The Undertaker had been walking down the hallway with Bearer at his side who was talking in earnest, but he wasn’t really listening. His long black robe added to his dark appearance and the only person who could be near him and not feel fear while in his dark side was Bearer. They had been making their way toward the ring entrance for the main event of the night, then he saw something that almost made him snap completely out of character.
Through the open doorway of the doctor’s room, he saw that his angel was bent over Val Venis, her back to him, her attention fully on Val’s tanned shoulder. He wanted to stop walking in order to look longer at her, but he was fully in his character and he didn’t want to arouse suspicion with Paul. He glanced at her one more time, this time catching the sight of something that made his blood boil with anger. As she crossed over Val’s body to his shoulder, her shirt had fell down and gaped open and he saw that Val’s eyes were devouring the sight of her chest that her shirt bared to him.
He had to keep
walking. His hands clenched into fists at his sides and he grinded his
teeth, struggling to focus. Bearer had not noticed his change of moods,
but had noticed that the Undertaker’s pace had quickened. He wanted to
get this over with. He was sechuled for an eight minute match, and would
of cut it short, but after changing the outcome of his last match and being
threatened with 30 day expulsion, he couldn’t afford it.
The crowd’s noise rose to deafening heights when he made his appearance. The crowd was happy to see him and supported him. As he entered the ring, his opponent had noticed the glaze of pure anger and fury on his eyes, and gave serious consideration of walking away from the match. He would face an angry boss, but it could be better than facing an angry Undertaker in a match.
The Undertaker hurried the match along as much as he could. He tried to focus on the match as hard as he could, but every time he looked at his opponent, he saw Venis. At one point during a high point of his anger, he had grabbed a steel chair and came dangerously close to smashing it on his opponents head before letting it fall from his hands. Instead he signaled for his signature move and to the crowd’s delight, he gave his opponent the Tombstone Piledriver. He waited only for the ref to count to three before he was off to the backstage area. He only faintly heard the crowd’s cheers. His hatred and fury had consumed him. He didn’t even wait for Paul to catch up before he stepped through the dark curtain that separated the arena from the backstage. He immediately went to the room where the doctor was, but for some reason, it was empty. Turning, he grabbed the nearest backstage hand by the shirt, demanding to know where Venis was. Upon hearing that he and a short girl with black hair had left for the night, he threw the man to the ground so hard and fast that he slid a good ten feet before crashing into a large box. Fuming, he turned and stormed to his dressing room, everyone in his path hurrying out of his way since they had never seen him so angry.
Venis had took his angel from him! That son of a b*tch had stolen his angel from him! He had waited two long weeks just to have her swept away!
He reached his room and slammed the door shut with a force that could be heard three rooms away. He promptly destroyed everything his hands touched, including breaking the mirror that hung on the wall. After a few satisfying minutes of destruction, a question came into his mind that made him stop in his tracks.
Was he mad at Venis, or was he jealous?
Copyright 1999 by Lady Serria