The Undertaker's Brides

The place had seemed so set and determined when she*d arrived here. But a door that had led to the living room now opened into a set of stairs heading down. Getting disoriented in this half though out maze of place was easy, Kiri had learned that after her first few minutes in the place. Paul Bearer was still dangerous and she*d be a fool to forget that. He seemed totally self-aware one moment and then would seem lost somewhere in between the *script* and the newly emerging personality. Time passed differently in this place it seemed. She was sure she*d been here for weeks and in *Parlor* time it had merely been days.

The ache to return to her own Parlor dug a little deeper each day in her father*s home. What was a parlor without a mistress? And a mistress without her parlor? Such thoughts were thrust aside by her for the hope that the new mind emerging from the convoluted mass of half-formed ideas and badly planned scripts could be turned into an ally rather than the vicious enemy he had been formally. Currently, a staircase lay before her where a living room should have been. She sighed and stepped down, closing the door behind her.

*****

Storm and Kane had left again. The others moped around briefly until the Undertaker himself seemed determined to break the dark mood. He went into the kitchen and opened and closed several of the cabinets searching for something. He didn*t find it. He glanced around the empty kitchen and then looked ... with a purpose ... at the counter top. A jar of pennies appeared.

The loud bang of a chair being slammed down at the large table caused every woman in the room to leap half out of her skin. As they turned to see what he was doing, the soft whisper of cards being shuffled tickled their ears.

*Who*s up for that strip poker game?* a deep bass laugh followed his intentionally seductive comment. A smile was hidden beneath his long raven hair as the women nearly murdered each other getting to the table and the jar of shiny pennies resting near their Dark Lord.

*Rules are this ...* He nearly purred the words deeply ... *No wilds ... if you are caught bluffing ... you*re out.* He cut the deck with a single hand as his other hand shoved his hair back out of his face so the women gathered could see the faint playfully evil smile. *And winner takes all.* He set the cards down and glanced at the jar. It was suddenly empty and in front of each player were neat stacks of pennies. *We play with the pennies, but the winner ... gets to make one person strip.* His eyes sparkled as finished with a toothy ...nearly fangs in fact ... grin. *I win ... one of you strips for me. One of you win, I strip. Understood?*

Every head at the table nodded as the women looked at him ... each distracted by the thought of him standing nude before them. He managed a little power-play and their thoughts of him nude failed to change his current appearance. Small victory for the Deadman. He pushed the thought aside and began to deal.

*****

An Ace, a King, a Jack and a ten stared up at him from his hand. He sighed and chewed his lip a bit. The sighes that followed weren*t his but they did cause him to glance up. The women who had lost were staring at him with these adoring looks in their eyes. He chewed his lips more. They wanted him to lose and this was the hand. Elentari had shoved everything she had into the pile when she raised and gave him a look that caused him to think about blushing ... think about ... He*d shoved his pile to the center of the table and glanced at the deck. He dealt her her last card. She picked it up and looked down at her hand hiding most of her face in the process before she glanced at the card. The corners of her lips twitched upwards for a second before slipping back into a neutral expression. DAMN. He saw himself stripping in his mind and reached for ma card silently. A card felt like every other card in the deck. He pulled it against his chest for a second before pulling it away an inch or two and glanced down at it ... and smiled.

Elentari had studied his moves. He had been very worried until he saw the card. Is it enough to beat four 8s? Nah, can*t be. He slipped the card into his hand actually in the middle. His eyes sparkled as they locked onto hers.

*Call.* Damn, he has a good voice. Bet he looks as good as he sounds.

She grinned and spread the cards out on the table. *Four 8s. You*re mine.* He grinned at her. *Think so?* He flipped a card onto the table ... an ace of Hearts spun to a stop before her.

*Are you sure?* Another card spun across the table ... a ten of Hearts.

*I*m yours, huh?* The King landed on the table spinning and didn*t stop until it bounced off her chest.

*Wanna raise the stakes?* The Jack was flipped out of his hand casually and he admired it a bit before tossing it gently to her. One card ... one card would decide if he stripped or not. And the deal was ... he picked who stripped. He grinned. Every woman waited ... wondering if he had managed to do it. Elentari licked suddenly dry lips and shook her head no. His grin widened.

*Too bad, hon.* The card was tossed into the air and landed on a corner in the pile of pennies. The Queen of Hearts smiled at the other women denying them their prize. He smiled, leaned back in the chair and tucked his hands under his head. *So many Brides and only one Undertaker as Kiri is so fond of saying.*

The women glanced at each other ... wondering ... who was the lucky girl.

*****

The steps creaked under her boots as she slipped into the darkness. When the door closed, it shut off the only light down here. It had taken time for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Her hearing hadn*t needed time and it had heard the faint scratches of tiny claws on cement or stone ... Rats. I hate rats. She slipped further into the darkness wondering who*s twisted head this had come out of. Bet it was McMahon. That money loving basta- Her thoughts stopped when her mind exploded in a million stars. Each was a sun glowing brightly burning her mind, filling her senses with pain. She pitched forward into the darkness and fell down the few remaining stairs. The cement floor met her bare palms and scratched the hell out of them, but it slowed her down so she only bashed her aching head against the hard and unyeilding floor. Seeing that the other option was to have had her head split open like a melon, it was for the best. The heavy steps on the staircase echoed through her ringing ears like a siren announced an airraid. She Put her hands under her and pushed up. The slick blood from her palms caused her to fall again before she rose to unsteady feet. The light clicked on and it*s sudden brightness after the inky blackness of the staircase had her stumbling as her bloodied palms attempted to block the harsh light. The chuckle she heard caused her heart to freeze solid and the breath in her lungs to turn stale.

*Oh, did daddy*s little girl fall down and hurt herself?* Paul teased from a safe distance. Well, one of the three Paul Bearers teased her ... she was fairly sure one of the three of the them was the one that had hit her. *Oh, did my little girl hurt herself? You really shouldn*t play in the dark if you can*t handle the things that live there.*

*I don*t ... understand ... Why?* The little girl hurt tone surprised even her. I guess I wanted a dad worse than I thought. It blinded me. He can*t change. He doesn*t want to. She backed away from him. Her legs felt like jello and the room was tilting dangerously from side to side. The aching pain in her head made thoughts of her Parlor a confusing jumble of half-remembered, half-dreamed ideas. Her mind slipped free of the pain and drifted into the peace of unconscious while her body slumped to the cold hard floor at Paul Bearer*s feet.

*****

The chair that the Undertaker lay so confortably on while selecting which Bride would be stripping for his pleasure phased out of existance. Wham! His bulk crashed to the floor. At first the women thought he*d overbalanced, then the table winked out of existance and those of them leaning on it either fell to the floor or managed to grab onto something (or someone) to keep themselves from falling. The walls of the Parlor phased in and out of existance like a strobe light turning on and off. The women ... more afraid than they had been in the entire time they*d been in the Parlor screamed and clung to each other or to the Undertaker.

*What*s going on?* Cyn bellowed over the loud not-quiet normal music that filled the air. It was a butchered ... banshee shriek filled version of the Udnertaker*s own entrance music. The chairs Kiowa and Elentari were on vanished and the two women crashed to the ground bruising their ... er ... pride.

*I don*t know.* He bellowed over the noise. Judy was clinging to his left arm with a grip that vaguely surprised him with it*s strength.

*****

Kane and Storm were laying together barely covered by the soft satin sheets. They needed time away and thankfully they had not hurt their brother ... Man, that was a strange way to think of the Undertaker. Kaliegh lay awake enjoying the steady rise and fall of her man*s bare chest which was still caressed in a faint sheen of sweat from their earlier lovemaking. A soft noise ... barely audible ... got her attention ... as it grew in volume, Kane awoke and glanced around surprised. The cachocny that filled the Parlor found and filled even this sanctuary. The horridly mutilated version of the Undertaker*s old entrance made their minds ache. With a glance at each other, they vanished ... and appeared fully clothed in the Parlor*s living room. Well, what was left of the living room. The women were all near the table ... er ... where the table should have been. The floor buckled and Kane and Storm fell to their knees. Kane*s arms encircled her shielding her from the worst of the battering.

*What*s going on?* Storm yelped over the noise. *We thought you might be in trouble.*

*We are.* Elentari growled. The Undertaker and Kane met eyes and Storm found herself in the Undertaker*s arms after blinking into nothing and then back. Her *NO!!!!!!!!!!!* dilled the room as Kane vanished from the Parlor ... destination unknown.

*****

Paul stood watching as his daughter ... his shame ... lay helpless at his feet. She*d first come to him full of strength, but returned weaker ... needful ...and if it factured the stable Brides ... drove them apart at all ... then her *needs* were the perfect method for his revenge. Oh, yes. Some part of him regreted her pain and suffering. But ... she had allied with the Undertaker ...had helped lure his son from him with her sweet whispers of sisterly affection... she wasn*t the real one he wanted to punish ... but she was a start.

The blood oozing from her headwound stained the cement floor. He lifted a glossy black shoe covered foot and watched a few drops of crimson fall back to the floor.

*Stupid girl, do you know how hard it is to get blood off of good leather?* He kicked her before turning to leave. The whimpered cry of pain was a symphony to his ears. He finished his turn and froze. Kane stood behind him ... fire burning in his eyes ... Paul retreated a step backwards, Kane advanced ...quickly. The bat which Paul had carelessly had became a blowtorch and he raised it keeping the demon off of him. Then he smiled and vanished ... He had long ago awakened to his true nature and the power it gave him .... He was safe ...for now.

*****

The Undertaker was black and blue. Not all of it was from the mad and thrashing form of his sister-in-law, not all of it. The Parlor ceased phasing in and out. The walls were a chaotic mess. They looked as if they*d been partially melted. The table didn*t return, not did the chairs. While the horrid music stopped, Storm*s screams of anger didn*t.

*Where is he? Where is he? Where is he?* Her screams where deafening him worse than the music had. Remind me to go next time something like this happens, it*s less painful. The room filled with the aroma of burnt wood and chemicals as Kane reappeared carrying the limb and unmoving form of his baby sister in his arms.

*KIRI!* Cyn cried. *No!*

Book Seventeen of The Undertaker's Brides

© 1998 by The Brides of Darkness

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