"No! Please, no! I'm fucking innocent!" Debra's shrill cries of desperation filled the dark, damp dungeon as the Ministry and its powerful leader filed in, Edge and Gangrel holding the terrified woman by her arms. She fought with just about all the strength she could muster while they dragged her mercilessly toward the back wall where their prisoners and victims were kept. Still bound to this wall, slowly regaining his strength was the Big Red Monster, Kane, who's multi-colored eyes watched his elder brother with evident hatred and a lust after the Demon's own blood. The air was cold all around them, reeking with the stench of blood, sweat, and rotting flesh, all three pleasing to the senses of the Deadman.
"Hang her up next to Kane. Chyna will be on his other side." The Undertaker ordered, folding his massive arms across his chest as he stood back and watched.
Debra continued to fight while Chyna was still unconscious. Her blonde hair was disheveled and unruly and her clothing had been rent from her violent movements against the Brood. They forcefully shoved her against the cold, brick wall and raised her arms above her head, quickly fastening two shackles around each wrist. Then planted her feet shoulder-length apart and shackled them, as well. When she looked and saw Kane to the right of her, she wailed even louder, shaking her head side to side almost uncontrollably.
Chyna was shackled on the other side of Kane in no time and it had been apparent that Viscera enjoyed doing it himself.
"She'll wake up soon enough." Taker said to Viscera, noticing the way the large man's silver eyes gawked at the woman as he backed away from her. "Then you can play with her as long as you like."
"So, what is the plan exactly?" Bradshaw asked aloud.
Taker released a deep sigh, stepping forward slowly toward Kane. "I saw our second suspect today..." He stated.
All eyes turned to him in curiosity. "Who was it, my lord?" Mideon asked respectively.
The Undertaker halted directly in front of his brother, looking the half-man, half-demon in the eyes. A moment passed with no answer, the reason being that he wasn't certain about sharing that information with his minions. They'd more than likely assume him to be a fool. Hell, right now he felt like a fool for actually having the thought that the woman in the hallway was possibly her. A creature so delicate and beautiful looked nothing close to a criminal who could break into someone's home and attack a man so brutally. Then again...looks were decieving.
Another shrill cry suddenly stabbed at Taker's eardrums. Growling in annoyance, he turned toward Debra, slowly approached her. At first, he had been enjoying the sight of her fear, relishing in it like a hawk over its prey, but now that it was interupting his train of thought, he had a serious problem. He looked down into her water-spewing eyes, not saying a word at first, his face hard as stone. Debra shook her head at him, wailing and crying as if she were actually being tortured. "Please, Undertaker, I've done nothing to hurt you or your Ministry! Please...just let me g-" The sound of Taker's hand coming in contact with Debra's face crackled through the room, leaving just about everyone in surprise.
"Shut your damn mouth, woman." He barked at her, wrapping a hand around her throat. "No one can save you out here! You're all mine until I get what I really desire!"
"You probably shouldn't hit her, Taker." Christian said softly, swallowing in disbelief at what he saw.
"I'll hack her to pieces in front of thousands if I have to." Taker growled without looking back at the young minion. "And you'll be the next lamb to the slaughter if you don't hold your tongue, boy."
Christian immediately went silent, stepping back slowly toward the dungeon door.
"Now," Taker continued, lowering his voice a bit. "All of you...get out."
For a moment, all was silent except for Debra's quiet sobbing and sniffling, not a single foot moved an inch across the cold floor. Taker felt a storm of rage building up inside him quicker than he could think about it and before he knew what he was doing, he spun on his feet so violently all witnesses were nearly startled out of their skins. "I SAID GET OUT!" He shouted at the top of his lungs, angered by their disobedience the first time he spoke.
They immediately shrunk away in response, not wishing to anger their leader any further. The attack was beginning to take its toll on the Deadman, leaving him nearly insane, wrecking himself with his own anger and lust for revenge.
The moment he was alone with Kane, Chyna, and Debra, he turned back toward the slumped, red giant, his demeanor now reverting back to sirenity. "You of all people know me too well, Little Brother." He began, once again folding his arms as he released a deep sigh. "In fact, you and I both know that when a crime is committed against me or my household, I will not rest until I find the criminal. Three nights ago, I found something that disturbed me and my Ministry. Two nights ago, I found the body of the only person I considered to be close to me lying on the floor with a casket on top of him. You wanna know who that was, Kane? Oh wait...you already know, you godforsaken son of a bitch. It was Paul!" He didn't notice that Debra jumped with the sudden escalation of his voice. "Now, the guys...they're pretty damn smart. They think you're the one who broke through that damned window and beat the devil right outta Paul. But I'm smarter..." He stepped a bit closer to his brother, gripping his chin gently and lifting his head up so their eyes were perfectly leveled. "I know it wasn't you, Little Brother. But that doesn't mean you ain't in trouble. Because even if you didn't attack Paul, you had to be in on it. You can't say shit with that fucked up mouth of yours, but your eyes are telling me everything. Your eyes are telling me that someone or something that you know of was sent to do this. It'll only be a matter of time before I get my hands on it and until I do...you're fucking stuck here, Kane."
"HELP!" Debra began screaming again, jerking herself violently against her shackles.
The Undertaker's head snapped in her direction instantly. "You know what, bitch?" He said smoothly, tilting his head side to side until the bones in his neck popped. "I'm about to shut you up for good."
"SOMEBODY HELP ME! I DON'T WANNA DIE LIKE THIS!" Debra continued to shake her head wildly while she watched The Undertaker approach her with a predatory stride. "I'll do anything to live! Anything!"
The Undertaker nonchalantly cocked his head at her. "Like what, pray tell?" He asked lowly.
"I-I don't know." Debra swallowed, leaning her head back against the wall. "I-I'll...I'll give you my body. Would that make you...let me go?"
The Undertaker halted before her, daunting her with his piercing gaze. At first he was silent, laughing inwardly, then suddenly his hand lashed out at her again, slapping her so hard across the face her head spun. "I would rather dig a hole in the ground and fuck the dirt, you worthless whore." He chuckled darkly as he listened to Debra's loud sobs. "Besides, I already know who's been between your legs."
Debra's face became distorted and nearly every inch beneath her eyes was soaked in tears. Taker could withstand no more of her noise and simply turned his back on her. He left the dungeon without another word, the door slamming shut behind him.
…...
Edge took a deep breath as he gently pushed open Christian's bedroom door, a cold draft immediately assaulting his pallid flesh as dim, golden light flooded into the hallway. The younger blonde was lying face-down on his bed, the comforter wrinkled beneath him as he had found it way too hot to tuck himself under covers. His entire body was still as if he were asleep, but his eyes were wide open, staring across the room as if he were in a trance. "What're you doing here?" He asked softly, not bothering to look in Edge's direction.
Edge entered the room and gently closed the door behind him, sighing as he tucked his hands into the pockets of his comfortable, scarlet bathrobe. "Oh, no reason really. I just wanna know what's wrong with you." He replied casually, eyeing Christian.
Christian sighed. "There's nothing wrong with me. I'm perfectly fine."
"Oh, really?" Edge raised his eyebrows. Christian's shallow tone alone told him otherwise. "Your actions don't say the same, man."
Christian finally glanced at him, his face empty of any emotion. Edge ran a hand through his hair, his eyes dropping to the floor then lifting back to his best friend. "Look, lately I've been noticing a difference in you. You're acting very strange. Like...like you just wanna run away and never come back."
"Maybe that is what I want, Edge..." Christian added quietly.
Edge was silent for a moment. He walked up to Christian's bed and sat down on the edge next to him, glancing out of the bedroom window at the starry night sky. "That's different." He said. "Why do you feel that way?"
Christian simply shook his head, not replying.
"Come on, brother." Edge gave him a concerned look. "Anything you say is safe with me."
"That's just what I wonder about, Brother." Christian propped himself up on his elbows, turning his cerulean blue eyes toward Edge, his long, blonde locks collapsing around his face. When Edge frowned at him slightly, he took a deep breath and his lips parted ever so slightly. "When I first saw the Undertaker perform one of his secret sacrifices –the one he does to summon dark spirits to give him more power- I began to wonder...are we really safe here? Can those spirits keep us safe from the outside world like he promised us they would? Keep us safe from those who should be showing up with pitchforks and torches to lead us to burn on the stake?"
Edge watched Christian's eyes searchingly, finding a heartfelt sincerity in them that nearly frightened him. Though his words were rather unexpected, they caused Edge's own mind to wonder. But he wouldn't openly agree. "Would his Lord of Darkness lie to us? Especially about our safety?"
"He's a deciever! A demon straight out of hell! Who knows, Edge. We could end up just like that man we saw earlier in the sacrificial chamber. Strapped to that damn symbol like variables in a voodoo magic trick." Christian's tone thickened with anger. "We've been in this Ministry long enough now to know that that man could kill us all off at any given moment and not give a damn about it! Why? He's a big, evil, heartless, son of the devil!"
"Woah, woah, woah!" Edge made a face. "So all this time you've only been acting like you trust Taker? And he's been buying it?"
"Damn straight." Christian rolled out of bed and walked across the room toward the dresser. He layed his fists against the hard, mahogany surface and sighed deeply. "Either that or he already knows I've been the one to act the oddest around him. He's one of the smartest fucking bastards I've ever met and is probably just playing along with me. Waiting on the opportunity to expose me for the fraud I am."
"Stop fucking talking like that!" Edge raised his voice. "Do you have any goddamn idea what you're doing right now? You're writing your own fucking death wish, that's what you're doing!"
Christian whirled violently, his hands sweeping across the dresser in the process, knocking down a few items. Edge jumped while glasses and bottles of wine crashed loudly to the floor.
"I am not afraid." Christian bared his sharp teeth at Edge, his eyes widening slightly. Silence followed the statement, until neither one of them could take much more of its intensity. "I care about each member of the Ministry if no one else does. I know Taker doesn't. I know he only cares about his own common goal and that's infesting the universe with his despicable dark power. I know he only laughs when he hurts all of us. I know he felt pleasure when he whipped me across my back that night. He probably drank all the blood he beat out of me when he was done! And I know after that, he probably wants to fucking kill me. Slowly, painfully, and he's gonna be laughing his overgrown ass off while he's doing it. We aren't safe here, Brother. I regret-"
"Just stop it, Christian!" Edge finally cut him off, shooting to his feet so fast his hair flared up like a mad man. "You're fucking insane! So what if the Deadman has no heart. That's the point of being a DEAD MAN! But so far he's given all of us what we wanted. People fear us, they respect us. When they hear our name they shake in their boots because of our reputation. That's what we've all wanted. The Undertaker's done us a favor by awakening our true killer instincts and now we can take the world if we want. All he's wanted this whole time is to make us stronger, better, tougher and you sit here and say he's a deceptive monster who wants to kill us? Don't you think we'd be dead by now if he really wanted to kill us! This is the Undertaker we're talking about!"
Christian stood still, his mouth hanging agape in shock. "Are you defending him, Edge?" His voice softened almost to a whisper. "After all we've been through together in this hellhole, you're actually sticking up for that bastard? What about me, Edge? What're you gonna do if he actually decides to get rid of me? Are you gonna be on his side then?"
Edge went silent, feeling as though Christian had driven a burning dagger into his heart. It was one of those times where he'd found himself so wrapped up in something, so hungry for something he didn't need, that he'd actually forgotten what was the most important to him; he'd forgotten what he needed most in this life. And that was Christian.
"I want you to think about it tonight, Edge." Christian continued pleadingly. "But I don't know if I can do this any longer..."
"Christian, don't..." Edge shook his head. "You can't."
"Who's gonna stop me?" Christian just about bore a hole through Edge's skull with his stern gaze as he made his way toward the bedroom door. "If you really loved me like a brother...you would let me go."
Edge's heart just about sank to the pit of his stomach when he heard those words and he said nothing else as he listened to the sound of the bedroom door slamming shut.
…...
It was silent except for the howling of the wind as Persia stood still before Diane Winchester's grave. Moonlight glowed against pained ocean blue eyes as they studied the tall stone, reading the name over and over again, reading those painful numbers over and over again. If only you were here to help me through this, were the thoughts that ran through her mind, killing her slowly from the inside. I'm so alone.
A harsh gust of wind met her suddenly, causing her entire body to shiver harshly. She drew her hands up over her arms as her dark hair whipped across her face. Despite the cold, she didn't care to grab a coat for herself when she'd left the hotel room several minutes prior. Besides the fact that the death of her parents was beginning to take its toll on her, she felt as though she'd caused nothing but trouble for a friend. Hunter. If she hadn't been at the Raw Is War show, Hunter's friends wouldn't have been kidnapped on her behalf. She felt afraid as well as ashamed; a curse on two legs. That explained the coat she decided not to wear. She felt like she deserved to suffer from the bitter weather, as if her current fate was not enough for her.
I deserve to be hunted down and killed like you were. Drowned in a pool of my own blood.
Her eyes burned with the urge to cry, but she refused because she knew that if she started, she would not be able to stop. Once the harsh wind had settled just a bit, she sat against her mother's grave, staring out into the open field where death was eminent. Her father had taught her to be strong no matter the situation; in his world, tears were a sign of sure weakness, defeat. Her mother on the other hand had told her many times that tears were only an indication that she had been strong for too long. With those two thoughts in mind, it was hard for Persia to decide which made more sense, but her father's views were set the strongest in her. In a situation like this, she discovered that she was thinking much like her father, as well.
"Sometimes, you have to make sacrifices for the ones you love..." He would always say to her and then tell her the many sacrifices he had made for Diane and his children.
Persia cast her eyes downward as Hunter Hearst Helmsley once again appeared in her mind's eye. That strong face and hard gaze were so clear she didn't even have to close her eyes. She loved him. Undeniably. It was an inseperable friendship love that'd grown like a titanium chain over a surprisingly short period of time. She wasn't sure if it was because she'd known him years before, but that didn't matter much to her now that she had a decision she had to make.
Her body trembled slightly as a new face appeared in her mind, the frightening, evil face of that demon, The Undertaker. She could still see the expression he had on his face when they first saw each other in the hallway of the arena. The silence that followed had been so intense all she could hear was her own breathing and her distant heartbeat. And there was something about those eyes; something that made it hard to look away from them. Not only did it feel like something was being pulled from her by those eyes, they had been rather...familiar. Yes, there was a familiarity within those acid green orbs that made her gut wrench. But where had she seen those eyes? For surely she'd seen the eyes, but not the entity they belonged to.
The questions could not help but linger, Why does he want me instead of Debra and Chyna? What have I done to him? Which, of course, lead to her contemplating how she would handle the situation. So far, she could only come up with one option and that was to save Hunter's friends by giving herself to The Undertaker. Most would call her foolish and idiotic to her face, but she was a woman of courage and her love for Hunter was part of what gave her that courage. Chyna was one of the closest people he had in his heart, despite the issues that threatened to seperate them. There wasn't much knowledge about Debra, but judging by the way he and Shawn all but panicked when they heard she was kidnapped, too, she was willing to bring her back with Chyna.
Sometimes, you have to make sacrifices for the ones you love.