A/N: Hey all my loyal readers and reviewers sorry it took me so long to update, but I've been working on this chapter forever and decided that it was finally finished.
Kane watched the horseman locker room with silent frustration. He hadn't been able to get Evan alone and there was no way of getting close to Abeebah without being noticed by those unaware of their 'relationship'. The thought of using the link had already crossed his mind, but seeing as he feared Bearer catching him if there was so much as whisper of magic, that avenue was no longer available to him. Paul had been watching him lately, too closely for comfort.
This had been the closest the big red machine had ever gotten to his 'friend' and her siblings in weeks. And just as the frustration that he had been amassing for the past half hour was about to boil over into a temper tantrum, his query stepped out into the hall. The youngest horseman's usual swagger was gone, and in its place a leashed tension stiffened the normally loose limbed gate. Hurriedly the younger Calloway tried to think of something to get Evan's attention. And just as the light skinned boy was about to walk in the opposite direction of where Kane hid, the big red machine stepped out of the shadows, scrapping his hand against the wall.
The strange sound immediately captured the boy's attention. He instantly turned around, only to see one half of his eldest sister's current dilemma staring back at him. Then a wild thought occurred, 'could it have been Kane whom Abeebah went on a date with?' They certainly spent a lot of time together outside of the ring. Even more time than she did with Taker, and that was saying something. But just as soon as the thought arose, it withered away in a fiery death, when it occurred to him that though it was a secret amongst the two sets of siblings that the Calloways spent time with Abeebah, Abeebah herself would never keep it a secret from her younger siblings if she actually dating one of them.
She wouldn't hide who it was from Danea if she was caught going out. The darkest horseman wouldn't see the point in such a trivial thing. It was this certainty that caused Evan to dismiss the thought, "Hey Kane, what d'ya need?" The youngest horseman made sure to keep quiet, ever aware that cameras were still near. The big man grunted, jerking his head to the shadows from which he had moments ago emerged. Getting the message loud and clear, Evan followed Kane back to the darkness from whence he came.
The littlest horseman trusted that though the chrisom demon's temperament was unpredictable, he wouldn't attack without provocation. The hazel eyed boy cautioned himself mentally, knowing that the provocation could be any and everything with the mood Kane was likely in. The big red machine led him on a merry dance through the halls, leading him further and further from the locker room. By the time that they got to wherever it was that they were going, Evan was long passed caring anymore.
He was tired, he was confused, and he was pissed. The littlest horseman glared at his sister's 'friend' with all the irritation his strained facial muscles could muster. Kane paid him no heed as the big red machine retrieved a pen and small piece of paper left unattended by the backstage crew. The dark haired man then proceeded to write down the message that had been boiling in his brain for weeks, and handed it to Evan. Then backing away, Kane didn't stick around long enough to see the boy's flushed features become starkly white.
In the locker room, Delia and the Hardy boyz were speculating over the identity of Abeebah's new boyfriend. Jeff winced at the thought of the most likely option he was going with actually being the frigid lady's significant other. The fact that she was moving stiffly enough for him to notice didn't bode well for his peace of mind. The fact that she wasn't wearing her usual ring attire seemed even more suspect, had Delia not forgone her own horse motif attire. However the threat that had issued from the eldest horseman's gaze had been enough to shut his mouth earlier, but not his suspicions. And in the wake of Abeebah's departure, Jeff's conscious made a swiftly brutal arrival, causing his temples to throb.
The girls had a match tonight and they could both get seriously injured if either one of them went into it already hurt. But Jeff was far from a fool, he'd be lucky if Morte just killed him. And Abeebah wouldn't risk both herself and one of her siblings just to cover her own ass, even for this. Or at least that was what he kept telling himself, even as he watched the monitor from which the three of them watched Brandon's match. But it was damn near impossible to pay attention with Delia voicing her opinion to Matt, whom in a rare moment was in an unknowing agreement with him. "Come on it has to be Taker!" the artistic enigma fought back a wince. Delia gazed pointedly at the ceiling, "what is everyone's fixation with my sister dating Taker?"
Jeff fought back the urge to point out that if the stiffness in her posture was anything to go by 'dating' wasn't all they were doing."It makes sense," Matt argued even as he ticked off the reasons with his hand. "They spend an almost alarming amount of time together." "Taker is the first guy to really 'understand' my sister," Delia retorted. "They have protected each other on multiple occasions." She rolled her dark eyes, "And beaten each other to the ground just as many." "He touches her even when anyone else wouldn't dare."
"And yet no one can point out a situation where Taker touched her with anything more than a sign of a gentleman to a lady," she countered exasperatedly. "Taker isn't a gentleman." "But Morte is most certainly a lady," Delia's eyes dared Matt to contradict her. And they all knew that he couldn't, but he was going try another avenue anyway, "their similar." Again Delia rolled her eyes. "And that makes them compatible as a couple how?" That stopped Matt in his tracks, because she did have a point. His brother on the other hand had to bite his tongue in order to not sign his own death warrant.
Jeff was sure that he knew the eldest horseman's secret. And Morte knew that he knew, which meant that once her sister started confronting her about the Deadman, she would know Jeff ratted her out. And he seriously doubted she'd believe him if he told her Viluppo figured it out on her own. Which would equate to the police never finding his body, this didn't sit well the rainbow haired wonder at all. But not so surprisingly, neither did the prospect of his girlfriend's fruitless and probably unending speculations. The way Jeff saw it; he had a choice between a slow agonizing death, and a quick but equally painful end. 'Decisions, decisions, decisions,' he sighs.
Abeebah watched her brother from her place at ringside. Guerra was barely keeping up with his more experienced opponent, which wasn't all that surprising. This wasn't the type of fight that the Johns siblings were subjected to for most of their lives. And even though they had ample time to adapt, each of the four horsemen still had difficulty not going to 'any' lengths to win. Simply put, while Brandon was definitely the better fighter, Shamrock was the better wrestler which counted more because the second eldest Johns was fighting to win not to survive.
It didn't stop her from wincing as she watched a particularly nasty kick connected with her brother's side though. She could hear her brother groan as he used the leg that had just kicked him to fling Shamrock away, and knew that Brandon was going to have bruised ribs coming out of this match. But given the amount of punishment the hammer of the horseman could absorb, Morte had no doubt that Guerra still had a fair shot of winning. At least that was she thought until she heard the crowd suddenly go wild and turned to see Lue running down the ramp. The dark lady's eyes narrowed, honing in on the piece of paper clutched in her brother's hand.
The fact that he was here at all meant trouble. She did not want to contemplate whatever news her youngest brother had to carry instead of memorizing it. 'Leave no physical evidence,' another hard learned lesson from their illustrious past. Quickly moving to intercept Lue, Morte didn't see Mankind Maguire wading through the crowd. Didn't know of Brandon's sudden abandonment of his fight against Shamrock, and didn't hear his sudden shout of warning over the roaring of the crowd. It was only an instant, but that moment of distraction was all Mankind needed to jump over the barricade, and attack Morte from behind.
"Thunk!!!" The piece of PVC pipe that the psychotic man had been carrying connected painfully with the back of Morte's head, launching her forward and onto the unprotected concrete. An almighty roar filled the arena with the indignant yells of spectators. And even as they were rushing from the horseman's locker room Jeff, Matt, and Viluppo cursed themselves for not seeing this retaliation coming. The eldest horseman didn't even have enough time to gasp as her masked face made bone jarring contact with the floor, vision blurring as a small goose egg began to form at the base of her skull. She did not get up.
Lue screamed, running even faster as the paper in his hand slipped away from his grasp. Guerra jumped over the top rope tackling Mankind to the mat before he could escape. Wrapping his meaty hands around Mankind's throat, Brandon began to squeeze. His sister's attacker tried to fight back, to no avail as Guerra's grip was solid and steady, and determined to slowly constrict the air flow to his lungs. Suddenly the pyros on the ramp went off, the lights abruptly dropping into an eerie red glow. Both of the male horsemen cursed, one abandoning his pursuit of making Mankind pay, the other hastening to get his sister up so that they could get out of harm's way.
Kane came out, his gate unhurried even as Paul yelled after the three horsemen from his side. The big red machine was in no rush to help his hapless quasi partner. In fact the big man deliberately slowed his pace, hoping to give Evan and Brandon a chance to get their incapacitated sister out of there. And they did so, Evan kicking Mankind in the nuts, while his older brother easily hefted Abeebah up against his bulky frame, and quickly making his way to the barricade in order to avoid Kane completely. Paul continued to holler, and had the lights not the porky man's completion, than the younger Calloway was sure it would be ruddy with malice.
Evan followed after his older brother over the barricade and through the crowd, keeping a wary eye on Kane whom was slowly making his way to the ring, all but ignoring his downed cohort. And everyone save for the youngest Johns were confused when the big red machine made no move to pursue them. The smallest horseman didn't know whether to be grateful for the behemoth's minimal assistance or enraged at his part in the attack in the first place. He supposed that at this point it didn't really matter, because either way they were getting out of there. Evan prayed silently for his eldest sister's wellbeing because Viluppo was at risk too if she wasn't.
In his dressing room, Taker stood nearly keeled over from the sudden and brutal blurring at the edges of his vision. Unable to stop himself, the elder Calloway shouted out through the mental bond tying him and his brother to Morte. 'What the hell?!!' And wasn't in the least bit surprised when only the throbbing at the base of his skull answered him, Kane hadn't bothered "talking" to him in months, and Abeebah was obviously in too much pain to manage it. Forcibly straightening his spine the deadman breathed in deeply, hoping to get himself under enough control to not go looking for his younger bond mate, thus further implicating their 'relationship' to the already suspicious masses.
McMahon was gunning for both of them. He didn't need any more ammunition. Exhaling, Taker once again tried to brush his awareness against his young friends in the hopes of finding out what the hell was going on without having to call attention to himself by showing concern. His futile attempt was once again answered by a near blinding headache. Foul curses filled the once still air as the red haired Calloway fought against the urge to vomit.
Forcing himself to once more take up a mask of stoicism, Taker surveyed his appearance through a mirror in the corner, before heading out of his dressing room. He hoped that there was someone nearby that knew what was going on. It didn't take long for the thunderous whispers to reach his ears, correlating into an endless amount of speculations and rumors. And from this furious stream of unedited chatter, Taker was able to deduct the most likely scenario as to why Abeebah could only focus on whatever pain she was experiencing.
And it was all he could do not to be overcome by the sea of rage pumping a livid acidic path through every blood vessel coursing through his body. Brandon's match had been a set up. Vince had known Morte would be paranoid enough to accompany her 'little' brother to the ring. The multimillionaire had been counting on it. The end result equated in Mankind had attacking her with a pipe, and apparently knocking Abeebah's lights out. Kane had done nothing. This was not unexpected though no less enraging to the incensed Phenom.
But for the sake of his bond mate Mark inhaled deep calming breathes, lest he add to what was probably shaping up to be the mother of all headaches. Deliberately lengthening his stride, Taker made his way to the horseman's dressing room, and wasn't surprised in the least when none of them were there. The thought of waiting didn't appeal to the red haired Calloway, but he would if it meant he could be with his 'friend' without suspicion. But that didn't make being alone with his darkening thoughts any easier. And it steadily got worse the longer Abeebah wasn't there to metaphysically drag his mind kicking and screaming back to the light of day.
Brandon's mind worked a mile a minute as he carried his older sister through the dim halls of the arena. Wandering with no clear destination, both he and Evan quietly chauffeured Abeebah along. They needed a viable plan and they needed it now! Delia and the Hardys were probably searching for them, but there was no way that the three horsemen could show up at the temporary trainers office while Brandon wasn't a hundred percent sure it wasn't another trap. They couldn't go back to their locker room for the same reason. Forcefully the second eldest Johns turned his thoughts away from what that could mean for his younger sister's further wellbeing.
He glanced over at his only younger brother, "Ev, go to the trainers and get some help would you?" And for a moment the littlest Johns stared at him in pure defiance. "And where do you think you'll you be going?" he spat out agitatedly. It was all the golden skinned young man could do not to give into his own anger and fear. "To find an empty locker room," he said very carefully measuring his tone to avoid all the churning emotions clawing at his gut. He shot Evan a half pleading glare before the willow thin boy could even think to protest. "Just go, this is neither the right time nor place for this shit." Oh how Lue would have loved nothing more than continuing arguing but he knew Brandon was right.
One of them had to keep watch over Abeebah while the other got medical help. As Evan couldn't protect both himself and their elder sister, Brandon obviously opted for the most viable choice. It was a wonder that he would even let Evan out of his sight anyway, after the stunt Mankind pulled. Yet the hammer of the horseman trusted him to be able to look after himself, even under the pressure of an all too real threat. And though the ginger eyed boy capitulated in the face of that very fact, he couldn't leave without a purely biting parting shot. "Fine, but there will be a 'right time' and 'right place', and then we'll be having some right words." The elder of the two boys didn't even bother to fight the urge to turn his eyes heavenward.
Picking up a piece of gravel Brandon informed his youngest sibling that he would mark the door that he and Abeebah would be in. Nodding, Evan silently promised to get help and find Delia before they both went their separate ways. The brawny apocalyptic rider quickly and quietly carried his sister deeper into the bawls of their current venue. Following the convenient maps that indicated the larger and probably abandoned storerooms, he went there in hopes that no one hostile would come looking. And the entire trip there his sister did not stir; only causing the ravenous fear eating at his stomach lining to become all the more gut wrenching.
It wasn't until sometime later when Brandon was finally able to settle his elder sibling down on a rickety metal table that the oldest horseman began to rouse. Carefully stepping out of striking distance, Guerra watched in partial relief as Morte awakened with a pained hiss. She immediately rolled onto her side, curling up into a tight ball, knees tight into her chest, and arms wrapping protectively around her masked skull. He nearly choked on his rage at the rare sight of her vulnerability, a sight that he had been seeing a lot more of lately, and for all the wrong reasons.
"What happened?" Abeebah's voice was a rasping whisper away from being too quiet to hear. And for a moment the brawny young man froze, unable to think passed the rage that swelled in his gut. Mankind's earlier actions throbbed behind his suddenly closed eyelids, along with the frenzied terror of watching Abeebah being dropped. 'Breathe,' he commanded himself forcibly aware that headache or not, his sister would become violent at his continued silence. Brandon cleared his throat uncomfortably aware of the bile that wanted to make a compulsory exit.
"Foley," was the only thing the younger wrestler was willing and able to choke out. And since her head was currently feeling as if it were vibrating, the answer he gave was enough for the eldest horseman, "medic?" "Evan is getting one now." They fell silent, both unable to really say anything beyond what was already said. Brandon wanted to say more, and knew he had to say more, even if only to further assess his sister's state without actually touching her. But he was quickly finding impossible to do so.
As for Abeebah, a thousand thoughts buzzed precariously through her aching head but she was unable to hold onto to them, let alone focus beyond the ringing in her ears. Trembling fingers fumbled with the leather straps holding her mask in place, until the sturdy pieces of leather finally gave way, and released. Inhaling the stale air, the dark Philadelphian nearly choked on the amount of dust that coated the table her eldest younger brother put her upon. This time Brandon didn't hesitate to help his dark eyed sister into the sitting position.
"How bad is it?" he asked, carefully supported her shoulders as he sat behind Abeebah so that his bulk further stabilized her. She coughed, "on a scale of one to ten?" "Pissed," Brandon turned slightly his grip becoming more firm as he glared at the sudden intrusion. Delia came strutting through the door, Matt and a medic not far behind her. And Brandon's gaze zeroed in on the chaotic horseman's busted lip. "What happened, where's Evan?" Not batting an eye at her sibling's abrupt demand, Delia rummaged around in the nearby junk pile to find something to sit on while the medic began to tend their sister.
Abeebah was too out of it to do more than flinch. "McMahon's cronies tried to get the jump on us while we were headed for the trainers." Matt explained as he took his place leaning on the wall next to the door. "Evan is with Jeff," Delia continued before either of her siblings could inquire of his whereabouts again, "he's fine." Abeebah's blunted nails dug in her palm as she idly listened to the medic's tottering over the condition of the knot swelling at the base of her skull. "Then why isn't he here," Abeebah retorted.
Delia's hickory hued orbs swiftly evaded the honeyed glare that was surely directed her way. And instead skittered to the set of green eyes of her older brother, determination intermingled with terror as their gazes met, and the truth became apparent to Brandon by way of knowing that his younger sister had a death wish. He had to strangle the sound that wanted to escape his already strained esophagus. Abeebah would do something even more stupid if she even got a hint as to what their wayward brother was doing.
Taker stood stoically backstage, his gaze intent, but in truth his focus was split. Neither Abeebah, nor her siblings had returned to their locker room and his match was fast approaching. The fact that they didn't return could mean anything or nothing at all, but the big man absolutely couldn't go into this match up distracted. It was really simple; he just had to find out what was going on. However time wasn't on the red haired man's side, and he was just moments away from entering battle with some might say was his ultimate rival.
And yet after fruitlessly waiting for any of the Johns siblings to return, there was still hid nor hair of any of them. The Deadman had cut it close getting to the Gorilla, dragging his feet in hopes to get the even tinniest of clue where his youngest bond mate was. All he got was an earful of speculations from those whom the demon of Death Valley passed by, and a new appreciation for Abeebah's ability to be patient.
Now he stood, still as a slab of marble stone, frigid temper on the cutting edge. All flinched from the Undertaker's presence, as if struck, even as they rushed to cue his entrance music. "Taker!" the world all but froze under the big man's feet as he slowly turned to see Abeebah's slender brother rush toward him. The boy was a mass of assorted bruises and an ugly scowl. His 'ring attire' was in utter disarray and his eyes filled with black rage. Worst of all Deadman didn't know whether to be worried or relieved that the littlest Johns wasn't alone.
The red haired Texan vaguely recognized Delia's rainbow haired boyfriend. And he too was a little worse for wear. Ignoring this, Mark turned his attention back to Evan, "where is she?" "Getting looked after by a medic," the sharp look that the petite boy sent his way prevented the elder Calloway from pushing for more answers. There were too many other people around for Abeebah's location to be kept a secret. Just as swiftly as the stern look was there on Evan's face, it was gone, leaving an exhausted sort of worry in its place. "She got knocked in the head pretty good." He informed the wrestler.
Mark grunted, trying to seem unconcerned even though the worry and suddenly reawakened rage ate at the pit of his stomach. "Will she ready for her match?" Everyone else might be fooled by the Deadman's act but Evan wasn't. He knew, much like his sister Undertaker wouldn't ask if he didn't care. And his tacit way of inquiring after Abeebah worked to their advantage, so Evan didn't feel in the least bit guilty indulging him. "Ready? By the time she gets up, Morte is going to be royally pissed." A twitching half smile, half scowl was his only answer to this, and it was the only one he needed as his sister's friend turned to make his signature entrance.
"It is a perverse diabolical structure," JR spoke in disgusted awe as Mr. McMahon's newest creation was lowered over the ring. King sat next to him, in just as much appalled awe as he, "satanic, hellish."They had all know this was coming for weeks now, but there was no stopping the shock, horror, and even bloodlust that seemed to suffocate the already adrenaline latent air. "It is custom built for injury," the Oklahoma cowboy proclaimed, trying to impress upon the audience the severity as to what was about to happen.
He had a sinking suspicion that they were paying his words no heed as Mankind began his entrance. The masked man made his way down the aisle, his lumbering gate not in the least bit hampered by the steel chair he had brought to the match. Twitchingly the bipolar inclined wrestler walked around the unforgiving cage, inspecting the prison that he was to be locked in along with whom many considered to be his most deadly adversary. The already hardcore legend paid no mind to the roaring crowd as he tossed his chosen weapon up onto the top of the cell, ignored King and JR predictions of hospitals or lack therefore of, and didn't give a wit as he began to climb the chain link beast before him.
"What is he doing, you're supposed to start inside the cage you moron." The former wrestler turned announcer called out over the thunderous crowd. And suddenly the arena was plunged into darkness, tooling bells heralding a sudden coldness that could only mean one thing. "And suddenly there is a chill in the igloo, heralding the arrival of one man, the Phenom of the WWF, the Undertaker." JR announced to the now frantic enthusiasts, becoming enthralled with the mood change. The bells abruptly gave way to the wailing of an electrical guitar.
Ambient purple light lit, revealing the red haired wrestler to the screaming fans and spectators. Stern faced and hard hearted the Undertaker made his way to the ring, pyros going off as he walked, as if to punctuate the rage that he held in single-minded control. However it didn't stop either of the senior announcers from speculating on his current state of mind. Stopping just a few feet short of the cell, Taker shed his long sleeveless robe. And then without taking his eyes off of his adversary, the Deadman climbed the cage with a speed belying his great bulk.
But he wasn't fast enough to avoid getting hit in head with a chair. Undertaker held on for dear life, as steel connected with bone, once, twice, three times, before he was able to make it on top of the cell. And still Mick Foley didn't relent in his attack, using the chair again and again before the behemoth that he was facing was able to knock it out of his grasp. Now they exchanged blows, both unable to get a clear advantage with their footing precarious at best. Using the mandible claw Foley took full control of the match.
And only Mankind was even crazy enough to try a piledriver on top of the cell, yet was thankfully countered, as Taker used Mankind's momentum to send the glutton for punishment toppling up and over the Phenom's back. The cell shook but held, and they were at it again, not in the least bit acknowledging the world around them. This stopped being about a match a long time ago; this was all out war. Neither gave a damn about winning, it was all about who could do the most damage to the other.
By the time they made it to the side where the announcers' tables were Undertaker's foot had already punched a hole through the chain link material that covered the entire structure. And his opponent's mask was torn from his face, weathered by years of abuse. The green eyed Calloway discarded the multi strapped piece of leather without a care. Foley tried to put some distance between them, using the crossbeams for support as he moved around. But Taker would have none of it, reaching out as far as he dares to once again attack his rival.
Yet Foley is far from helpless and strikes back viciously with stinging shots as they tried to navigate around the cells exterior. Stumbling neither of them were able to get solid footing on the steel contraption. Head butting Mankind, Taker grasped at the lapels of Mankind's white shirt. Mankind in turn grabbed at Taker's black top, both fighting with all they had to get the upper hand. But as they teetered dangerously close to destruction, it was the Undertaker whom seized the moment and threw Foley over the edge. Time seemed to slow as the world watched Mankind fall, from the top of the cage through the Spanish announce table down to the concrete floor that waited below.
"WITH GOD AS MY WITNESS, MANKIND IS BROKEN IN HALF!" Just as suddenly time resumed its normal course, with King and JR calling for the medics and the audience launched into a frenzied shock, and Undertaker standing alone looking down on the man he just might have paralyzed for life. EMT's rushed out of the gorilla with a gurney in tow. Vince followed them, instructing stage hands to have the cell raised so that the medics could get through.
And suddenly Undertaker found himself being raised fifteen feet in the air along with the metallic beast beneath his feet. McMahon, along with the emergency medical team and Terry Funk quickly made their way to Foley, just barely managed to roll on his side. The EMT's slide the heavily injured man onto the gurney and began to push it away. McMahon signaled for the cell to be lowered so that the Undertaker could get down and as Vince's latest brain child began to make's its descent, Taker began to climb down its side, dropping to the concrete when it got close enough to the floor. "Well folks, that's the end of this match, wait. What the hell is Mick doing?!!"
And sure enough the brunette was fighting his way past medics, Vince, and his friend and sometimes tag partner to get back to the cell. Taker was both impressed and pleased, so much so that he once again mounted the chain link fence incasing the ring in order to get to the top of the cell. Mankind wasn't far behind; face a bloody mess and stride quite crocked. Taker took one look at the older wrestler and came to a decision. Hoisting himself up once more, the Deadman began to scale the cell. They would finish this match.
Backstage Kane was barely able to fend off the headache currently splitting his skull in two. He had hardly been able to sneak away from Paul as his 'partner's match had begun. So the big man thanked whatever deity that was listening when Mankind was thrown off of the cell, distracting Bearer just long enough to slip into the shadows. The big red machine knew he was going to pay for his disappearing act later. However the ache currently pounding between his eyes would not be denied. And there was no way he would let Paul catch on to what was happening to him.
The younger Calloway always suspected that his father's old assistant had something to do with the dissolving of him and his brother's bond all those years ago. And despite the lack of evidence, there was no other explanation for it. Taker's old 'mentor' knew of he and his brother's talents, though neither of them ever uttered a word about their' connection to anyone for most of their lives. In fact Abeebah and her siblings were the first to ever be informed of it.
But Bearer never gave any clear sign whether he was truly aware of their bond or not. There were hints here and there when both of the Calloway brothers were still in their parents' care, looks that he would give them if they were to communicate silently in his presence. However the fat bastard certainly gave no indication now, whether he knew of his and Taker's bond with the eldest horseman. And Glen had no intention of revealing it to him either way.
Abeebah was in enough danger with the former mortician merely trying to get her out of his way. Mismatched eyes closed involuntarily remembering the raw frigid touch of his younger bond mate's power, a power that has never been tapped into beyond the emotional level, a power frightening in its solidarity. That very same power Abeebah had no intention of ever using would be more than a little appealing to Bearer. A quaking shudder racked through his large frame at the very thought of Bearer's full attention being placed upon his 'friend'.
Slightly disoriented, the big man's gaze snapped open. Kane flexed his hands trying to restore feeling in his suddenly stiff digits. He moved, slowly making his way to the sink located in the corner of the bathroom he was currently hiding in. Each step brought on a bout of nausea that the dark haired young man had to contend with, and he absently wondered which of his bond mates were currently suffering this particular head trauma. Using his hands as support, Kane leaned over the white porcelain bowl, breathing in as deeply as his mask would allow.
It was a battle of its own just to force his double vision to once again come into focus, but Glen was mutinously stubborn and doubly determined. Whatever happened, tonight he would become the world wrestling federation champion. Finally looking at himself in the mirror, Kane couldn't help the snort that issued from his damaged throat. The sound was raw, cracked, and painful, but he couldn't help himself. Even with the mask covering his entire face his eyes told the entire story which his 'security blanket' would never be able to hide. At this rate he'd be lucky to survive against the rattlesnake, let alone win the match.
Vince couldn't say that he was displeased as he and his entourage returned to the skybox to watch the remainder of the freshly invented hell in the cell match. The audience was definitely in awe at the spectacle arranged for them. Both the Undertaker and Mankind were taking full advantage of the 'no rules' part of this particular match to its full gory potential. Tacks, wire, stairs, chairs, and the cell itself were used as horrifically efficient weapons by both competitors. And it seemed that neither was willing to be outdone by the other, both reaching for new heights in brutality. But from the look of things it wouldn't last for much longer.
Mick Foley was a bloody mess, and Undertaker was definitely more pale than usual, with tacks sticking into his flesh through his wrestling attire. Snapping his fingers, Vince didn't even bother to look at the assistant that he had summoned. "Find the horsemen, and headbangers, their match is next." "Sir?" The business tycoon finally glanced up at the poor employee, dark eyes glaring with deadly promise, "I will not repeat myself, go." Hastily the unfortunate man went to do as his employer said, fearing that if he didn't move faster his job would be forfeit.
The assistant hurried backstage, but it didn't take long to find the headbangers and deliver the message that he was assigned. However finding the horsemen was a completely different story. It was as if they completely disappeared. No one had seen neither hide nor hair of any of them, at least not since Lue last spoke to Taker, most likely on his fallen sister's behalf. It would surprise anyone if they had all left, considering the four siblings had been attacked multiple times tonight.
But Vince wasn't in a merciful mood, and the manipulative boss was most likely going to fire him if he failed in this task, so he kept looking. It wasn't until he passed by a trainer heading back to the temporary office that the assistant was able to find them. It turns out the other man had been treating the eldest. And the assistant was somewhat pleased to find out that that both Viluppo and Morte though a little worse for wear from their respective ambushes, were still considered healthy enough to fight.
The assistant didn't want to think about how he was going to have to explain the situation had both of the horsemen been too injured to fight. 'Though he probably shouldn't have to considering the asshole was the one who set up the traps to take them out.' He thought with just a hint of censure. Following the trainer's instructions the irritated man did find where the four siblings were hiding out and delivered his message before leaving just as quickly. He didn't want to stick around for the explosion that would surely occur.
Abeebah, Brandon, Delia, and Evan stared blankly at the door that that one of Vince's flunky's exited out of. Shocked rage curdled abruptly in the pit of the third eldest horseman's stomach. She tried to rein it in, hold on to it, save it for the match that she and her sister were obviously were still going to be participating in. But the sudden throbbing pulsing behind her eyeballs would not be denied. Well aware of what was about to happen, her brothers moved away from her, Brandon taking hold of Abeebah's arm so that he could pull her into the corner with them.
Delia flew into a rage, dark brown eyes turning nearly black with fury as she proceeded to throw any and everything in her path. Pretty soon foul curses and screams of frustration accompanied smashed tables, and overthrown chairs. And the Johns brothers were content to let Delia take out her anger on the room, Abeebah on the other hand was not. "Stop her." Both Brandon and Evan looked at their eldest sister as if she lost her mind. Irritable cat like eyes stared glaciers at them, "Viluppo will tire herself out."
The emphasis that Abeebah placed on their youngest sister's ring name wasn't lost on either of them. "What do you expect us to do?" Evan's face became red with equal parts of irritation and horror at being included, but just as the protest welled up in his throat, Abeebah's quiet command cut him off, "stop her." There was no room for argument in her tone, and neither Evan nor Brandon dared to do so, despite her current condition. Grumbling they both got up, uneasily edging around the mayhem that was Delia's temper.
Brandon placed himself in front of the line of fire, knowing that if worst came to worst he could take the beating. Evan flanked him on the chaotic apocalyptic rider's blind side. Trepidation clouded the elder Johns features but his voice was firm as he called out to his younger sister, "Delia." "What?" the caramel skinned young woman growled back, almost savagely. Brandon fought the urge to tell her to calm down. That was the worst thing he could say in Delia's current mood, but it made the struggle to come up with an alternative all the harder.
"You have a match." "And you think I don't remember?" The willowy wrestler fisted her hands, nails digging viciously into her palms. Brandon couldn't stop himself, "from the way you're acting, not a chance in hell." He knew it was the wrong thing to say the moment he opened his mouth but he regretted it even more as Delia took a menacing step forward. "Stop it," once again Abeebah's quiet command cut through the air, this time her focus solely directed at their light skinned sister. "We have a match, so shelve the fucking attitude till we get to the ring."
Velvety dark eyes glared hotly at their bronze counterparts, with every intention of retaliating. Only to be stopped short by the sheer weight of the negative vibes being bounced of the chilling calm that was Abeebah. None of them had any doubt that their sister's glare could have bent steel. Brandon shot his elder sister a look that clearly asked her why she didn't just do that in the first place. A look that she deliberately ignored as she got up went to retrieve her mask, and then headed for the door.
Her siblings were slow to follow, but follow they did. Making sure to keep well ahead of them, Morte dawned her mask once more, with a quiet hiss of discomfort. Her head still throbbed painfully, and she felt inexplicably sore. All Abeebah wanted to do was to go back to the hotel that the event planners had booked, and lay down. But the darkest horsemen stiffened her spine, and ignored the twinges sending little white flashes across her field of vision.
The beating was finally over. Terry Funk aka Chainsaw Charlie breathed a little easier as he helped his friend to lay down on the waiting gurney. He had known that there was no way that Mick would win when his former protégé took a dive through the chain link fence at the top of the cell. As much damage that Foley could absorb, there was only so much the human body could take. The blond haired senior wrestler was surprised that he was even able to move after the shove into the Spanish announce table.
Glancing over his shoulder, the former ECW veteran gazed upon the victorious Undertaker, just standing in the middle of the ring. It was obvious that the Deadman was in much better shape than his friend and sometimes rival. He could barely see the abrasions littering his bland skin, and strained cast of pale features in the darkened arena. The Phenom had definitely been in a more vicious mood tonight, and Terry wondered. What the hell had Mankind been thinking?
Mark watched his opponent be rolled away on the stretcher, with more satisfaction than he'd admit to anyone. The hell in the cell match was almost therapeutic in its violence, and was quickly becoming the red head's favorite. But suddenly stinging cuts made themselves known along with the telltale pincushion feeling alighting his shoulders and backside painfully. Taker fought down a grimace. There was no doubt that he would be having a rather embarrassing trip to the hospital, and didn't relish at the idea of having tacks pulled out of his ass. Then something else occurred to the near seven footer, he was going to have to drive himself there.
Clenching his teeth, Mark swallowed the myriad of curses that wanted to spew forth from his lips. Even now, amidst the field of bloodied victory the Undertaker had an image to uphold. Subtly the wrestler straightened his stance and began to make his own exit. And he was never more grateful for the slow pace of his entrance. Because walking with tacks stuck in his butt was such a painful process, Mark took his time, going tediously slow as the tacks and shards of glass dug painfully into his flesh through his attire.
Walking up the ramp became an agonizing challenge; as the slope made it easier for the sharp objects clinging to him dig all the more deeply. He managed to make it backstage, but by the time he got there the Gorilla was curiously full. Mosh and Thrasher stood across from the horsemen smirking for all they were worth, while Delia, Evan, Brandon, and Abeebah glared at the two idiots. The stagehands milled around them, not paying any attention to the silent confrontation. But it wasn't this that caught the Deadman's attention. Standing out like a sore thumb, a gray eyed woman looked at him directly in the eye, her angular face severe in its blandness. Mark knew this woman, "Jodie."