Unnatural Love

BY : FlameWolf
Category: WWF/WWE > Het - Male/Female
Dragon prints: 4335
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:  After a long absence, I have come back!  I hope you guys enjoy~



 

Chapter Nine:  Suspicions

 

    A dark figure leaned back in a leather chair, staring at the ceiling with a sour expression.  “Things keep getting more interesting.  Especially now that he’s given his urn to this girl,” rumbled a slightly angry voice.

“N-not only that, but he’s talking again,” whispered a reluctant reply, Paul Bearer looking up at Vince McMahon with an air of abject terror.

    The ‘Big Boss’ slowly straightened, getting to his feet and placing both hands on his desk.  His lips curled into a mixture of a snarl and a grin, meeting the much shorter man’s eyes.  “Good.  Now, go meet with Kane.  You’ll be working with him from now on and fueling the rivalry between the siblings,” hissed a command.  Nodding furiously, the overweight underling scampered out of the room as fast as his feet would allow.  Chuckling, Vince sat back down before spinning his chair around so he could stare out at the city.

    While he certainly hadn’t expected Undertaker to regain his memories, he had to admit it worked to his advantage.  If he allowed the pair to grow closer, it would make it all the more profitable when he tore them apart again.  Not only that, but he would have the pleasure of breaking the Phenom all over again.  He already had a plan for how he wanted it to happen, just the thought of it turning his chuckle into maniacal laughter.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Below~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

    Unaware of the plot evolving behind her back, Sam sat at the table in ‘Taker’s room with a thoughtful expression.  While it was possible Punk had lied to her, what he told her was beginning to make a frightening amount of sense.  Especially given the fact they never seemed to age and they never really seemed to take any lasting damage.  Mankind was a textbook example.  He should have been paralyzed when he was thrown headfirst into an announcers table from the top of a cage.  Yet he had gotten back up, climbed back to the top and got choke slammed through the roof for his troubles.

    Rubbing her face, she looked at her strange lover with an expression of consternation.  Just who was he?  Why was he so wildly different from the others?  Why was he the only one that actually appeared to be dead?  All these questions and not an answer in sight.  Some part of her wondered if she had been better off before Punk had given her just enough information to drive her nuts.  Of course, all of this was made worse by the fact she couldn’t share any of the information with ‘Taker.

    The only thing that helped her feel better about keeping such an important secret was the fact the Phenom seemed to instinctually know most of it.  In fact, he had steadily been regaining memories since they had met.  Though, the fact they seemed to share these memories only served to confuse her further.  Letting out a slow breath of frustration, she gave her silent partner a small smile.  “Sorry if I’ve been quiet.  I’m just... trying to figure all of this out.  Especially the connection you and I share,” sighed out of her while the fighter took a seat across from her.

    “It just... feels like I’ve always known you.  There was also that name I called you our first time making love.  A name I can’t remember but felt important at the time,” continued her strained voice while the man across from her simply stared at her with his normal, neutral expression.

    “Archeron,” came a reply so unexpected that she had no clue what he was talking about for a few moments.

    “Wh-what?” stammered out of her while her head tilted to one side quizzically.

    “The name.  It was Archeron,” the wrestler clarified simply, the corners of his mouth twitching ever so slightly at Sam’s consternation.

    “Well, that’s great!  Still doesn’t mean doodly squat to me!” the frustrated femme exclaimed, raising both hands theatrically before slumping backward with her head dangling over the back of the chair.

    Silence followed, seeming to stretch into eternity while ‘Taker simply observed her.  “Sorry.  I’m just so aggravated by the lack of answers.  All I get is more questions,” sighed a weary confession.  Azure eyes fixed on the ceiling as Sam heard the grit of boots on concrete.  Knowing the Phenom was getting up to offer her comfort, the overwrought female didn’t so much as twitch.  She simply didn’t have the energy.  Still, when her lover was standing over her with an odd look in his normally emotionless eyes, she couldn’t help but give a small smile.

    Large, callused hands came down to cup her cheeks while he continued to stare at her.  Giggling quietly, the young woman slowly sat up and turned to face her enigmatic partner.  Wrapping her arms around his waist, Samantha nuzzled into his rock hard belly with a content sigh.  “I’m alright, a bit stressed but alright,” hummed an assurance while one of his hands came to rest in her hair.  Inhaling ‘Taker’s unique scent, the dark haired femme couldn’t help but wonder why he had suddenly gone so quiet.

    It wasn’t that she wasn’t used to his silence after so long with him, it was just that he had been especially talkative today.  Then again, maybe that was why he was so silent now.  Being a man of little words, he had likely used up all his speaking credits for the week tonight.  Chuckling at the thought, the worn out woman let out a loud yawn.  It had been a long day and all she wanted was to curl up and sleep.  As if sensing this, ‘Taker scooped her up in his arms and laid her in his coffin bed.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~The Next Day~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

    It had been a long night of odd dreams and fragmented, half memories.  So, needless to say, Sam hadn’t gotten much real rest.  In fact, at around three a.m., she had simply given up and was staring at the ceiling until her undead lover began to stir.  If she was honest with herself, she wasn’t too sure how much more she could take without utterly losing her mind.  Sitting up when Undertaker did, she found her gaze travelling to the urn sitting on the table.  Last time she had touched it, it had caused a flash of what felt like more memories.  Maybe if she held it again, what she had seen before would be more clarified.  Maybe she would finally at least get one answer to her long list of questions.

    She was so focused on the metal object that she didn’t notice her lover had lifted her out of bed until her bare feet landed on the cold cobblestone.  Letting out a yelp, she leapt into the ‘Dead Man’s’ arms; giving him a rather grumpy look.  To her surprise, her normally expressionless lover let out a small chuckle; corners of his lips twitching into the barest facsimile of a smile. “That wasn’t funny,” she attempted to scold through her own smile, shaking her head as he slowly set her back down.  Carefully placing her bare feet on stone that felt like chunks of ice, Sam let out a low hiss of discomfort; shuddering as she made her way quickly to the table.  After all, the sooner she sat down, the sooner her feet could stop touching this torture device that called itself a floor.

    Practically leaping into a chair, she kept her eyes locked on the urn; almost reluctant to touch it.  There was just something about it.  Something sacred and more than a little scary.  Taking a deep breath for courage, the young woman reached for the small, funerary container.  The moment her palms met the smooth, cool surface, a jolt of electricity shot through her body.  Visions filled her eyes once more.  More detailed but no less confusing than the first time.  This time she could clearly see the man and the woman as well as the setting.  It almost looked like her and Undertaker were somewhere in Hell.  More confused than before and brewing a massive headache, Samantha released the urn.  “That didn’t get me any further than the first time,” hissed a bitter complaint while she brought her head down on the table with a resounding thud.

    ‘Taker simply stared down at her, expression a mixture of concern and amusement.  Taking a seat across from his beloved, the wrestler covered one of her hands with his own; waiting until she looked up to meet his gaze.  “This your way of telling me it’ll be okay if I don’t figure it all out right away?” the brunette sighed, giving a small smile before sitting back up.  To her surprise, his hand rose with her, coming up to cup her cheek as he leaned in to press unnaturally cold lips against hers.

    Returning the kiss while every muscle in her body relaxed, Sam couldn’t help but smile when he finally pulled away to allow her to breathe.  “Thanks,” whispered her slightly husky voice, darkened eyes looking up at her strange lover.  Letting out a low rumble in response, the large male leaned over the wood between them to give her a much more aggressive kiss.  Full of teeth, aggression, possession and absolute hunger.  Before she knew it, she was laying on the table while Undertaker was pressing her wrists into the hard maple.

    Despite how intimidating he was at the moment, she had never been more turned on in her life.  So, with a small hiss of her own, she leaned up to hite his neck; hard.  Hard enough that congealed, rotten tasting blood filled her mouth. Spitting the vile liquid out, she looked back up to see an entirely feral gaze staring down at her.  Before she could even take in a breath to speak, his mouth was over hers yet again; unpleasantly cold tongue plunging into her mouth the moment she gave access.  Yet, despite the unnerving sensations, she was moaning loudly; arching into his muscled body while he used a thick thigh to shove open her legs.

    Biting Sam’s lower lip with an animalistic snarl, the warrior reached down to fondle both her still clothed breasts while his upper leg rubbed mercilessly against her already heated core.  After an endless assault he was finally breaking away from her mouth with harsh pants, black having entirely taken over his eyes.  “Ssssaaaaaammm,” hissed out of him, sounding like it was coming from the deepest depths of Hell.  Yet, instead of being frightened, she kept meeting his eyes with a loving smile.  Nothing about him frightened her, especially since it was clear that he would never hurt her.

    Emboldened by her lack of repulsion, the supernatural male leaned down to replace his right hand with his corpse cold mouth.  Despite the fact it was over cloth, the sensation of his tongue drew a shuddering moan from her; hand flying up to grasp at his back.  With a low snarl, Undertaker ripped both their shirts off, as well as her bra; wasting no time in retaking her flesh in his maw.  Teeth and tongue equally tortured the sensitive node of flesh, drawing a sort of music from the woman below.  This was punctuated by animalistic snarls, the much larger male moving his hands to the waist of his lover’s pajama pants.  It was then that there were several bangs on the door.  In a flash, they were both dressed before the Phenom was opening the door; likely ready to murder whoever had interupted them.

    When the visitor was revealed to be Mankind, ‘Taker was lunging without asking questions.  While the pair were busy, Sam had picked up the precious urn; unsure of what was coming next and not wanting to take chances.  When she saw Kane poke his head in, she felt her heart drop.  Tightening her grip around the object in her arms, her head whirled with escape options while the hulking beast entered the room.  In seconds, she dashed so the table was between them, glaring at the muscle-bound male as he stomped his way to the furniture that was the only thing that kept him from his goal.

    She had one big advantage, Kane was slow due to his muscular frame.  So with a swift jerk toward the opposite direction to throw him off, she made a mad dash for the door.  Thankfully, Mankind was still engaged with her lover, giving her a chance to make for the stairs.  Panting loudly as her heart raced against her ribs, she could only pray there was help on the floor above.  To her immense relief, Sting was lounging around.  Almost as if he had sensed something bad was about to happen.  The moment he saw her panicked face, he was sweeping her behind him; glowering up at the masked man that had been in pursuit.

    Snarling between clenched teeth, the incensed fighter crossed the distance in two strides; Paul Bearer coming out of nowhere to stand at his side.  “Are you willing to risk your existence for her or that thing she loves?!  You know that Vince sent me to retrieve teh urn for him,” the piggy male spat, fury burning in his tiny eyes.

    “I will deal with the consequences of that later.  For now, don’t you have bigger problems?  You know Mankind won’t stay focused on ‘Taker for long,” the painted male pointed out, eyes flicking to the stairway.

    From below, a wild scream echoed up the stairs, a leather covered blur exploding out of the darkness to tackle Kane.  Eyes widening, Bearer waddled over to stop the fight as ‘Taker appeared at the top of the steps; dark eyes wild with fear and well as fury.  When he saw Sam behind Sting, some of the tension bled out of him.  With a stern glance to his rival, he moved to examine the cowering female.  Though she saw him, she appeared reluctant to move; like a rabbit trapped by a fox.  Placing a large hand behind her back, he began to gently coax her out in the open.

    The moment she was out of her hiding place, the spell over her had broken and she was rushing forward to nestle into the safety of Undertaker’s arms.  Silently, he held her close; glaring at the trio of men that had caused this.  Letting out a low rumble, the male straightened; placing a hand on Samantha’s left shoulder.  Sensing his glare, the overweight handler spun to face his ‘adopted son’.  “What makes her so special?!  Any of you other whores that got too close were given to Kane so why?!  Why give some... some slut the sacred urn when I have been its faithful keeper all these years!” he spat, stomping forward as he spoke; spittle flying from his black lips.

    “Who pulled you and your brother from that fire that killed your parents?!  Who made sure the urn was always near when you needed it?!  Is this the way you would treat the man who raised you?!  Who saw to your unique needs?!  Does she even know that you need...,” he ranted, only to be cut off by ‘Taker lifting him into the air via his neck.

    Without a word, the behemoth threw him to one side; sneering at the slime while Vince began to yell from a distance.  “Hey, who the fuck let Mankind out of his cage?  Who the fuck okay’d a fight without cameras?  Why the fuck haven’t you gotten that urn back!” demanded the Big Boss as he made his way forward, dark eyes glimmering with fury.  In seconds, the pair were separated, Hulk and Rock struggling with Mankind; both attempting to drag him back to his enclosure.  Grunting and becoming even more pale, Bearer got to his feet; avoiding the gaze of his boss.

    “I thought that if ‘Taker was distracted by Mankind that my Kane could...,” he tried to explain, only to be stopped by a motion of McMahon’s hand.

    Sneering at the shorter male like he was something found on the bottom of his shoe, the gray haired male leaned down so their eyes were on the same level.  “Did I tell you that you could release that neanderthal?  He’s near impossible to control.  Did you really think he could get the job done?!” he screamed before straightening and fixing his fury on the woman hiding behind the Phenom.  Then, like a switch being flipped, he smiled the way a father would toward his child.  Acting like she hadn’t just witnessed what happened, Vince made his way toward Sam.

    Halting a few feet from the protective man in front of her, he knelt; grinning like he was speaking with a child.  “You see, the thing you hold there is the reason our Undertaker is able to stay alive.  Everything that is him is tied to that urn.  While he may think its safe to give you such a thing, its much too important.  I can keep it safer, if you just give it to me,” murmured his baritone, his gaze holding an almost hypnotic quality.  In fact, despite what had just happened, Samantha found herself moving toward the man subconsciously.  Catching herself with a gasp, she immediately went back to her previous spot; heart racing at how close a call she’d had.

    “Thank you for your concern Mr. McMahon but I shall politely decline.  You see, I take Undertaker’s trust very seriously.  If he wants me to be in charge of something so precious, it must be for a good reason,” she retorted in a degradingly polite manner, happily flipping him the bird.

    For a quick second, rage overtook the manager; face turning an alarming red as he took a singular step toward the disrespectful femme.  It was only when the ‘Phenom’ also moved forward that he was snapped back to reality.  The man in front of him was not only invincible but extremely powerful.  It wouldn’t be worth the risk to challenge him.  Gritting his teeth, the furious megalomaniac settled for grabbing hold of the hapless Paul Bearer instead.  “Today, these two fight.  Get Kane ready and make sure he wins,” he hissed before dropping the other man and stepping over him.

    Having observed all of this, Sting moved over to ‘Taker and his lover.  “Shit man, for not causing a ripple for fuck knows how long; just finding a woman is causing all of this,” he commented quietly, eyes slightly moving toward Samantha.  The other fighter’s only response was a short snort through his nose, eyes firmly fixed on his ‘father’ and ‘brother’.  The woman behind him could only shake her head at his lack of response, having long ago gotten used to it.  Still, some part of her was a bit frustrated they likely wouldn’t finish what they had started earlier.

    Despite how harrowing recents events had been, she still found herself rather worked up from their earlier activities.  It was all she could do not to sneak back down stairs to take care of the left over tension between her legs.  A fact Sting seemed to notice, give the slightly raised brow he was giving her.  Blushing hotly, Sam cleared her throat as she stood on tip-toes to give her lover a kiss on the cheek.  “Good luck tonight,” she whispered before trying to go back to the flats of her feet.  Instead, she was swept into a pair of strong arms.  With a low snarl, he was taking her lips in a fierce kiss that told her just how much he needed her.  Then, slowly, he was placing her back on the ground, smirking at her while she swayed on her feet.

    Behind her, Kane was heaving Paul Bearer onto his shoulder; shooting the trio a murderous glower.  Huffing through his nose, he turned and made his way down the stairs.  While he had never gotten along with his brother, he had never expected the man to betray their own father.  All over a woman that had no damn business being here, let alone being in possession of the urn.  A woman that should have been tossed to him like all the others.  Lip lifting under his mask, the beast laid Bearer on his bed before heading to his training room.  Tonight, he would triumph against his brother for the first time.  Tonight, his brother would be put where he belongs.



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