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The Four Horsemen	By : Kodanikage Category: WWF/WWE > General Views: 1805 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the celebrities of WWE/WWF. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
A month and a half passed since Undertaker and Morte last spoke. Even in their’ now frequent shared dreams they didn’t speak, ignoring each others presences as best as they could. In that time the four horsemen had gained a measure of notoriety. Everyone was impressed with their’ confrontation with DX but the fact that Guerra could still manage to fight let alone win a match against Marc Mero after the beating Kane gave him really impressed a lot of people.

His sisters also made names for themselves. Viluppo became known as the most vicious diva to ever grace the women’s locker room by defeating Luna and Morte was quickly gaining popularity because of her back to back match against Jacqueline and a newly returned Sable. Morte won both matches without much challenge and was a very gracious victor never once bad mouthing her defeated opponents. Even the youngest of the horsemen Lue had managed to become know as quite the little businessman as he did a few ‘odd jobs’ for Commissioner Slaughter.

Yet to everyone’s surprise the four siblings made no other moves to further their’ carriers in the federation. They seemed content with slowly making their’ way up the ranks without really making any true impact, avoiding the drama normally associated with the WWF. Undertaker observed this all from afar as he and Morte generally avoided each other like the plague. The big man didn’t mind overly much as having more than his brothers emotions filtering through him was still discerning.

At the thought of Kane Undertaker sighed. There were rumors going around that Paul and Kane had a falling out. Normally he wouldn’t stake much in gossip but the Auburn haired man had no definitive answer because he could only sense his brother’s feelings not thoughts. ‘You could ask Abeebah’, he told himself and snorted. The young woman who was thrust quite unwillingly into his family drama was doing her best to ignore what was happening until a solution was found.

Undertaker seriously doubted if she would help gain insight to the condition of the fat man’s and Kane’s relationship. Undertaker sighed again as he laced up his boots, brooding over the situation wasn’t going to improve it no more than holding his breath waiting for Matilda to call him back about his ‘little problem’. The phenom quirked a half smirk half scowl at the thought of the old witch he had spoken to just over a month and a half ago.

Matilda had listened at great length to what he had to say and then empathically told Undertaker that she needed to do research and to not expect a call any time soon. She then hung up on him without another word. Vince had finally booked his match against Michaels a few weeks later. It was to be a grand affair at the next royal rumble. The heartbreak kid against the Undertaker for the world wrestling federation championship in a casket match the overly smug McMahon had told him a few weeks back.

The deadman didn’t care as long as he got his hands on Michaels throat than he was content. Standing from the bench he had been sitting at Undertaker rolled his shoulders back trying to loosen the knot that was stubbornly forming between his shoulder blades. He glanced at the clock above the door, his match would be soon. Leaving his locker room Undertaker made his way toward backstage only to catch the tail end of a Michaels interview on one of the monitors.

The degenerates had long ago healed from the beating they received from the horsemen; however Hunter was injured from defending his intercontinental title some weeks back. They were all surrounding Michael Cole Triple H included crutches and all. And listening to the bullshit spewing from HBK’s mouth Undertaker wasn’t surprised. The showstopper would need all the protection he could get once he got his hands on him. The auburn haired man growled almost thunderously toward an unfortunate stagehand to cue his entrance music.

‘No one fucks with my family’. Shawn smiled smugly at the camera, assured that the Undertaker would make an appearance after announcing to the entire world that Kane was joining D generation X. ‘And then’, but before he could complete the thought the lights turned off signaling the deadman’s entrance. Thunder and tooling bells sounded and purple lights illuminated throughout the arena. A chill like he only felt twice before settled in Shawn’s heart as he watched the Undertaker make his approach. It wasn’t as slowly eerie like normal.

Instead it was a barely controlled prowl of an incensed predator. And his focus was solely on him. Shawn suddenly didn’t feel so confident any more, not even with his entourage standing in the ring with him. However he refused to back down even as the 6’10 three hundred some odd pound man got up in his face with a thunderous expression on his face. Michael Cole raised his mic toward the phenom, “Now Michaels I would appreciate it if ya left my family out of this, this has nothing to do with my little brother Kane”. The show stopper smirked sure that he had gotten under the usually untouchable man’s skin.

If possible Undertaker got even closer the feral growl in his voice vibrating throughout his entire frame, “And if I was you I’d be worried about the royal rumble, the world wrestling federation title, and the Undertaker punching about a six inch hole right in the middle of your forehead”. Any and all smugness vanished from HBK’s face as just how pissed Undertaker was sunk in. Yet before any plans of hasty retreat could form in the young champion’s head the deadman’s hand was around his throat ready to chokeslam him to hell.

Chyna attacked him from behind distracting the big man just enough to let go of Michaels so he could get away. Cole made a hasty exit. Undertaker now had his hand around the ninth wonder of the world’s throat, with a snarl he stared down at her. And once again he was attacked from behind, this time by Triple H who hit him in the back with one of his crutches. Throwing Chyna to face one of her employers Undertaker went on the attack now too blinded by his cold fury to notice that he had been set up hook line and sinker for Michaels who went unnoticed by him until the showstopper had already kicked the taste out of his mouth.

Undertaker did his best to shake off the sudden sharp shooting pain along his jaw as he fell to the mat. Michaels didn’t let him get up. The younger man grabbed one of his fellow DX member’s fallen crutches and began to beat the big man down. Hunter soon joined him kicking and punching the downed giant without remorse or restraint as Chyna stood by and watched. Then the pyros on the ramp went off as Kane’s music began to play. He was coming.

The big red machine made his way toward the ring at a brisk pace his mismatched eyes fixed upon the diminutive man kneeling over his brother punching him. Kane could feel every stinging shot, could feel his brother’s festering temper and sudden helplessness as if it were his own. The big man silently wondered why he cared. Once again Kane was alone, Paul had thought to teach him another lessen by abandoning him a few weeks ago.

Yet the crimson demon didn’t trust anyone and he never lost sight of why he was in the WWF. He wanted his brother in pain, wanted him to suffer as he suffered didn’t he? However Kane couldn’t get over the sight of the juvenile fools doing harm to his older brother. So he would help Mark, but Kane would not stop his pursuit for revenge until he had it. The big man stepped over the top rope and made his way to where HBK was punching away at his brother’s face.

The showstopper’s back was toward him so he never saw him until Kane was already pulling the little man off the Undertaker by his hair. Chyna and Triple H tried to hit Kane with the crutches. It only distracted the big man long enough for their’ leader to get out of the chestnut haired demon’s grasp. Quickly all three of them got out the ring, knowing that they were out classed. Kane didn’t think twice about going after them. Then an idea seemed to take root in his mind, turning into a half formed plan by the time he was all the way up the ramp and DX had run backstage where he didn’t follow.

He turned to watch his brother recover with a deep breath. Inside the ring Undertaker stumbled to his feet, still in a daze at the beating he took at the hands of DX. The deadman recovered enough to see his younger sibling chase away his attackers and turn back to look at him. Confusion and hope blossomed in his otherwise cold heart as his gaze met Kane’s. His little brother ducked his head in a shy manner that was very out of place because of his stature and then Kane bowed on one knee, stretching forth his hand.

Undertaker’s breath caught in his throat as he gaped minutely at the sight before him. Disbelief and hope cooled the fires of Kane’s heart as his brother’s slightly wide eyes regarded him. Unlike so many times before Kane didn’t fight the feeling and instead sent tendrils of reassurance toward his older siblings frozen form. Undertaker sank to his knee bowing his head to hide the tears of joy that wanted to spill forth. He breathed in deeply a smile tugging at his lips, flinging back his hair the dead man returned his brother’s gesture much to the spectators delight. The pyros in the turnbuckles went off bathing the entire arena in ambient red light.

Kane’s music played and the big man got up and left. Undertaker would come to find him later. The deadman bowed his head, listening to the thunderous roar of the crowd around him. Usually Undertaker despised public displays of emotion. He had been taught the hard way that it was a weakness his entire life. A weakness that many wouldn’t think twice about exploiting, but at that moment Undertaker didn’t mind so much. Years of loneliness and guilt melted away from his heart. Everything wasn’t perfect or truly put to rights but at least Kane was giving him a chance. Undertaker got up and slipped out of the ring, he needed to talk to Morte.

In their’ locker room three of the four horsemen surrounding their’ eldest sister in a loose circle where she all but lay on the concrete floor. Abeebah was struggling to breath and had long since lifted her mask in the hopes to ease more air into her lungs. But it didn’t seem to work, Brandon who stood behind her tried to think of what to do. Getting one of the trainers crossed his mind several times but Abeebah’s lack of breath was sudden with no prior indication of difficulty.

He seriously doubted if this was caused by any physical problems because everything he could think of would have some warning signs. Evan and Delia were looked back and forth between their’ two elder siblings questions and worry flying across their’ faces. But Brandon didn’t know what to do and it was obvious that his younger brother and sister didn’t have a clue either.

Coughing hoarsely Abeebah spoke her voice a mere whisper, “Find Undertaker and tell him to get his dead ass here”. For a moment the three horsemen were still passing looks between each other before finally Delia silently slipped away from the circle they had formed around Abeebah, wordlessly accepting the task. She left without as much as a backwards glance.

It didn’t take long to find the big man as he was heading in the general direction of their’ locker room anyway. Angry, Delia told Undertaker quite succulently what her sister said word for word. The phenom stared down at Abeebah’s sister, taking in the girl’s obvious agitation. Undertaker couldn’t claim to know Viluppo but she didn’t seem to him like a woman that would get upset over nothing.

“What happened”? A plethora of emotions scrolled across the horsemen’s face, too quick to follow. “She collapsed”. Undertaker felt a twinge of guilt only to forcefully push it to the back of his mind. Abeebah obviously had succumbed to the intensity of his and his brother’s emotions. However there was no telling how much adverse effect their’ combined emotions would have if it continued.

But he wasn’t going to tell Viluppo that, especially standing in the middle of the hallway. It didn’t matter where the WWF went the halls would always have ears and something told him that this girl’s reaction would be vocal enough to probably wake the dead. Undertaker stared at the caramel skinned beauty wordlessly telling her to lead him to her sister.

Viluppo glared back balefully but led him to their’ locker room. By the time they got there Abeebah had recovered enough to be moved to the bench. As soon as they entered the locker room Viluppo made her way to her elder brother who stood up against the wall next to the lockers. Lue sat next to his older sister on the bench.

Their’ eyes were all trained on him. “He still hates you, you know”. Undertaker moved deeper into the locker room taking in how positively ashen the eldest horsemen was. Her usually clear mocking eyes were clouded over in confusion. She was shaking all over as if the very chill of the arctic had taken residence in her bones. Undertaker felt more disturbed by Abeebah’s state than he thought possible. “God he hates you so much that it makes his stomach turn, but he couldn’t-”. She closed her eyes with a shaky breath, “He couldn’t let them hurt you because as much as he hates you, he loves you too”. Moving even closer the phenom kneeled before her.

“Are you alright”, It was a stupid question and he acknowledged that as soon as he opened his mouth. Even though her gaze was unfocused and her emotions were still pale in comparison to his and Kane’s Undertaker could still see the irritation creeping its way into Abeebah’s ill visage. “No deadman I pretty fucking far from alright”, she all but hissed. He noted absently that her siblings seemed surprised by her display of temper. For a long time no one said anything. Finally Evan broke the silence, “What’s going on Beebs”. “Your sister had a case of sensory overload”.

Viluppo raised an eyebrow in question. “I’m assuming that you know of our”, Undertaker paused trying to find a word that best described their’ current situation besides problem. “Connection”, Abeebah supplied helpfully, “no matter how wrong on every level it is”, she continued not so helpfully. The auburn haired wrestler simply nodded, “Kane is giving me a chance, a slim chance but I’m willing if he is”.

Abeebah rolled her eyes heavenward, “You take his hand and he will take a knife and stick it right in your heart, he still hates you or weren’t you listening”. Undertaker looked her right in the eye, “But you said he loved me as well, I might be a fool for thinking that might be enough but I have to try”.

Abeebah couldn’t argue with that point because she knew she would be the same if it were one of her siblings. The phenom was obviously as emotionally exhausted as she and desperate to be reconciled with his brother. Cursing softly Abeebah turned her glare to an empty corner. “What about the lady you talked about”? Undertaker sighed silently in relief, thankful for the obvious subject change.

“I talked to her over a month ago she said that she wouldn’t have an answer any time soon”. Abeebah’s scowl deepened ominously but she didn’t speak. “And what’s to stop Beebs from having another episode”, a quiet growl escaped Brandon’s throat as he addressed the older wrestler.

Undertaker shrugged and fought the sheepish expression that wanted to take up residence on his face. “I can’t guarantee it won’t happen”, once again he paused trying to find the right words to say; “Kane and I are very emotional”. It hurt his pride to admit but Undertaker knew he owed Abeebah an answer to that question at least. And his sense of honor wouldn’t stand for anything less but what he felt was right.

He also knew that she wouldn’t see it as a weakness and wouldn’t tolerate her siblings trying to use it against him either. It was strange, confiding in someone after so many years of isolation. But speaking freely with Abeebah even in the presence of others felt right and right now he wasn’t going to question it.

“I don’t think it would be a good idea if you fight tonight then”, Brandon said turning attention to his elder sister. Undertaker raised an eyebrow at this. Abeebah was looking between each of her younger siblings Delia and Evan each in turn nodded in agreement with Brandon. If it had been him Undertaker would have told them to fuck off. But then again the dark haired woman had proved on more than one occasion that she was more level headed then most.

“I agree with you”, Abeebah said, “but I seriously doubt that McMahon is just going to let this slide”. “You haven’t lost a match yet so why wouldn’t he”, he youngest brother asked with a snarl. She regarded him calmly, “besides I can’t give a reasonable explanation for such an absence”.

Evan was quiet. Abeebah gave her brother a half hearted smirk, “I’ll be fine just watch your own asses cause something tells me I’ll be to busy dealing with my own problems to watch them for you”. Brandon sighed, “You’re not gonna let us help are you”. “No”, she replied without preamble. For a moment all three of her younger siblings harbored thoughts of getting involved anyway. But looking at the Undertaker kneeling before their’ sister, an unknowing protective gleam in his lime eyes they each decided against it.

However what really made them change their’ minds lay in the fact that neither Abeebah nor Undertaker noticed their’ fingers had somehow become intertwined. For their’ reticent sister to allow such a touch without repercussions was stunning to them. This bear of a man had done nothing to endear himself to their’ sister and the only thing they seemed to have in common was their’ current ‘problem’ yet they were touching each other as if it were the most natural thing in the world. None of them liked it but the big bad Undertaker was more than capable of taking care of Abeebah and unconsciously it seemed that she’d let him. So why fight it?

Surprisingly both Undertaker’s and Abeebah’s matches later that night went on without a hitch. DX made no appearance during either match and Abeebah’s relapse seemed to have little to no effect while she fought the woman’s champ Ivory in a non title match. The victory went to Abeebah automatically putting her in line for title contention. However when interviewed by Michael Cole about it the dark haired wrestler told him that she had no intention of going after the women’s championship.

Everyone including the phenom who was keeping an eye on her from the shadows was surprised. It was one of the greatest pinnacles in a wrestler’s carrier to receive a title shot and doing so with only a little over two months in the business under their’ belt was impressive. Undertaker himself did it in six months and considering her competition it was conceivable that Morte do it in less. When asked why not Morte succulently informed her interviewer that she was just looking for a good fight.

Undertaker quirked a half amused smirk at her answer, Abeebah was so wise even wiser than he in some ways but at that moment the young woman he had come to respect showed her innocence. Even though she had been in the WWF employ for a couple of months she hadn’t been dragged down into the drama nor thrown aside like so many wrestlers that came looking for success in the ‘circus’ as he was fond of calling it. Even her siblings called more attention to themselves.

Abeebah however didn’t seem to want anything to make her stand out that much. She wasn’t greedy or starved for attention and even though her victories were impressive Abeebah didn’t get arrogant nor attempt to cause a stir. However it was this very same trait that drew people in, himself included. The girl was an abnormality among the abnormal. Confident enough to not be considered weak and an easy stepping stone for other wrestlers yet humble enough to not be looked at as a threat by most. Such a contradicting blend of traits was fascinating to observe.
After the interview Abeebah returned to the horsemen locker room only to see her siblings were gone.

Why they had left she didn’t know because neither Brandon nor Delia’s matches were until later that night and Evan didn’t fight at all. Then Undertaker entered the locker room. “I though we concluded our business earlier”. Absently he noted her tone was dry and with her mask still hiding her features Abeebah’s stance was almost comical at how at odds with the imposing mysterious aura her ring attire seemed to give her.

Unperturbed the deadman took a seat on the bench and regarded her calmly, “you said so yourself, ignoring this is getting us nowhere and considering Matilda has yet to call we got nothing but time”. Abeebah twitched but didn’t disagree with his assessment of the situation. She took as seat next to him on the bench and raised an eyebrow. “Well then any ideas on why we’re”, she grimaced, “connected cause there’s no way in hell we’re related”. Mark frowned thoughtfully, “what do we have in common”?

“We both offed our parents, we both can sense our siblings, and we both have a serious dislike of DX and that’s about it”. The older wrestler’s frown deepened, “you were taken off guard when you had the overload, it was bound to happen before if you can sense all four”. Abeebah shrugged, “Think highlander sense old man not borg sense, I know they’re alive but I can’t sense where they are nor their’ state of mind”.

Mark snorted, “I’m not that old”. Raising her chin the younger wrestler smiled back toothily, “right”, she drawled. Feeling a rare moment of immaturity take hold he crossed his massive arms over his chest defensively, “I’m only thirty two”. “And I’m twenty which means yes Mark you are old”. Suddenly the phenom froze and then let out a chuckle as he finally realized what Abeebah was doing. “Are Kane’s emotions too stifling for you”, he asked. “Yes”, she tilted her head, “both of you are too intense, he’s too hot and you’re too cold”.

He shrugged, it wasn’t as if he could apologize for what he was. “We need to talk to Kane anyway so we might as well look for him now”, Undertaker said standing to his feet. Not for the first time Abeebah questioned the demon of Death Valley’s mental fortitude. The very idea that she would willingly get within fifty feet of the big red machine’s carcass was laughable. Seeing the look on her face Mark sighed, “I know you don’t trust him but we’re all in this together whether we like it or not”. “It’s not that I don’t trust him, it’s the fact that I do even though I have every reason not to”, she retorted.

The deadman hummed in the back of his throat, “I see your point but isn’t the same between us, we have many reasons not to trust each other but we do despite the fact”. Abeebah glared, “you haven’t beaten my brother bloody and you don’t have access to my thoughts”. Again Mark had to concede to her point. Kane had proven volatile at best and it was obvious that he could feel Abeebah as much as she could feel him.

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that the big red machine went after her because of this. He had done much the same thing, only he didn’t attack Abeebah’s younger siblings. Undertaker felt a twinge of disappointment at his brother’s behavior but couldn’t really find it in himself to truly be angry.

He held out his hand. Mark sighed, “Please”, it felt as if he were going to choke on the word but somehow managed to say it without faltering. For a moment Abeebah merely stared at the outstretched appendage. She had no reason to trust this man or his brother. But her heart, so normally quiet that it was still was screaming at her to do so. Unable to ignore its call the dark haired youth took hold of the older wrestlers hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet and out of the locker room.

Undertaker led his companion through the shadows of the arena hand in hand. They were like silent wraiths among the backstage crew that all of them saw but none acknowledged because there was no way that they couldn’t see the deadman holding her hand as they walked through the halls. Or at least that’s what Abeebah thought. A 6’10 man shouldn’t be able to do what he was doing what he was doing right now. How could someone like the Undertaker go unnoticed when his mere presence sent the bravest of men into fits of terror was beyond Abeebah.

Surprisingly it didn’t take long to find Kane who had seemingly been waiting for them in an out of way corner near the stadium boiler room. As soon as Undertaker let go of her hand Abeebah stepped behind him and out of Kane’s immediate line of sight. It didn’t matter, he already knew she was there but his attention was solely focused on his older brother.

Moving forward the chestnut haired man looked Undertaker in the eye. Mark stared back searching Kane’s eyes just as his brother was doing the same to him. Finally seemingly finding whatever he was looking for Kane turned his attention to Abeebah. Stepping aside the phenom grasped at her hand to stop Abeebah from backing away.

She glared at him only for her attention to be once again focused on Kane moments later when the crimson demon touched her throat with his ungloved hand. ‘Hello little one’. A litany of mental curses answered him but Abeebah made no move to dislodge his hand as it gripped the back of her neck. Mark looked back and forth between his younger brother and temporary ally confused by the strange mixture of emotions coming off the two in waves. Kane seemed to be amused/curious while Abeebah was relaxed yet somehow agitated at the same time.

Kane become relaxed before his very eyes and almost child-like as he explored the woman’s face with his mismatched gaze. Abeebah looked calm under the big man’s touch but both he and his brother could feel her uneasiness with her own comfort. Neither of them could really blame her even though Kane made no move to release Abeebah. “We found him now what”, the hazel eyed woman’s voice was strained in her discomfort.

Both brothers ignored it, “We talk”. The dark beauty rolled her eyes, “I can’t read your mind so you’re gonna have to be more specific old man”. Mark froze; it wasn’t like he could ask his brother what he’d been doing for the last twenty years. Kane glanced at his brother and to then Abeebah, ‘speak for me’, at her incredulous look Kane like his brother sighed, ‘please’. Knowing that asking for help was even harder for Kane than even his head strong brother Abeebah nodded. “Kane says this might work better if we were all asleep”.

The deadman raised an eyebrow at Abeebah’s becoming an improve translator. “I thought of it but I’m not sure if all three of us could do that”. His brother tilted his head toward him, “he says we should try anyway and F.Y.I. I agree with him”. Undertaker frowned thoughtfully before nodding. They needed to explore the limitations of this ‘link’ and they might find at least some answers inside their’ minds.

“My room is 31-E be there at midnight”. Finally letting go of Abeebah with a pat on her head Kane grunted his agreement. The eldest of the horsemen cast a mild glare at Kane’s retreating form before casting an only slightly less recriminating look in his brother’s direction. “You two need a serious talking”.

Undertaker turned away from the younger wrestler, once again caught off guard by her insightfulness without the benefit of actually being able to read his thoughts. He didn’t speak knowing that there really wasn’t anything he could say. It annoyed her Mark knew but he wasn’t going to budge. Seeing she wasn’t going to get anywhere Abeebah abandoned the phenom to his own thoughts.

She wanted to find her siblings anyway and question them on exactly why they had left the locker room and essentially alone with the Undertaker. She returned the horsemen’s locker room and taking a shower changed into her street clothes. Evan was the first to return to the locker room.

It was his idea for them to leave her with the Undertaker in the first place and he told his sister so honestly. However the youngest of the horsemen refused to inform his eldest sibling ‘why’ and even went so far as to tell her not to even venture to ask Brandon and Delia as she wouldn’t find them. On one level Abeebah was proud of youngest brother’s clever scheme and the fact that for the first time in a long time he was the ringleader in a plan but on another level Abeebah was royally pissed that the plan was set against her. Scowling she told Evan that she would be disappearing for the night as well and not to wait up. Abeebah then left, set on killing some time before she had to meet Kane and Undertaker at the appointed time.

Meanwhile Undertaker two had left the arena and went back to the hotel that Vince rented for the wrestlers to stay. Not many of the wrestlers had returned for the night but he only garnered miner looks as he made his way to his room his gym bag in hand. The phenom spotted Abeebah heading to the pool but said nothing sensing the youth’s stinging irritation.

She obviously wanted to be left alone and the deadman wasn’t willing to test her hairline temper. He went to his room and occupied his time watching Raw and ignoring the play of emotions in the back of his mind. Much later Kane had arrived and Undertaker let him in without a word. His younger brother was dressed discreetly in long gray sweats. Kane’s face was rapped in bandages.

Mark thought he looked like a mummy from one the old black and white fifties movies. However the younger Calloway’s left hand was bare and Undertaker could see the scars standing out starkly against his pale skin. Not for the first time Mark felt quilt burn lacerations into his heart. The big red machine tilted his head in silent greeting and before walking over and sitting on the bed, letting his brother momentarily drown in his suffering. He still hadn’t forgiven Mark and was determined to keep that grudge until he felt satisfied with a measure of revenge.

However Mark’s dark mood was postponed when Abeebah arrived moments later a bland look on her face. Kane turned his attention from his brother to the slip of a woman who had captured his interest with her ability not only to sense his emotions but also his thoughts. Abeebah like the brothers was dressed discreetly yet stylishly in plain black pajama bottoms and navy blue wife beater. Her damp locks were pulled back into a loose braid that swung lazily behind her like an alley cat.

‘Hello little one’. Wary irritation mingled with amusement, ‘Hello big fella’. Under the bandages Glen’s eyebrows shot up. This cat had claws. ‘You’re not afraid of me are you’? The crimson demon didn’t know why but Abeebah’s lack of motive or fear toward him intrigued him. Abeebah rolled her eyes and spoke allowed for Mark’s benefit, “only a fool would not fear you and I am no fool by any stretch of the imagination”.

Catching on the phenom glanced her way before taking a seat next to his brother. “The real question is whether or not you trust us enough to sleep in our presence and have us in your mind”. Abeebah crossed her arms under her breast watching the two giants through half lidded eyes. “What do you have in mind”?

Mark glanced at his younger brother before moving further up the bed so that he had to curl himself over to fit completely, “just to talk”. The dark woman-child stared at the brothers. Many would call both of them simple monsters, Kane with his appetite for revenge and Undertaker with his ceaseless angst and thirst for destruction. But both were much more complex than anyone would ever know.

Both were manipulative to a degree that she wasn’t comfortable with and both were willing and able to do more their’ fair share of havoc just because they could. Yet she trusted them both because she saw the men behind the monsters. She saw the gruff yet honorable friend in Mark and the gentle giant in Glen.

Abeebah tried to reconcile the two sets of contrasting personalities in her head. The eldest horsemen’s nostrils flared wit an explosive breath. They were on her side for the moment rendering these points mot. There was no way to truly understand them and Abeebah had little reason to try when she had trouble understanding herself. So reluctantly the younger joined them on the bed which was almost too small for their’ combined bulk.

She lay in between them facing away from Mark and her face studiously focused on Glen’s wrapped throat. The brothers curved their’ prodigious forms around the little woman and relaxing as best they could. Against her will Abeebah relaxed as well and was sound asleep a few minutes later.

Dream

Mark opened his eyes and was surprised to see that instead of the dark never ending plains of his own mind were not there. Instead he was greeted with the sight of a room made of ice and furnished in steel. Abeebah sat in a high winged back chair in the center of the room garbed in the white dress he was long familiar with. Mark didn’t have to look down to know that he was dressed in black robes and his hair had turned to its natural flaming red color. “Mark”, the big man turned only to see his brother standing a few feet away.

Only his brother wasn’t a fully grown man and instead of the masked face glaring down at him Mark stared down at Glen who somehow was transformed into his ten year old self baggy old hand me downs and all. The youngest Calloway had shrunk a good three feet with his once very defined muscles becoming gangly limbs of a budding soon to be teenager and his once long luscious locks were now a curly mop on the top of his head. Bemused and nostalgic the phenom quirked a miniscule smile at the now little red machine.

Glen didn’t smile back even as he joined his brother at the center of the room with Abeebah. The young woman’s cat like eyes roved over her surroundings before they fixed upon the brother’s with an amused quirk of her brow. “I’m guessing this isn’t either of your minds”, she said dryly. Mark seated himself on the floor crossing his legs Indian style, “no”.

Glen remained standing, “no”. The dark woman made a curious noise in the back of her throat as she looked around. “So this is my mind then, who ever thought I’d be so organized”. The two brother’s glanced around in their’ own assessment and found organized to be a rather fitting description. The few things that were in the room each had a space to which it meticulously occupied without a hint of clutter or misplacement.

It was disturbingly clean to the Undertaker who had been in the minds of many and none of them were this orderly. “Every representation of a person’s mind is unique according to the individual it inhabits but one thing all minds have in common is clutter”, he lectured automatically. Abeebah raised a dark brow, “Well I don’t see any so what does that mean”?

“You’re focused”, he explained, “So focused in fact that all your thoughts have a purpose, no stray thought, no wandering ideas nothing”. Abeebah frowned, “you’re mind didn’t have any stray thoughts”. “The mist”. She gave an “ahhh”, of understanding thinking about the occasional puff of air that blew past them when they dreamed together in his mind.

Glen’s mismatched eyes glanced between them not quite ready to contribute to the conversation. “Well I suppose it could be worse”, Abeebah said trying to fill in the uncomfortable silence. “Yes it could be but I’m no expert”, shrugged Mark. Irritation with a hint of wariness invaded his senses. He didn’t try to reassure her.

“I could mean nothing considering you’re still alive and sane”, Glen finally spoke his voice still the same even though he had a child’s body. ‘Creepy’, “Alive yes, sane, well that I’m not so sure about”, she informed him only half joking.

Mark shot a glance toward his brother, he didn’t think that Bearer would even educate his brother on the basics of mind magic. Seeing the look Glen shrugged, “he liked to run his mouth”, was his only explanation. His older brother made an agreeing noise in the back of his throat. “So any clues as to how we’re connected cause we sure as hell don’t have anything in common in here”, Abeebah pointed to her temple. “Maybe it’s because we’re all different”, Glen suggested, “my mind is, chaotic, and there is stillness to both your minds”. Abeebah frowned, “but Mark has a similar mind to me in terms of stillness”.

“But different as day is to night in everything else”, Mark agreed with his brother. “My mind is dark and seemingly endless with fields of ice while yours is cold but almost sterile in its stillness my darkness conceals and has a movement all its own”. Abeebah rolled her eyes, “very poetic dead man”.

Mark sent her a sly smile, “I like to think so”. Glen nearly childishly gagged at the two of them. “So bottom line, we have an idea but basically have no other way besides your friend to confirm if it’s right or not”, said Abeebah. Mark grimaced, “yeah pretty much”.

For a moment Abeebah said nothing. She just stared at the two brothers processing what little she knew and what questions still had yet to be answered. Now that she thought about it all they could really do was speculate. ‘But then again we’ve been waiting for answers for so long it’s better than doing nothing’. The dark wrestler sighed, “Care to make anymore hypothesis while we’re at it”?

Both the Calloway brother’s blinked at the especially long winded statement that came out of the seemingly tired woman’s mouth. “I think we’re not going to find anything more tonight than we already have”, Glen said hesitantly. Abeebah shrugged and relaxed into the high backed chair, “yeah, I’m all for the idea of sleep right now anyway”.

End dream

The next few days found Abeebah getting closer to the two brothers. Inside the arenas where they worked they stayed away from each other for obvious reasons. Mainly both Mark and Glen’s enemies would love to get their’ hands on either of the big men weakness and the darkest horseman was established enough yet to be able to ward off so many.

Abeebah went back to wrestling as a part of the four horsemen and the brothers went back to fighting in their’ own matches, keeping the status of their’ ‘reconciliation’ quiet. It really wasn’t anybody else’s business whether Kane and Taker were having family problems or not.

It never stopped the interviewers from asking but they the only answer they got was a threatening look from the phenom and a growl from the big read machine. For their’ part the three younger horsemen got used to the Calloway addition to some of their daily routines. Mark even helped Evan with homework that Abeebah assigned him as he was homeschooled with their’ constant moving. And despite their’ rocky start both Kane and Brandon found a quiet companion in each other. They had a shared passion for books and would read and analyze the small collection Brandon had for hours.

Matilda Walker was old, not physically for years of magic and rituals had gifted the witch with a body of a thirty something year old. But mentally and spiritually Matilda was older than most and would do just about anything to entertain herself. So when Paul Bearer had called in a favor from her Matilda hadn’t thought twice about granting the manipulative petty man what he wanted.

She had no idea the fat bastard’s favor included practically raising a twelve year old almost lifeless boy. The old witch wasn’t moralistic by any stretch of the imagination and could account for every sin she ever committed against humankind and nature. But children were where she drew the line; never had she ever done wrong by a child and she took pride in that.

And then Paul, the sleaze that he was, brought her “deadman” as he called the green eyed boy back then. Oh how the near skeletal boy fit his name so perfectly with his pale skin and near dead eyes. Deadman rarely spoke and when he did it was a breath away from being a whisper. Worst of all was the compulsion charms she had sensed as soon as deadman entered her house. The fat bastard had turned the child into little more than his personal slave and nearly broke him in the most fundamental of ways.

And there was no way to break the charm without killing him. “Educate him”, the pitiful excuse of a waste of space had said before leaving deadman with her. So she did, Matilda taught the boy as much as she could think of and more while dropping a few hints here and there to weaken Bearer’s hold on deadman. Matilda had only hoped it was enough once the boy was out of her care.

And here she was year’s later finding out that it turned out that her plan worked only years after the fact. Deadman had broken ties with Bearer only a few months ago and then to top it off he wasn’t the only child Bearer had turned into a slave. Deadman’s little brother had been enslaved as well.

To make matters worse the boy had thought his brother dead years along with their’ parents. And to make things even more complicated they were both bonded to the same girl and said girl was bonded to both of them in a trinity. And this type of trinity had nothing to do with Christianity and everything to do with the marriage or bonding of souls.

“Stupid boy”, she muttered fondly as she regarded the tome she had gone to great lengths to retrieve in order to solve her former pupil’s dilemma. Matrimonium Consisto Animus was a very exotic, very rare account to come by. It had taken Matilda calling in a few favors and flat out threatening just to borrow it.

Why? Because it was the only tome ever written that had a full and detailed account on trinity soul bound matrimony in the last few thousand years. Matilda snorted it was ridiculously difficult to find out anything these days without setting off some kind of red alert with one cult or another. Sitting behind her opulent eighteenth century desk Matilda opened the volume and methodically translated the Latinized document to English in her head.

It took only two hours to read the entire thing and by the time she was finished Matilda was ready to laugh a lung out. Deadman had gotten himself into a truly interesting situation. Without hesitation the old witch picked, she had a few calls to make before she talked to her former pupil again.

In Boston Massachusetts Glen, Mark, and Abeebah had gone out to lunch together. The WWF had been there for the better part of a week and were headed to Cambridge the following week. So while preparation for all the WWF’s equipment to be moved were being made all the wrestlers enjoyed a few days off. Abeebah and her two ‘friends’ were having a meal in a small out of the way coffee shop near the bay. It was a quiet affair with all three of them dressed inconspicuously so as not to draw attention to themselves even though the Calloway brothers’ stature, Kane’s bandaged face and Abeebah’s impressive scar garnered the occasional look anyway.

And then one of the waiter’s called out, “Is there someone here that goes by Deadman”. Abeebah raised an eyebrow, “do I even want to know”? “Matilda”, was all Mark said standing to his feet and taking the call. Abeebah shook her head and turned her attention back to her clam strips. Glen sat across from her and watched his brother’s visage as he spoke to the old witch that was supposed to have the answers to their’ mysterious connection. Per usual his features were immobile even though Glen could feel the interest and annoyance waft off his older brother. ‘What do you think they’re say’n’?

He didn’t even glance Abeebah’s way now long used to her lilting voice floating inside his head. It was much more pleasant than the utter emptiness that he had grown used to over the years. ‘He’s annoyed so whatever it is can’t be good’. An affirming tug at the back of their’ minds told them that the deadman could sense their’ silent conversation. Before they could speculate on it any further Mark returned and threw down a few bills on the table, “we’re going to New Orleans”. Both of them were incredulous, “Now”? The phenom took hold of Abeebah’s hand without thought and pulled her to her feet. Kane rose as well and moved to follow them out the door.

“The faster we get there the faster we can get to Cambridge without McMahon noticing we were even unaccounted for”, Mark said letting go of her hand as they made their’ way back to the hotel. “I’ll get us tickets, be ready when I call”, he drawled once they had arrived. Abeebah scowled at Kane’s older brother but then left to pack and leave a note for her siblings. The big red machine followed Mark to their’ now shared room where Mark preceded to place a call to the local Airport while packing a few of his belongs at the same time. Glen did the same, the rest of their’ possessions would be left for the PR committee to take care of.

And hour later the three of them were on a plane to New York where they would get off and take another plane to New Orleans a few hours later. Undertaker, Kane, and Morte arrived in New Orleans early the next morning. Tiredly the elder Calloway hailed a cab and gave directions to the driver to Matilda’s residence. As soon as they arrived Abeebah was taken aback by the finery of the old French manor. “Now remember two things”, Mark glanced back and forth between Glen’s masked face and Abeebah’s scared one, “names have power here so don’t call each other by ya’ real ones and play nice, comprende”? Both of them rolled their’ eyes.

They walked up to the prominent front doors and without having to knock the door opened and without hesitation Undertaker walked inside. His little brother and Abeebah followed behind warily. She had expected it to be dark creepy even under the veneer of charm and opulence but there were no unexplained dark corners or seemingly constant creeks that would mark of a supernatural house.

Instead Matilda’s house seemed to be a respectable property that had all the warm colors the French quarter. Undertaker led them to a study where a small group of people were there waiting for them. As soon as they entered the petite woman stood from her seat behind the solid oak desk to greet them.

True to his own advice the deadman was polite and gave the woman Abeebah and Glen’s ring names instead of their real names. Matilda was younger than what Abeebah expected considering she according to Mark practically raised him but Abeebah wasn’t here to judge. However it was hard to not speculate with the woman’s waist length dark blond hair and full youthful face. The others were introduced in the same courteous fashion as she and Glen if a little bit less curt.

Apparently their’ situation needed a little more help than expected. The gray eyed witch straightened her spine, “I’ve invited the Masters Geduld, Aansien, Wysheid, and the Mistresses Ar, and Terra in order to assist in solving your dilemma”. Undertaker inclined his head in a ghost of a bow and replied in the same formal way. “Our sincerest thanks to all of you”. ‘What the hell’, it was almost impossible not to smile when she heard Kane echoing her sentiment mentally. Matilda waved her hand and their’ bags disappeared and lavish chairs appeared behind each of them.

Abeebah and Kane stiffened not used to such easy show of magic the former not at all. However seeing Mark easily take a seat along with the others put them at enough ease to do the same. “Now that we are all accommodated I will tell you exactly what is going on”.

Had Matilda any glasses Abeebah was sure that she would be cleaning them. “First, deadman do you remember when you first came to me just how reliant you were on Paul Bearer”. “Yes”, Kane didn’t even flinch as the glacial fury of his brother doused some of the burning sensation of his constant rage.

“Bearer is not the most adept of magician but if there was one art he was master of it was compulsion”, Matilda said ignoring Undertaker’s tone. Shock and fury turned Mark’s feature’s ugly and his already natural pallor a sickly chalk white. Kane too was still, not just physically but mentally as well, frightening Abeebah more than she cared to admit.

“What did he do”, she asked the witch trying to distract herself. The gray eyed witch looked the slightest more grave, “all he did was suggest, but a suggestion can be a whisper in someone’s ear or a scream in someone’s head”. “The compulsion placed on these two was the later to an extreme that broke them in such a way their’ powers manifested themselves in the most extreme way possible”.

Matilda tilted her head toward the younger of the two Calloways, “Kane still has whatever compulsion Bearer put in him and Deadman is experiencing it through the bond”. Abeebah nodded slowly she had a very good idea on what compulsion the fat bastard put on the big red machine, “then why it isn’t affecting me”? Master Wysheid spoke up as Matilda nodded toward him, “that has everything to do with your power Princess Morte, you are an elemental”.

“Elementals are just as they sound beings sensitive to nature, some even have minuscule control over an element but what you three are is legendary among us Elementals”. The eldest horseman was almost distracted by the title the man attached to her ring name. “Why does something tell me I’m going to regret even asking what’s so special about us”, Abeebah asked. Waking up from his livid stupor Mark sent his dark companion a look.

Abeebah ignored him in favor of boring holes in the priest’s head with her eyes. Almost submissively Wysheid dropped his eyes, “Not only are you three each bi-elementally gifted you are a trinity”. ‘A what’, Abeebah repeated Glen’s question allowed without missing a beat. “Soul bonded, your souls are mated for lack of a better term”, this time Ar spoke. “And you are sensitive toward two elements you might even be able to control them”, said Terra. Rubbing her temples the dark wrestler sighed, “right, now how does that stop me from becoming like them”, she pointed to the brothers.

Neither Mark nor Glen was particularly insulted knowing the petite woman was just as frustrated as they were. “I can detect an elemental’s infinity and one of your elements is metal”, Geduld explained, “the other is ice the combination of these two elements creates an almost unnaturally focused individual”. ‘No stray thoughts’. “So Bearer can’t influence her”? Mark sounded almost hopeful. Matilda shook her head, “not the way he got to you two it’d be like throwing a pebble at fort Knox”. Abeebah narrowed her eyes, “what’s the catch”.

Matilda looked mildly put off, “I can’t take the compulsion off without probably doing more damage, when Deadman was under compulsion years ago I tried to plant distrust against Bearer in the hopes he could break out of it himself”. “Instead the compulsion stayed until whatever he specified was done”, Mark finished bitterly.

The witch now looked stern, “you aren’t the first and most definitely aren’t going to be the last so long as he exists”. Abeebah was sure that she never wanted to kill someone so badly. The dirty blond cleared her throat, “That being said it brings us to the next point the three of you are broken in a way that no human being could ever survive alone”.

“That is why your bond is so strong and revered by Elementals”, Ar continued, “you are royalty among our kind for such strength and sensitivity of your nature is held in the highest esteem”. The priest looked uncomfortably at each other, “but your bond is incomplete”, the last of the priest Aansien explained finally.

Abruptly Abeebah’s thought process ground to a halt in order not to go on to the next forgone conclusion. “Deadman, Kane, Morte, your souls and minds are mated but your bodies are not”, Matilda informed them not in the least bit balked by the idea of provoking their’ ire. For a moment none of them moved, each with their’ own thoughts and fears coming to the forefront of their’ minds. ‘Is there no other way’, asked Glen and faithfully Abeebah repeated his question out loud.

Matilda genuinely looked apologetic, “I’m afraid not, it might take years for it to finally deteriorate completely but when it does the bond will snap and the backlash will in all likelihood kill all of you”. Then Mark spoke, “can you give us a minute”? The priest stood to their’ feet and bowed, “we must prepare your marriage bed for the proper blessings and protection spells be ready by tonight your majesties”, Aansien said sternly but not unkindly.

Matilda stood to her feet as well, “you know where your room is Mark theirs’ is across from yours so rest up”. The small entourage left the study leaving the three of them alone. “Kane”. ‘I don’t care either way, I fear nothing’, thought Glen knowing that Abeebah would translate. ‘Everyone fears something’, she thought back Abeebah however did relay to the phenom what his brother said. “What about you”? “I want to live”, she replied simply.

The Texan gave her a sad half smile, “me too girly me too”. Once again Undertaker stood and led them through the manor. He led them up the stairs and to the second floor where there were many ornate doors. The demon of death valley silently indicated the rooms across from his. They were all glad to have separate rooms even for a little while.

All of them needed time to process what had just occurred and the answers they had just received. None of them could really find very much rest as they lay in their’ beds thinking about what they were going to have to do to survive. Mark wasn’t too concerned about the having sex requirement of the deal as he was the having sex with his brother and closest thing he had to a sister part.

And then there was the compulsion issue, would the bond stop the compulsion or would it only strengthen it. Would he and his brother end up killing each other one day? All these questions Matilda didn’t answer and most likely had no answer for him made Mark angry and afraid all at the same time. Kane too lay in his bed confused and betrayed on many levels.

The big red machine knew that Bearer had been using him, knew that that he was being manipulated. But never ever had he thought that his feelings were not his own. And then there was Bearer’s manipulation of his brother, there was no doubt now that Undertaker wasn’t completely to blame for his suffering. And most likely, like so many times before the fat bastard twisted his words and veiled his intentions until his weave had already been spun and Mark already caught in his trap. Yet Kane could not stop hating him, could not completely undue years of reinforcement and now that he knew it compulsion from dictated what he thought. Glen chuckled darkly; this was the hell he found himself in with no way out.

Hours later the sun had set much to the brothers’ and Abeebah’s wary chagrin and they reluctantly rose from their’ beds. Each of them found a robe outside their’ door with archaic symbols stitched into the fabric and a note telling them to go to the basement. Gritting her teeth Abeebah changed into the robe and did as the note instructed while the Calloway brothers lagged behind. The priest had drawn a gold multilayered circle around a king sized bed shrouded in black raw silk. They were chanting in some forgotten language that Abeebah didn’t understand. Then Ar looked up, “Enter princess Morte beloved of metal and frost”. Knowing better than to question the woman, Abeebah got into the bed.

Abeebah backed herself up against the headboard of the bed as darkness fell around her. She could still hear the chanting of the pagan priest filtered through the barrier of the heavy silk drapes surrounding her ‘marriage bed’. She was glad they weren’t able to see her but it did little to stop the hammering of her heart against her ribcage. Drawing the dark sheets up to cover her naked breast Abeebah tried to calm down. ‘It shouldn’t be such a big deal’, she scowled herself, ‘you’re only sleeping with them and it isn’t like the marriage will really mean anything’.

It was a lie and Abeebah knew it. Against her will both Glen and Mark earned a place in her heart and a measure of trust that she rarely gave anyone. The idea that she trusted them enough to let them to do ‘this’ was what had Abeebah spooked. She barely knew either of them and what she did know was not endearing on any level. ‘Really Abeebah, I’m hurt’. Kane’s smokey voice echoed through her mind in a comforting caress. The dark skinned women-child sighed at the teasing yet truthful feeling she was getting from the mentally disturbed young man.

‘Don’t be’, she replied, ‘I’m here aren’t I’. ‘Against you’re will’, he echoed her earlier thought. Visibly Abeebah winced, sometimes she forgot that Kane didn’t distance himself from his emotions like she and Undertaker did. ‘Remember when I said that everyone has a fear’, a wave of agreement washed over her, ‘well this is mine, I fear intimacy’. A “what” worthy of the rattle snake himself surged across their’ link like a livewire. Once again Abeebah sighed, ‘I’m one of those ‘chaste’ virgins, never been kissed, had a boyfriend, or fooled around, happy now’?

‘So you nev-’. ‘No’, Abeebah interrupted him not wanted to hear what he had in mind. She didn’t want to think about such things considering what was going to occur. She was surprised when she didn’t feel amusement seep into her mind and instead sympathy embraced her. ‘Me either’. Abeebah wasn’t surprised but thanked him for admitting it anyway, ‘Guess the old man will be teaching us both tonight’. A double wave of reassurance blanketed her. Abeebah bowed her head and enjoyed the comfort that was slowly seeping into her skin whiled it lasted.

She didn’t even look up as the brothers drew back the curtains so they could enter. The bed dipped under their’ combined weight as both Mark and Glen crawled inside. The curtains fell shut behind them and both removed the robes they were given earlier. Abeebah didn’t look up. Mark wasn’t self-conscious at all as he shed his robe knowing that his body was attractive scars from years of physical labor and all. Glen removed his mask with shaking hands feeling the heavy leather of the straps give under his deft hands the dark haired young man bowed his head reflexively. Mark and Abeebah looked at him feeling Glen’s apprehension. The older brother looked at their’ ‘bride’ questioningly.

Abeebah’s voice for the first time in a long time trembled with emotion, “he said that if I can face my fears than so could he”. “You’re nervous about this”? Like Glen Abeebah ducked her head, “I’m terrified of this”, she admitted softly. He looked back and forth between the two of them not really sure how to reassure either of them. This was new territory for the phenom too; he had slept with experienced partners but never ones so new to idea of intimacy let alone sex.

Thinking for a moment Mark reached out to his brother’s face and ran his fingertips along Glen’s jaw. He flinched but didn’t move away from his brother’s touch as Mark continued to map out his features by hand. The slightly older man’s fingertips danced lightly over the intricate web of scars across his brother’s face taking in each one as if it were the finest piece of art displayed in a museum. Glen exhaled shakily and raised his head to look his brother in the eye. Mark watched his features become revealed to him silently.

His skin was even paler than Mark, mismatched eyes slightly sunken in his skull and barely noticeable scars adding a rugged edge to his otherwise unmolested features. Mark could only see the beauty of his brother’s soul burning in his gaze. Abeebah watched them through the thick fall of her hair, transfixed by the gentleness one of her soon to be lovers’ was displaying and the sudden docility of the other. Mark’s usually dead stare was alight with slightest bit of admiration as he looked upon his brother’s scared visage.

Glen stared back, confused as to why he felt Mark’s approbation rather than his disgust. The older man quirked a half smile at Glen’s obvious confusion, “Beautiful”. He sucked in a sharp breath and looked toward Abeebah. The dark brawler still clutched the sheet to her naked form even as she watched them. Like Mark there was no disgust in her fathomless wine eyes, only curiosity and the slightest bit of approval. ‘He’s right you know you are beautiful’. Glen felt tears of relief well behind his eyes but he held them back. He would not them to fall even now, where there were no secrets between them.

Turning his attention back to Mark Glen smiled almost mischievously at him before grasping the sheets at Abeebah’s feet and once again meeting the woman-child’s gaze. Mark did the same, and together the brothers tugged the sheets down their’ bride’s nude form. They could both feel her anxious determination as it inched away from her grasp. Abeebah raised her chin determined to face this knowing she wasn’t alone. Finally the flimsy clothe was lowered to reveal her unclad body to the curious eyes of Mark and Glen. Mark wondered if such a petite woman could handle both of them.

Darkly bronzed skin littered with the occasional scar and slight discoloration from previously healed injury met their eyes. Mark’s jade gaze zeroed in on how toned Abeebah’s muscles made her appear more masculine without actually losing any of the curves that most definitely spoke of her being a woman. Glen was more occupied with the scars that stood out in Abeebah’s otherwise dark skin. Each of them told a story similar to his own, that of endless pain and anger.

There was a fairly large burn mark on her left shoulder, slash marks where belt buckles tore away flesh on her hip, and even the occasional scar from where she had been shot at one time or another. Though numerous the blemishes Abeebah carried were nowhere as severe as Glen. Still he found them fascinating enough for a closer inspection. The big man crawled up Abeebah’s body, hyper aware of the almost invisible tremor quaking her sturdy form. Mark watched his progress both pleased and surprised that Glen was taking the initiative.

It seemed that years without human contact had not stifled his need to touch and be touched. And Glen did so, mindful of how uncomfortable making Abeebah but too interested in her scars to really care. Like his brother Glen traced each scar gently with his fingertips, mentally cataloguing between the ones he recognized and ones he didn’t. Mark moved alongside of him watching but making no move to join in his little brother’s exploration. Abeebah was grateful. Glen’s ‘almost touching’ was already wreaking havoc on her senses.

Glen’s steel under raw silk flesh rubbed against her own as his musky scent filled Abeebah’s nostrils. It was intoxicating on a very primal level. She didn’t know if she could handle them both quite yet. Glen slowly made his way up Abeebah’s body becoming bolder as he felt her reactions through their’ link. Yes, she was afraid as he but also just as curious. Each touch alighted an almost electrical current between them and causing a pool of heat to well in their’ stomachs.

Then Mark placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder stopping just short of kissing her and stroked Abeebah’s hair reassuringly with the other. It was becoming almost impossible for Abeebah and Glen to breathe. Then he kissed Glen, coaxing the younger man’s lips to upon under his. It didn’t take long for Glen’s passionate nature to take over causing him to turn the gentle exploration into a fierce meeting of tongue and teeth. It didn’t matter because they both were hardly gentle beings on any level. This was natural to both of them far too used to intensity of one way or another.

But for the oldest horsemen this was new on a frightening point. Abeebah could feel every wave of pleasure crash into her taxed senses almost sending her reeling with how much these two could ‘feel’. She closed her eyes hoping that by doing so would help her to shut out some of the intoxicating pleasure flooding her senses. It only made it worse. And then Glen’s lips claimed hers, hot and fierce, teaching her passion she never knew. Abeebah had to tilt her head back as he plundered her mouth ruthlessly taking possession of her.

Mark had slipped behind his younger brother and then kissed his shoulder as he watched Glen’s domination of their’ bride. At first Abeebah tried to fight back the tidal waves that were threatening to consume her. It was driving her out of her mind and causing her to lose any and every sense that she possessed. The burning sensation in her gut spread throughout Abeebah’s body and causing the young woman to gasp as she tried to back away to gain some semblance of control. However the brothers had other ideas. Mark moved to their’ lover’s side and pinned her hands to the headboard above her head.

Glen delved even deeper into her mouth, forcing her tongue to play along his. The big man coaxed the brunette beauty’s legs apart by forcing his thigh between them and rubbing his aching length against her inner thigh creating an instinctually pleasing friction. They broke from the kiss gasping and panting for air. Glen planted nipping kisses down her jaw and lightly bit the dark throat bared to him. “Damn it Glen”, Abeebah’s voice was a breathy whisper among the shadows that played along the heavy curtains around the bed. Mentally Glen chuckled and continued to kiss his way down her body, drinking in every sound he forced out of the young woman’s throat.

Curses flew past Abeebah’s lips endlessly demanding that Mark release her hands which were still trapped above her head. Instead the Death Valley demon placed both of her hands in his left while he used his right hand to pinch one of Abeebah’s erect nipples while suckling on the other. Unable to hold it in any longer Abeebah threw her head back and yelled out her unwilling pleasure. Glen sucked her bellybutton.

‘Stop’, she pleaded. Glen looked up at his virgin lover through the thick curls of his chocolate mane. But he didn’t stop, instead he went lower kissing the curls at the junction of Abeebah’s thighs. ‘No’. Her fear and desire nearly became a living breathing thing where she sat pinned down by two demonic brothers. Coils spun in the pit of her stomach, tighter and tighter elevating her new found passion to innovative heights.

By now the dark beauty was terrified. Mark let go of the pebbled morsel that had occupied his mouth, “it’s alright, let go darl’n, let it go”. And then Glen did the one thing she thought no one would ever dare. He parted the lips of her sex with his tongue curious and beyond aroused by Abeebah’s reaction to the things he and Mark did to her.

A half keening half whimpering sound issued from Abeebah’s throat intermingling with the still chanting priest. The brothers groaned in answer. They could feel the conflict inside of Abeebah finally giving way to the pleasure they had been trying to share. They lost themselves in each other giving and taking gratification in ways that were only hinted at in various media. Abeebah’s eyes fluttered behind closed lids as Glen fed of the nectar of her nether region greedily forcing sounds out of Abeebah that the woman was sure up until this moment thought herself incapable of making.

Mark still held her hands in his fist while his unoccupied hand stroked her side but his face was buried in her neck, panting and sweat slick from feeling what his brother was doing to Abeebah. This was so much more than the few flings he had with the occasional woman he met to satisfy his more primal urges. He could just as easily feel every stroke of his brother’s tongue as Abeebah who sagged boneless in his grip. Could feel every stretch of intimate muscles around the slippery appendage as Glen eagerly devoured their’ bride’s womanly secret. Even the gentle caresses that Mark gave Abeebah’s taunt ribs were seemingly superimposed in their’ link. They were all laid bare in this place. Secrets, agendas, mask of any and all types were set aside for this.

What ‘this’ was beyond any of their’ comprehension because this was more than mere pleasure. A sudden jolt went down the dead man’s spine and Abeebah’s back bowed. She came with a thunderous gasp. Glen lapped up her fallen juices without preamble the tangy flavor coating his tongue like the thickest of honey. Mark kissed her ear listening to each pant as his little brother finished his self appointed task and kissed his way back up Abeebah’s body. Glen took her lips in his own once more, still fierce, still passionate. He let the darkest horsemen taste her citrus like flavor on his tongue and was pleased like his brother to feel her answering passion.

Glen glanced at Mark from the corner of his blue eye and pulled him forward in invitation. The big man didn’t need further coercion. Glen moved so that the elder Calloway could situate himself between Abeebah’s thighs. Suddenly their’ bride’s eyes were open and somewhat alert, her body stiff at the feeling of the elder of her two lover’s penis so close to her virgin sheath. The deadman kissed Abeebah forcefully making the brunette beauty to once again to surrender to the passion of the moment and get lost in the haze of pleasure shared between the three of them.

Once again Abeebah went slack helpless to the onslaught that the brothers ruthlessly pressed upon her. Somehow Glen managed to slip behind her and dipped his fingers into her wet sex causing the woman child to lean back into his hold while reflexively tightening her legs around Mark’s waist. The elder Calloway broke their’ kiss wetly, “that’s it girl, relax, let it come, we got cha”. Again she came panting and moaning out her pleasure yet still feeling not completely satisfied. Glen removed his cum slicked fingers from her soaked folds and lifted her bottom slightly so that his fingers coaxed their’ way inside her puckered back entrance.

Abeebah didn’t notice as she was too distracted by Mark’s unyielding flesh diving into her vagina. His hips thrust forward with one powerful surge deep into her small body breaking her maiden head in one sure stroke. She screamed as a sharp pain shot up her spine intermingling with pleasure. The elder of her two lovers whispered apologies into hair as he stilled, giving her time to adjust to his large girth. Glen ran a soothing hand through Abeebah’s sweat soaked chocolate mane as his hand continued to stretch and tease her back end. Mark placed a chaste kiss on Abeebah’s nose before he pulled back slowly and thrust back inside.

Unbidden a gasping moan issued from their’ bride’s throat. “Damn girly you’re so tight”, Mark whispered hoarsely. Abeebah automatically grasped at one of Mark’s massive arms and cradled the back of Glen’s head with the other as Mark repeated the action. And then the younger of her two lovers’ entered her ass. Another gasp slipped past Abeebah’s chapped lips, turning into a scream of pleasure as Mark suddenly lunged forward filling her so complete it was almost painful. Glen retreated and then bucked slammed her down onto his throbbing member once again. Mark ducked his head and sucked on one of Abeebah’s abused nubs as he once again filled her upon his brother’s retreat.

Together the brothers sought to bring Abeebah to a whole new level of frenzy as they took possession of her in the most primal of ways. Ragged breaths intermingled with sweat and intimate fluids as the three of them savored in each other joined in a rhythm as old as time. “Please, oh fuck’n god, please”, Abeebah didn’t know what she was begging for but Mark did and wordlessly signaled for Glen to speed up with him so that they would all find release.

They sped up coiling the springs in their’ bellies tighter and tighter until finally it snapped causing Abeebah to through back her head and scream out her final release. The brothers’ roars of completion joined hers as they emptied their’ thick seeds into her womb and rear end until it flowed out of the crevasses.

They froze stuck in a euphoric high that none of them had ever experienced. And then the world came crashing right back down taking them with it. Senses still buzzing from the overwhelming experience of being taken Abeebah’s eyes were tightly shut as she felt the thunderous heartbeats echoing against her back and a hot breath still upon her breast. Gasping for air, Mark, Glen, and Abeebah fell sideways and into the mattress bodies still intertwined. They were all too tired to really care. Rapped around each other they didn’t even notice black lines drawing themselves around their’ ankles.
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The Four Horsemen