Glen sat alone in his room, plotting what he perceived as the only thing that could clear his mind of the voices that constantly spoke to him. They were getting darker, clamoring for blood and pained screams laced with begging. With a trembling hand he picked up a picture from the table and stared at it until it because a blurry splotch of color. Growling he dashed the tears away with his arm and went back to the piece of paper that was covered in scrawled writing and hastily drawn plans. His eyes started to blink slowly as sleep crept over him, but he forced himself to stay awake and finish his plans.

"I have too." He hissed; breaking the silence.

"No, you don't have too. You want too." The voice whispered seductively in his ear. "You want to be the causer of pain, the initiator of earthly horrors."

"NO!" Glen cried, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. "I just want this to be over, I want to go back to being normal, where the only thing I have to worry about is whether I want Scott or Mark…"

"You poor, wretched fool. Things will never be the same. This is just the beginning. You have great potential in you, I can sense it. Together we can great things." It purred, luring Glen deeper into the delusion.

"N-no, once I-I-I do this, I'm done." He stuttered as he tried to break the spell that the hypnotic voice had woven over him. "No one else gets hurt. No One!"

"Silly fool, do you really think that you can stop me?" Mocking laughter filled his ears and Glen clamped his hands over them to block it out. "You're nothing but a puppet to me, only here to do my bidding."

A knock on the door startled Glen and jumped, sending his chair flying backwards. No one knew his room number; there was no way they could have found it out. The knocking grew more persistent and cautiously Glen moved over to the door; sneaking a peek through the peep hole. He let out a breath when he seen it was just the maid. He quickly schooled his face into what he hoped was a calm smile and cracked the door.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm here for the daily cleaning sir." She replied pleasantly.

"Of course." Glen moved aside and held the door open so that she could push the car through.

"I'll only be a minute."

"Take your time."

Glen walked back over and took his seat at the table, watching her out of the corner of his eyes. She was petite in stature; he didn't even think she'd make it to his chest; with impossibly red hair that fell in waves down her back, ripping enticingly as she moved. She moved around the room quickly, changing the sheets; replacing towels, refilling toilet paper. Glen's hands started to itch and he stared at them confused, it was as if something was controlling him. He felt himself getting up from the chair and carefully; quietly walking over to where she was standing, her back to him. Each step brought him closer and his nose flared as he picked up her scent. Within moments he was close enough that he didn't have to stretch his hand out to touch her. She was still engrossed in what she was doing that she didn't notice him behind her, and with one small, quick movement she was dead.

Her lifeless body dropped to the floor with a sickening thud. The sound finally drawing Glen from the trance like state he had been in. His eyes widened as he realized what he had done and he stumbled back towards the bathroom; falling to his knees as his stomach tried to propel itself out through his mouth. Over the gagging he heard the maniacal laughter that marked the voice's presence.

"What did I tell you?" It mocked. "You can't stop me Glen, or should I say, you can't stop yourself."

The laughter continued to ring in his ears as he faded from consciousness; his hands gripping the cool porcelain of the toilet bowl.


Mark was seated in Vince's room, watching as his boss paced like a caged animal; his hands clasped behind his back. Shawn and Hunter were sitting on the couch, likewise watching as Vince strode across the room only to turn and repeat the circuit. Finally Vince exploded, picking up a coffee cup from the nightstand and smashing it against the wall. All three men jumped, their eyes wide as Vince rolled his shoulder. They had never seen him act like this; he was always in control of his emotions so this sudden burst of anger had them all on edge.

"How long have you known about Glen's destructive streak?" He asked; his voice deceptively calm.

"I'm not sure what yer talking about Vince?" Mark said slowly; wanting to know how much Vince actually knew about it. "In case you haven't noticed, Glen hasn't been exactly socializing with the rest of the roster."

"It's true Vince." Shawn piped up, deciding that it would be better off for them if they pretended like they had no idea about what was going on. "We can't exactly know what's going on if he's not talking to us."

"That's where you're wrong Shawn." Vince growled as he stopped in front of Shawn and Hunter. "I know for a fact that two weeks ago, Glen, Hunter, and yourself left here and headed to WCW. Granted, Shawn you were the first one to take off, but Glen and Hunter followed not too long after. So that tells me that you two know more than you're letting on."

"That was……a misunderstanding Vince." Shawn said carefully, wondering if Vince knew why they had gone to WCW.

"According to Bischoff, the door to Scott Hall's door was kicked clean off the hinges and Kevin Nash was found barely conscious in his room the next morning. Seems funny that three of my guys go missing and then there's damage done to one of Bischoff's men while the other has a large fine that was paid by one…." Vince wandered back over to the table and picked up a piece of paper. "Glen Jacobs." Vince raised his eyes and quirked his eyebrow at the two on the couch.

"See what had happened…" Shawn started, but Mark interrupted him.

"That bastard Nash deserved it." He growled as he got up from his chair.

"What makes you say that Mark?"

"I-I can't tell you, it's not my place to say, but just trust me that everything he's suffered was brought on entirely by himself."

"Am I to assume that you had something to do with Nash's condition?"

"No." Mark said shortly, grinding his teeth. "I had had something to do with it; fucker would have been dead, not unconscious."

Mark didn't give Vince anytime to say anything else, he surged up from his chair and stormed from the room; slamming the door behind him in his frustration. Because of Vince's idiotic detainment Mark had no idea where Glen had gone or how to find him in the hotel, short of going and knocking on every single door in the hotel. And that was something that he really had no intention of doing. With a loud growl he headed back to his room, slamming his door and yelling as loud as he could.


Hours later Glen came too, his head pounding and his mouth tasting like egg-salad that had been left out in the sun too long. He pushed himself shakily to his feet, wondering why he was curled up on the bathroom floor. He placed his hands on the sink counter and squinted at his reflection. His eyes were spider webbed with red and his had dried vomit at the corner of his mouth. He closed his eyes, and turned the water on; fumbling around on the counter top for his toothbrush. After he managed to get the sickly taste of stomach acid out of his mouth, he reached over and grabbed a wash cloth; thoroughly wetting it with cold water. He raised his eyes back to the mirror and shook his head before slapping the cloth over his face and rubbing vigorously.

When he was done, he laid the cloth out so that it would dry then headed back out to the bed room wondering again why he was in the bathroom, clutching the toilet as if his life depended on it. Or course the minute he seen the maids prone body on the floor everything came rushing back and fell to his knees, hysterical laughter mixing with horrified yells. And above it all, the maniacal laughter only he could hear bounced off the walls, creating a bone chilling symphony.