Unnatural Love

BY : FlameWolf
Category: WWF/WWE > Het - Male/Female
Dragon prints: 4423
Disclaimer: I don’t know and have never met Undertaker, Sting, Hulk Hogan, Mankind, Shawn Michaels, Triple H, Vince Mc Mahon, Jim Ross, Paul Bearer, Kane or C.M. Punk. This is fiction, for fun and no profit will be made from it.

Author’s Note:  I’m so sorry for the big delays.  Real life and writer’s block are mean.  I really hope I can get back on a schedule soon.


Chapter Ten: A Fight and a Revelation


    Once again, Sam found herself sitting ringside; Sting by her side.  Since the day she had come here, he had seemed to take her protection upon himself, something she was becoming more and more grateful for.  Especially now that she had become a real target of Vince.  Watching Taker’s entry point, she honestly wondered if being trusted with the urn wasn’t a curse.  While she wouldn’t shirk her responsibility, she was honestly petrified.  None of these men were ‘normal’.  To make it worse, none of them had any real autonomy.  Since their existence and even sentience relied on Vince’s whims, none of them could really disobey him.  Even the man sitting to her right.

    While he and Punk were good friends at this point, they could realistically be forced to turn against her.  A fact that honestly bothered her.  Thankfully, the tell tale gonging of the bells began, signaling the Phenom’s arrival.  Smoke soon filled the stadium as the funeral dirge started, the silhouette of the man himself appearing as if out of nowhere.  With his trademark hat and trenchcoat, he made an intimidating figure.  Slowly, he made his way to the ring, pyrotechnics going off behind him.  He paid no attention to the people screaming his name or craning out their arms just to brush his coat.  To him, they were just noise.

    Taking off his hat and coat when he got closer, he carefully handed them to Sam; bending slightly to press a kiss to her lips before continuing to the stairs.  Blushing, the flustered femme folded his coat before placing it in her lap with his hat on top.  Chuckling, Sting gave her a very gentle bump with his elbow.  “Taker’s come a long way since he met you.  Just the trust he shows you is proof of that,” he pointed out as the man in ring turned to face the entry point that had been set up for his ‘brother.’

    All too soon, the synth organ began to play; followed by a guitar playing a haunting yet badass tune.  With a burst of fire, Kane appeared on the ramp before stomping his way to the ring.  Even behind a mask, you could see malice radiating from him; his dark eyes focused on a now cowering female.  Sting was on his feet in a second, standing in front of her while Undertaker moved to the edge of the ring.  Clenching his fists, the behemoth charged; sliding under the bottom rope to immediately begin punching his ‘brother.’  A fact the powerful warrior seemed utterly unphased by.  In fact, he didn’t even blink.

    Instead, he simply seemed to be waiting for the other man to tire himself out.  It didn’t take long for the enraged warrior to make a mistake Taker could exploit.  Kane went too wide with a punch, exposing him to sock to the ribs.  Nowhere near as invincible as his older ‘sibling’, the black and red clad fighter crumpled; holding his side while glowering up at his opponent through his hair.  Taking advantage of this, the Dead Man gave the downed wrestler a boot to the head; knocking him to the floor and causing him to roll slightly.

    Screaming in pain and rage, the masked male held his head and writhed; seemingly knocked senseless for the time being.  Glaring down, the other wrestler prowled like a predator stalking its prey.  He didn’t notice the fallen man reaching for something in a pouch on his belt.  Kneeling to pick up the other warrior for a finisher, Taker got something thrown in his face; reeling backwards and howling.  Blood streamed down his features as he slowly removed his hands to reveal thumbtacks littering his forehead and a bit of his cheeks.  In fact, he was lucky none had gotten his eyes.

    On his feet once more, the masked monster rushed his injured opponent; bashing him back first into one of the turnbuckles.  A screech of agony left the usually invincible man before he was grabbing his ‘brother’s’ head with both hands.  Ignoring the tack in his head and the mask the other man was wearing, he gave Kane a full on headbutt.  The vicious male collapsed while the other straightened, pulling himself free of the corner with his face now coated in crimson.  Upper lip lifting, the Phenom kicked the downed warrior; forcing him to roll onto his back.  Then he was covering him, lifting a leg for a pin.

    Immediately, the ref began the count only for Kane to kick out at the last moment.  Rolling to one side, he got to his feet; one hand coming up to cover his disguised face.  With a snarl, he slammed himself into the ropes, launching at Undertaker.  With the force of a car crash, he was slamming into the other man, effectively forcing him into the turnbuckle.  Grabbing the temporarily stunned man in a bear hug, the aggressor began to try squeezing the life out of his victim.  Already, the warrior in his grasp was wincing, grabbing at his hair and pulling.

    It was at that moment Sam was on her feet and moving, making a beeline for the side of the ring with the urn in her hands.  She had seen enough of his matches to know what he needed now.  Raisin the urn, she came close to dropping it.  It was like she was being struck by lightning, shocks running from the urn and all the way down both arms.  It was a pain she had never felt before and it was only her determination that helped her keep her grip.  Gritting her teeth, she kept the thing aloft while she watched to power come back to her partner.  With a supernatural amount of power, the Dead Man was grabbing his ‘brother’ and hefting him into the air.

    Shaking his own hair out of his eyes, he threw a struggling Kane down onto his back.  A yowl of pain filled the arena, the audience demanding his blood.  Still holding the urn aloft, Samantha grit her teeth while sweat poured from her brow.  All the times she had seen ‘Taker fight, Paul Bearer had never seemed affected by the funerary container.  Why was it hurting her?  Was it because of her connection to its master?  Thankfully it appeared the match would be ending soon and she would be able to wrap it in her lover’s coat.  Still, she was getting dangerously close to passing out.

    Suddenly, she felt someone come up behind her; strong arms coming up to help support hers.  Turning her head slightly, she saw Sting giving her a rather incredulous glance.  Smiling gratefully, she returned her attention to the fight.  At that moment, the phenom was lifting the other man and turning him into an upside down position. The calling cards of the infamous ‘Tombstone.’  His eyes met hers then he was ending it, slamming Kane down onto the mat headfirst.  The masked male fell backward limply, almost appearing dead.  Folding the other warrior’s arms over their chest in a corpse pose, the dead man threw his head back, rolled up his eyes until the whites showed and snaked out his tongue; almost resembling a demon.

    It was only a high pitched scream from the back that drew attention away from the spectacle.  Turning slightly, Sam saw a horrified Paul Bearer waddling full speed toward the ring.  With a wail, the overweight man threw himself into the ring; crouching over the prone fighter as ‘Taker got to his feet.  Whimpering, the pathetic creature helped Kane into a sitting position while the ref declared the winner.  It was only then that Sam released the urn, letting out a quiet whimper as she slid to the ground.  Sting knelt next her, the urn still in his hands.  Both of them examined her hands as the Phenom left the ring to see what had happened.  To Sam’s shock, her hands were perfectly fine.

    Glancing up at the two men over, she couldn’t help but feel confused.  The urn had never harmed her before and it had never seemed to hurt Paul Bearer.  What was different now?  Had her touch somehow woke something up in the object?  Staring at the metal container, she allowed herself to be helped to her feet.  “I have no idea what happened.  She just... seemed like she was being burned or something,” mumbled from far away just before she found herself swept into a pair of arms.  Then she found herself being carried rapidly back to the dungeon.

    Vaguely aware that Sting was following with his hat, coat and urn, Sam leaned into her partner’s chest and allowed his scent to calm her anxiety.  All the while, she stared at her hands.  They still felt like the skin had been burned off yet there was nothing wrong with them.  Thankfully, some of the pain was already beginning to fade.  “What’s happening to me?” she mused out loud as the man carrying her entered their shared room.

    Carefully, she was set down in a chair at the table; the other man close behind.  Seeming to know the pair needed privacy, he left the items on the table and exited.  Not even taking notice, Undertaker took her hand in his to examine them.  His lips pursed and his brow furrowed ever so slightly.  With a gruff noise, he kissed her upturned palms before turning his head to shoot a glance at the urn.  Following his gaze, she inhaled sharply when she saw it was starting to glow a faint, dark red and smoke began to pour from the space between the lid and body.  “Wh-what’s happening?” she whispered, feeling slightly lightheaded.  Then she was falling unconscious, the Phenom barely catching her before she hit the floor.




    The smell of death and blood filled the air along with the screams of the tormented dead.  A pair stands near a blood river, a boat made of skeletons floating close by.  A much taller, cloaked male regarded the female next to him with a blank expression.  Yet, she didn’t seem to mind.  “Come back quickly Archeron.  I get so lonely when you are gone,” chuckled a playful plea, eliciting a soft rumble from the male.  It almost seemed as if her little jest had actually worried her companion.  Sure enough, he stepped closer; dark eyes boring into hers.

    “I was just kidding love.  I know you have a job to do.  Besides, Cerberus is always up for a visit and a scratch,” she tried to assure, standing on tiptoe to kiss cold lips.  Instead of letting her pull away, he swept her into strong arms; nose burrowing in the crook of her neck.

    In his own way, he was telling her he didn’t like to leave her like this.  Then he was bending, capturing her lips in a kiss full of hunger as well as love.  Then he was leaving, clambering onto the ancient transport and picking up a ong, gnarled stick.  With a final look back, he began to make his way down the crimson flow.  Watching until he disappeared into the gloom, the woman let out a soft sigh.  While she didn’t regret her decision to move down here, it did get a bit creepy; especially ambient with the ambient noises.

    None of this was helped by the fact that none of the Gods were thrilled she was even down here.  Especially Zeus and Aries.  Neither of them felt Archeron deserved a mate.  All he needed was his job, not distractions.  Shaking her head, she made her way into the massive, winding caverns.  A network so complicated, most people had no hope of finding their way out.  She and Archeron were one of the few exceptions.  Choosing a path, she easily made her way to the massive, three headed guardian of the Underworld.  Ahead of her, a huge, black shape shifted, an initial growl of warning echoing off the walls.  When the beast saw who it was, hostility turned to happiness.

    Snake tail wagging wildly, the huge canid got to his feet; all three heads lowering for their share of scratches.   Ruby eyes fixed on hers as she reached for one of the ears of the middle head.  “You’re one of the good things about living down here boy.  Eat any troublesome souls lately?” came a jovial question that earned an excited lick from the rightmost head.

    “Get away from the dog,” snarled a cold, gravely command, making her jump out of her skin and her companion start snarling viciously.

    Turning on her heel, she was faced with the towering, muscular form of Hades.  A black and red toga graced his muscular body and a long, black beard reached down to his chest.  Angry coals of crimson glowered down at her before he shoved her away from the canine.  With just a look, he sent a still growling Cerberus back to his post before turning his ire back to the human woman.  “You spoil him far too much.  You’re making him soft,” spat the pissed deity, his large hands clenching at his sides.

    “Has what I’m doing affected his execution of his duty?  I have seen him still dispose of children that try to escape,” she spat, blue eyes shining with her own anger.

    Huffing, Hades slapped her hard enough to make her head turn.  “Do not presume to speak back to me Celandine.  You are not above my orders despite your association with Archeron.  Remember that it is only for him that I tolerate your presence here at all,” he snarled, not wanting to admit that she was ultimately right.  Cerberus hadn’t been shirking.  In fact, he had only gotten better at his job.  Almost as if he was happier.  It would be a cold day in his domain before he ever admitted that, however.

    “You think you and the other Gods can scare me?  No.  If I do not fear Archeron, I will never fear you.  Nor will I ever respect you until the same courtesy is given to me.  As for Cerberus, I will continue to do as I like.  Even beasts deserve friends,” she hissed, standing her ground with a red handmark across one cheek.

    Growling and lifting his hand to teach the insolent mortal some manners, he stopped mid-swing when he heard a sharp snarl from Cerberus.  The guardian was now on his feet all three sets of his fangs showing in a clear warning.  Narrowing his eyes at the hellhound, Hades lowered his hand and simply took his leave.  Only when he was gone, did Celandine allow herself to go to the ground.  A shaking hand went up to her still sore cheek, tears rolling down pales cheeks.  She had never been hit before.  Whimpering, she leaned into the dark fur of the massive dog that was now next to her and began to sob.




    Sam shot up with a gasp, a hand flying to her wet cheeks.  Slowly, she began to come back to herself; wide eyes focusing on her surroundings.  She was on the floor for reasons she couldn’t quite remember and ‘Taker was holding her in his arms.  Meeting his dark gaze, her memories of what had happened came back.  Including the strange dream she’d had.  Or had it really been a past memory?  It had felt just a bit too real to just be a dream.  She could still feel the sting in her cheek.

    It was a callused hand on said cheek that brought her back to the present.  Looking up into worried, ebony eyes, she managed a weak smile.  “I think I just remembered something.  If I’m right, things certainly make a bit more sense,” she managed while her partner helped her into their shared coffin bed.  The curious glance she got prompted her to continue as she was laid into the soft interior.

    “I’m not sure any of this is really a good idea but here goes.  Does the name Celandine mean anything to you?” she asked, bracing for the worst.  She wasn’t disappointed.

    It was like she had poked him with a cattle prod.  He went board stiff, every muscle in his body tensing.  Recognition flashed in his dark orbs and he gave a slow nod, a small glimmer of hope beginning to dawn on his face.  Just seeing it made her wonder just how much he knew, how much he had been waiting for her to discover on her own.  “I... I think I recovered a memory from when I was her,” Samantha admitted.  This resulted in her lover immediately leaning down to capture her lips in a desperate embrace.

    This wasn’t just a kiss.  It was like their two past lives were meeting eachother once more.  It was achingly beautiful, causing tears to roll unconsciously down Sam’s cheeks.  Then he was slowly pulling away, eyes closed as he seemed to collect himself.  “Since you first touch the urn, my own memories have been slowly coming back,” whispered his soft baritone, his hands shaking slightly on his thighs.

    “Have you... been waiting for me to wake up?” came a quiet, sad question, deep guilt wrapping around Sam’s heart.

    Smiling slightly, the Dead Man opened his eyes and leaned down to place his forehead against hers.  “Very patiently.  It is not something you can control,” rumbled a gruff assurance as he cupped her cheek.  Leaning into the touch, she felt her libido begin to rise.  Kissing his palm, she felt her lust swell as a warm expression came into the man’s eyes.  Next thing she knew, both of them were divested of their clothing, the goateed warrior hovering one of her breasts.   Letting out a growl, he too one of her nipples into his cold mouth.

    Hissing, Sam arched into the contact; her hands going to his head to tangle in his ebony locks.  Like all the other times, his touch made her feel complete.  Now she knew why.   Moaning quietly, she leaned up to nip just under his ear; eliciting a feral noise in response.  Huffing against her sensitive skin, ‘Taker gave the sensitive skin a nip.  A small admonishment for her actions.  Then he was releasing her, kissing slowly down her body.  Meeting her gaze, he told her in his own way that he wanted to take his time.  That he wanted to savor it.

    Despite her own bruning need, Samantha nodded to show she would comply.  Smirking against the skin over her ribs, the reincarnated ferryman made his way toward her center.  By the time he reached her hidden mound, she was writhing with need.  Yet she bit her lip to keep in her pleas, her pale cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink.  Opening her to him, the wrestler took a moment to appreciate the sight.  Her womanhood was pert and pink, a bare dusting of pubic hair protecting the treasure from the elements.

    Carefully, he pulled open the outer lips to expose the weeping inside.  Shuddering while a gruff hiss left him, Undertaker took a moment to collect himself before giving his woman what she wanted.  The moment his tongue hit her skin, the taste was filling his mouth and there was a soft call of his name.  Humming against her, he laved her slowly; gradually drawing her to a slow but sweet orgasm.  Pulling away, he let out a gruff sound as he crawled up to cover her.

    Shuddering while pleasure still swam through her veins, Sam reached up to kiss him while he positioned himself at her eager entrance.  Kissing her neck, Undertaker slid in easily; the pair groaning in unison.  Then he was moving, their sounds intertwining while he rolled his hips slowly.  Leaning back so he could meet her eyes, the Phenom drank in to lust and love dancing within.  Arching up while her hands moved over his back, Samantha let out a cry of his true name.  Tensing slightly, the fighter’s breathing roughened for a few minutes before he began moving slightly faster.

    Bracing himself so he could watch her, the intimidating male kept his slow but satisfying pace.  Just watching what he was doing to this woman brought him closer to his peak.  Leaning down, he brushed his lips against her; kissing her with all the love he felt for her.  Then he was spilling into her, another sigh of his name whispering against his lips.  “I love you Archeron.  I love you,” Sam sighed, her heart swelling with the emotions currently running rampant within her.

    “And I you, my Celandine,” sighed a response before he was pulling free to lay beside her and pull her into his arms.  Nuzzling into his chest, the content femme closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

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