The Undertaker's Brides

There was a good bit of fuss going on in the Parlor. Half the women clammored over Judy and the rest clung to Storm trying to draw out information about her brief but apparantly enjoyable honeymoon. Storm was uncharacteristically silence which only spurred on the Brides surrounding her. The men stood away from the women. The Undertaker watched with an expressions that nearly mirrored the one that was hidden behind the mask worn by his brother. It was filled with amusement, horror and confusion. How the women could stand, lay and sit and talk for hours about personal details left to the men uncomfortable.

*Women,* the Undertaker groaned softly. Kane nodded his head. Critical mistake. Storm and the others had heard the Undertaker*s comment and glanced up with amused anger glittering behind their eyes. When Storm saw Kane*s head nod in agreement, she cleared her throat and said ... slightly louder than she*d been before ... *Of course, you realize that rude generalizations about the way women act would cause even a newly-wed to sleep on the couch.* The other Brides chuckled in agreement and several stole sly glanced at Kane knowingly. His back stiffened and he quickly closed the distance separating them, picked her up only to sit amid the group of women and place her lovingly on his lap. She seemed to accept this apology, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. The others *wooo*ed and then laughed as the two newly-weds turned red. (Well, they suspected Kane blushed, but couldn*t prove it.)

Kiri stood near the kitchen door occationally running fresh drinks or some snacks around to the gathered ladies. Her eyes were blue-gray swirls of unreadable emotion as she passed the Undertaker. Grabbing her to confront her about what she was thinking would have been a mistake and he knew it, so he let her go by on yet another errand. His eyes fell onto kane and Storm as the Brides crowded ever closer seeming to be *charged* by the happiness the two newly-weds couldn*t restrain. He glanced away searching for Kiri. If she kept moping like this, the girls would start to notice. She wasn*t in the room. He went into the kitchen. The tray she*d been carrying was resting on the counter. The half of the empty glasses were half hidden in the sink by the warm sudsy water while the others dried on the drainboard. His hand slammed down onto the counter and all talking stopped in the outer room. Kaliegh poked her head in with a nervious chirp of *Is everything okay, you two? Umm ... where*s Kiri?*

His eyes rolled back and the room dropped several degrees causing goosebumps to race across the Brides* arms. *Gone.*

*****

*Why am I here?* She spoke to herself as she stood outside the front doors of Paul Bearer*s home. She*d been cleaning up in the kitchen thinking about ....What was I thinking about? Kane ... the Undertaker ... Paul. Her eyes opened a little wider in surprise as the memory flooded back.

*****

They*re so happy. Look at them. Like schoolkids on their first real date, they can*t keep their hands off the other one. The looks in their eyes. She shook her head slightly as she picked up the empty tea glass Cynthia had left resting on the endtable when she moved over to check on Kane and Storm. I*ll never have that. The real Kiri is back in the real world ... clueless ... Me? I*m the Brides* idea of what Kiri should be. The Mistress of the Morgue is a solo act. No man for me. She glanced at the loving couple and felt ...jealousy????? Where the hell did that come from? He*s my damn brother! She shook it off certain that it was just a pang of regret that no *Lord* was scripted in her character bible. She sighed and started back towards the kitchen. As she passed by the Undertaker, she saw the troubled look in his eyes. Women problems have got to suck when you*ve got several of them and can*t pick between them. She shook her head and set the tray down on the counter. The tall glasses stood waiting patiently to be washed. She moved a few over as her mind drifted. Who the hell is the Undertaker to me? Kane*s my half-brother. The Undertaker is his half-brother. But ... we really aren*t related. That*s gonna be a problem. Kane may feel he has to choose between us like he had the choose the Brides and his brother over his father ... our father... She put down the glass she was washing and wiped a hand across her forehead to swipe away the faint glow of sweat. Glasses, plates, a thousand little things needing cleaning. It*s so easy to think them into a clean state, but it wouldn*t feel clean to me. Damn! I wish ... I wish ... Hell! I wish I knew what to wish for! Somebody quick! Write a new character bible on the Mistress... this one sucks ... She put the another clean glass on the rack to dry.

Then the sink was gone ... the Parlor ... gone ... She hung in mid-air. Nothing above or below her. Not moving up or down. The space around her was black but an unnatural glow pulsed through the void filling her vision with lightning bolts of energy before they faded. The thought that she should be panicking did cross her mind, but she reasoned that she wasn*t real so nothing really mattered. Then a new lightning bolt sprang to brief life not far from her and the power rippled through her. The pain was real. She started worrying.

*****

She stood looking up at the doors which led to Paul*s home. She*d been here a few days ago and threathened him ... before Kane and Storm were married ... before the Undertaker seemed to be having problems with his Brides ... She stepped onto the porch and rested a hand on the door. It swung open at her touch. The house was filled with lilies ... tiger lilies, white lilies, even shades of lily that could not exist in the real world. She looked around slowly feeling like a child sneaking into a parent*s purse or wallet. The house seemed empty ... cold ... lonely ... Is this how it always is?

*No.*

She spun around to locate the source of the voice. Paul Bearer sat in a chair watching her from across the room. He shook his head slightly and his eyes dropped to the floor. She saw the dishevled appearence, the big sad eyes, and realized ... he*d lost. He lost Kane once and for all when his son married Storm. He*d never return to a man who tried to harm his bride. The Undertaker wouldn*t return because of the truth about Kane. The pain, betrayal and lies between them had destroyed any hope of salvaging a friendship. Then she realized that she hadn*t spoken her thoughts.

*No. You didn*t. This is my home. You*re here because ... I wanted to speak to you.*

*Why? We don*t have anything to talk about.*

*Don*t we? The Undertaker, Kane, the Brides, you ... me ... this place ... It*s not real, you know. Neither are we. We are ... the dream from which the dreamer hasn*t awaken. We play the part we are meant to play.* His voice was haunted.

*When did you make this discovery?* She asked skeptically.

*When I wished for you to be here ... and you were ...*

She sighed and closed the distance between them ... *If this is a dream and you are the ultimate evil in this dream, when I kill you the dream should end. Right?*

*Yes.* His voice cracked not with fear but sorrow.

*You were dead, Paul. You died when you went out the window after Judy.* He looked up at her blinking in disbelief. *You aren*t an athlete, Paul. You couldn*t have survived that fall. I couldn*t have and I*m in better shape than you.*

*But ... if I died, the dream should have ended.*

*Not if the role you were assigned wasn*t finished. Not if ... the dreamer can*t wake up.*

*But ... the role I was cast into is the villian ... so was Kane ...*

*No, too many of the Brides liked Kane ... or at least felt sorry for him and wanted to believe he could be good. But for the story to hold up ... you have to be evil.*

*I am.*

*Obviously. I*ve been within arms reach for most of this conversation and you haven*t moved to grab me. If I*m destroyed, logically ... my *home* should fade without me. You could force the Brides out of the Parlor ... Of course, they*d just relocate to the Undertaker*s home or make a new one, but the next is ...you haven*t moved.*

Paul sighed and stood up. *Let*s get this over with. How do I die for real here?* Kiri backpeddled startled by the question.

*I ... I ... don*t know.*

*You must have an idea.*

*Um ... no. Nothing. People would have to stop thinking about you. The millions of wrestling fans who watch a man play you would have to stop believing in that character. We can*t force that, Paul. It*s just not possible.* He sat back down and began sobbing into his chubby hands. Kiri glanced away not wanting to care. She did care. He was still her father and slowly she found herself moving towards him to comfort him. She leaned over him protectively and held the sobbing form of the dream of Paul and started crying herself ... For everything they could have had if their *pasts* had been happier.

Book Thirteen of The Undertaker's Brides

© 1998 by The Brides of Darkness

**This story cannot be used in any way without written permission