now it was evident that this was one of those times and his privacy was being intruded.
Christian swallowed, nudging Edge to speak. Edge fired him a harsh glare as if to say, "Why don't you do it," before rolling his eyes and returning to attention to the man speaking in tongues in the center of the room. "Undertaker, sir?" He called, but in a softer voice than he had intended.
"Haba kziet mier anuu...dzior dante' nakura..." The Undertaker continued, Edge's voice not even reaching his ears.
Edge open his mouth to repeat himself, but stopped when he saw that the naked man chained to the floating symbol had begun to jerk and twitch violently as if having a seisure. He wasn't sure if that was something he had seen before, but he quickly forced himself to look away, blinking several times. "Taker...can we...have a moment?" He spoke again, a bit louder this time.
In response, the Undertaker's voice only grew louder and his sacrificial puppet spasmed harder under the sound of his voice, the air growing thicker with a demonic presence. "Dothne! Nachtura! Mien te! Belial, Belial, Belial!"
Finally Christian took a step forward and after taking a deep, shuddering breath, "Taker! We need to talk to you!" His voice seemed to shatter all other sounds and immediately after, The Undertaker snapped out of his spiritual transe. The moment his solid white eyes returned to their normal acid green, the symbol dropped from the air, crashing loudly to the floor. Blood spattered across the floor as the helpless man upon the large, metal object was crushed beneath it and the flames on each candle erupted upward with an explosive roar, returning to their normal flicker a second later. Edge grabbed Christian by the arm and pulled him back just as the large door behind them swung shut with a bang that echoed on for what seemed like forever. Both men stared uncomfortably at the Undertaker as his head slowly turned and deathly-cold acid green eyes fell on them. A low, feral growl rumbled in his throat before his arms slowly fell by his sides. "How...many times," He spoke in a low, threatening tone. "Do I have to tell you two ingred sons of bitches NOT TO BARGE!" The flames erupted again, causing Edge and Christian to flinch against their brightness.
"We're so sorry. But we have something important we need to tell you." Edge informed him, backing as far away from the fire as he could, still clutching Christian's arm.
"WHAT?" The Lord of Darkness roared angrily.
Edge and Christian looked at each other before sighing at the same time. Running a hand through his long, dirty blonde hair, Edge opened his mouth with hesitation and looked the Deadman in the eye, the words almost stuck to his tongue, unable to come out. "Taker, after me and Christian got done polishing those caskets like you told us to, um, we heard this noise. Like...someone screaming."
Taker arched an eyebrow at him, his head tilting. "And?"
"All of us rushed around the house to see what'd happened and while we were looking...me and Christian found that parlor Paul was putting together and um..." He stopped and scratched the back of his neck where he felt moisture along his skin.
"Edge, I don't have all goddamn night." Taker impatiently gestured for the boy to continue.
"Okay. Okay. Here it is." Edge cleared his throat. "We found Paul in the parlor...he was sprawled out on the floor with his clothes torn and soaked in blood and...his eyes were gone. So Faarooq and Bradshaw-" He stopped midsentence when he noticed Taker's expression change from impatience to pure astonishment, then distorting into something animalistic. He swallowed hard. "Taker, we think-" He couldn't even get the rest out before Taker stormed past him and Christian, all but breaking through the door with a black cloud of pure rage hovering after him.
...
The members of the Ministry -Faarooq, Bradshaw, Mideon, Viscera, and Gangrel- were gathered inside the parlor, all eyes wandering about the destruction in awe. There were windows shattered, a thousand shards of deadly, bloodstained glass littering the wooden floor. Blood dripped down the moldy green walls in randomly-located splotch patterns and several decorative tables had been overturned if not broken to pieces, thrown all over the room where they didn't belong. In the middle of the room, a large casket made of waxed redwood lay flipped open upside down, covered in deep scratches, blood and grotesque burn marks as if someone had tried to cut it to pieces and then set it on fire. What lay beneath the casket, however, was what was the most disturbing. It was Paul Bearer sprawled facedown in a pool of his own blood, empty eye sockets pouring blood down his pale, gellatin face. He was motionless beneath the weight of the casket, but alive. Barely. Very faint groans and grunts could be heard from his behind his lips which had been busted open and swollen blue. His usual formal attire had been stripped almost completely off of him and on his skin, the surrounding group could see several grotesque 3rd degree burns and deep gashes, blood soaking him from head to toe. He looked absolutely horrific, apparently he'd ben defenseless against whatever had broken in and attacked him.
"My fucking God..." Gangrel shook his head in pity, his mind reeling from the very sight he was beholding. Beside him, a much larger Viscera walked over to one of the shattered windows and looked outside, his glowing, silvery eyes spotting nothing but trees swaying in the wind and the black sky above, not even a single sign of life within. When he turned to face the others, they were all looking at him for answers, but sadly, he had none. "The fuck did this?"
"If we knew we wouldn't be standin' here." Faarooq barked, shaking his head and folding his arms. "The big man's gonna throw a goddamn-"
The parlor door suddenly flew open with a bang, nearly breaking from its hinges as an angry black mass stormed in, anger flashing in its shadowy eyes. The very second The Undertaker saw Paul, his entire body went ramrod stiff and his right eye twitched slightly. Edge and Christian entered a second after him and quickly put distance between themselves and the furious darklord. For a moment, the room was completely silent and Taker could hardly believe what he was seeing. He had a hard time taking it all in, the destruction of the room, the current condition of his conscience, trying to decide whether or not this was real or if he was trapped in an awful nightmare. But it was real. In fact, the reality of it struck him so hard that, soon after he came out of his state of shock, he rushed forward and with mighty hands, lifted the casket off of Paul's motionless body and threw it across the room as if it weighed nothing but a few ounces. The members of the Ministry cringed a little as the large piece of woodwork struck the wall with a deafening crash and shattered to large pieces, nearly ending up outside. Taker fell to his knees beside Paul's body, rolling him over gently. The battered, half-dead man groaned in pain as he felt his weight shift onto the largest of his wounds which were located on his back. There was so much blood, Taker found himself nearly gagging at the awful stench, the horribly burned skin making things no better. He was almost frantic as he looked over what'd been done to Paul, holding both sides of the man's bloody, dirt-encrusted face between his cold, massive hands. "Paul..." He said in a voice trembling in anger. "Tell me who did this to you."
Paul couldn't answer. In fact, he hadn't even heard the Undertaker. He was so far gone and without his eyes to atleast tell him where he was, his mind was practically an empty, black cave. Taker clenched his teeth when he realized Paul couldn't answer him, struggling to keep himself calm. It was impossible. Absolutely impossible to hold down the anger and pure rage building inside him, spreading throughout every muscle and fiber of his body like a wild fire. "WHO FUCKING DID THIS TO HIM?" He suddenly exploded, standing abruptly, appearing as though he'd grown larger, but he was only swelling with a monstrous fury.
"We don't know, Taker." Bradshaw quickly spoke up, holding his hands up defensively. "We swear it, man."
"One of you has to know something! SOMETHING!" Taker had anger seething from his pores. "You mean to tell me none of you saw what the fuck happened here?"
"No." All of them answered at once, then Mideon, one of Taker's favorites, stepped forward, his eyes weary. He was hurt to see his master like this. "By the time we got here after hearing all the noise and screaming, Paul was alone in here...like how we see him now."
"Goddamnit!" Taker spun around violently and massaged his forehead with his fingers, resting his other hand on his hip.
"If it helps, Taker, we can search the room for evidence for you." Gangrel suggested after swallowing down a dry lump. "The attacker could've left some traces behind."
"If I may say so myself," Edge chimed in. "I think Kane did this. No...I'm SURE Kane did this."
Taker's head snapped in his direction. But before he could reply, Viscera did for him. "How the fuck do you know?" His voice was quiet but sturdy enough to cause all eyes to turn to him. "Kane couldn't have come in through the front or else we all would've seen him. And I'm sure as hell his overgrown ass can't fit through these fucking windows."
"You'd be surprised what he can do." Taker released a deep breath, still trying to collect his broken pieces of professional composure.
"Wait." Gangrel raised his voice a bit and when Taker looked over his shoulder at him, he felt himself shrink under that deathly glare. "I'm not trying to defend Kane or anything but last time I checked, he's supposed to be in a looney bin. From what I hear, he's gaurded so heavy he can't even take a piss without atleast ten gaurds surrounding his ass."
"Okay and?" Faarooq shot him a mean look. "That mother fucker's the son of the devil. You don't think he can bust out a damn asylum?"
"We'd be the first ones to hear about it if he did." Bradshaw chimed in. "Or his brother atleast."
Taker turned to face them, a bit aggravated by their constant chatter. None of them even asked to speak, but he figured it was fine seeing as though everyone was riled up by this situation. His own mind was beginning to fill with question now. If Kane really did attack Paul, how could he have gotten in undetected? Kane was known for making big entrances and didn't care for being stealthy. Especially with the hatred that he had for his brother, Kane was the type of sick man who would come straight out with the confession if he attacked Paul. And if not that, there would be plenty of evidence.
"Everyone, look." Edge said, walking up to Paul and pointing to the burn marks on his skin. "Does this look familiar to anyone? Hanh, anyone?" His eyes were wide now. "Only Kane could leave scars like this. HE DID THIS!"
Taker simply folded his arms and lowered his eyes, tuning the group out as he thought to himself. The burn marks seemed like enough to point to the Big Red Machine, but for some reason, he just wasn't sure. He could feel it. Someone else had been in the room to attack Paul.
"We should hunt the bitch down and burn him on a stake." Edge growled, looking around the room.
Everyone nodded except for Gangrel who was steadfast with his opinion. "Edge, listen. Despite the burn marks on Paul's skin, of all the times Kane's attacked someone, has he ever gouged out someone's eyes? How many victims have you found with missing eyes?"
Edge paused to look at him, sudden realization coming to him. "But what if he just lost control and-"
"That's his father right there, Edge!" Gangrel shouted, alerting the others.
"SILENCE! ALL OF YOU!" Taker's voice suddenly boomed, seeming to shake the very walls of the room. Everyone froze at the sound of his voice. "Only way to find out if Kane really did this, is to bring the bastard here himself and make him admit it! Faarooq. Bradshaw. Go find Kane. Viscera, Mideon, get Paul to bed. Gangrel, Christian, Edge, search this room for more evidence while everyone else is out."
"But, if we know its Kane-" Edge started, but Taker raised his hand to stop him, replying simply, "We don't know if its Kane."
Everyone filed out of the room as told, except for the Brood who weren't too happy with their assignment. Viscera and Mideon carefully heaved Paul's broken, bloodied body out of the room and around the corner to the nearest bed while The Acolytes left the house and went on their search for Kane. The Undertaker had left, as well. Perhaps to return to his sacrificial chamber or speak with his Higher Power. Edge was the most aggravated out of the three. His stubborn ego just wouldn't allow him to believe that someone else had been here to destroy Paul Bearer except for Kane. His name had been practically written all over the parlor. He couldn't help but wonder why The Undertaker was having other thoughts. The Brood searched just about every inch of the floor, rummaged through broken furniture, and even scraped some blood from the walls to find any marks or such. It seemed like there was nothing significant in terms of evidence in the room. Nothing worth labeling as suspicious. Nothing that would draw the eye as peculiar or outstanding. After about an hour of searching, the brothers grew hopeless and exhausted. While resting against the wall in the back of the room, Edge still refused to give up his claim. "Its hopeless to say someone else was here. You guys know it was Kane, right?"
Gangrel simply ignored him and Christian released a deep sigh. Edge was one to keep things going when he didn't get his way...which was quite often. "Let's just tell Taker we didn't find anything and move on, okay?" He replied irritantly.
"He'll be mad though. Especially since he's so worked up. His conscience was just attacked and if Kane really is innocent behind all this, there will be no clues as to who could have done it. Unless..." Gangrel perked up suddenly, looking between the two blondes leaning against the wall on either side of him. There was suspicion written on his face and soon the other two wore the same. "Unless it was someone in the Ministry..."
Edge rolled his eyes. "Now, why the hell would anyone of us even dare assault Paul like this, knowing that we'd end up tortured and killed by that oversized demon we work for?" He said sarcastically. "You'd have to be really fucking suicidal to do something like that."
Christian had just opened his mouth to add another statement when something suddenly caught his eye just a few feet past Edge. A frown creased his sweat-slick forehead and he immediately moved toward the object that caused him to stop. Gangrel and Edge watched him with questioning expressions as he approached the shattered remains of the casket that'd been capsized over Paul's body and knelt down over it, beginning to dig around in the jagged wood with his hands. He shifted and tossed the wood persistently, his hands moving fast like an animal digging for food. He heard someone ask him what he was doing, but was too concentrated to recognize who's voice it was. Instead, he said, "Dear God...guys."
Edge and Gangrel were on either side of him faster than he could say hop-skotch, bent over to see what he'd called them for. Christian slid one more plank of wood across the floor, revealing a small, oblong object that shimmered despite the dark, greenish lighting of the room. All eyes widened as Christian gathered it into his palm and held it up close to his face. It was a small, golden Victorian-style locket hanging from a long, golden chain. On the inside of the locket was a picture of a man with matured features and short, salt-and-pepper hair. The smile within his evenly-cut black goatee sparkled with pure joy and wearing almost the exact same smile beside him was the source of his joy. A young girl who appeared to be no older than 10 years of age with long, dark hair braided into two pigtails hanging down her shoulders. Besides the glimmer in her pearly-white smile, her most drawing feature were her eyes, which were a rich, oceanic blue.
"So...Kane, hanh?" Gangrel raised an eyebrow at Edge only to get a harsh glare in return.
He didn't respond.