Title: A Valet For a Dead Man
Ratings: Rated R for love scenes and violence
Contents/Warnings: graphic violence and sexual situations
Spoilers (If any): none
Characters: Main characters: Undertaker and OCs: Jaden Brock, and Melissa Anderson
Disclaimers: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story intended for entertainment. Pics used for coverart were from various sites dedicated to the stars and are completely credited to the sites from which they are hosted.
Summary: Jaden Brock is concerned about the murder that occurs so near the arena that WWE Raw took place at in Pennsylvania. Mainly because her cousin, Melissa works for the WWE on the Creative Team and the murder took place only three blocks away from the center. Soon she is even more worried as the days go by and another murder takes place at RAW in the parking garage of the center. Murders keep happening one after the other within the WWE company, and Jaden is scared to death for her cousin.

Soon her fears come to pass, and Melissa is indeed found murdered in her make-shift office at the arena in Florida. She is overcome with grief but soon finds the courage to get through it and makes it her mission to find Melissa’s murderer. She goes through with the application to the Diva Search that Melissa had sent in for her, and makes the top eight. Determined to stay in the running to investigate, she plans to do anything she has to, to stay in the search. To her dismay she is eliminated early in the competition and is sent packing. Openly upset back in the locker rooms, she doesn’t realize that someone is watching her, and decides to pull some strings to keep her with the company. Soon she discovers that she is signed on and assigned to train under Mark Calloway, “The Undertaker”, and in the mean time becomes his valet.
When danger lurks closer and closer, can Jaden discover her cousin’s killer? And can the Dead Man keep her safe…or is he the man that Jaden is seeking to prove guilty of her cousin’s murder? After all…every murder has been centered around the WWE. It could be anyone…..

Author's Note: I've been working on this idea of a fic for a few months (maybe a year) and even had some of it written, but like some of my other fics, I lost my work on my computer. Anyhoo, I only have to chapter one right now because I'm having to re-write it. Be patient, I WILL get more up. It's just taking a while to get all this work re-done. Thanks! )

Chapter 1 (Prologue)

My mother made it very clear. She reminded me all the time. And it got worse after my father died when I was only four. The reason I can remember that far back? Try having the woman that brought you into this world, scream at you that you ruined her life. After my dad died, she soon found another man to move in and take care of her. Not long after, she was pregnant again. She had a little girl. And just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse…they of course did. If the baby so much as cried when I was around it, I was beaten. As my half-sister got older, things became unbearable. She was so spoiled that when something was broken, or if she pouted, I was blamed, and I paid.

Then the time came when my mother’s boyfriend left her. Who was blamed? Me of course.

So, when I turned eighteen, I moved out. I struggled with bills for many years but always managed to make ends meet doing any minor jobs. Pizza delivery, grocery store clerk, you name it I did it. I wasn’t going to complain though. I was finally free.

But still, this anger and rage consumed me. I had to find a way to deal with it. I toyed with the notion of finding a way to pay my mother and sister back. But that would not be easy as I lost track of them. It had been well over ten years since I’d last seen them and I had no idea where they had moved. But still, the idea of revenge soaked up my every thought. What difference did it make if I acted it out on my mother and sister or just women in general? Women were all the same anyway.

That idea quickly changed however, one night when I was flipping channels and came across a wrestling program. That was it! I wanted to hurt any promiscuous, strong-willed woman and make them pay. Because that was what I hated in my mother and sister. They had to always rely on a man to take care of them but yet treated them like dirt. They were manipulative horrible creatures, and they had to pay for what they’d done to me.

The wrestling program inspired me and I decide to become a referee, so I’d be surrounded by lots of women wanting to break into wrestling. Strong-willed, manipulative, and slutty women. Perfect…

So about a month later, I was training to referee and found my first victim. She was an attractive blonde, who was training to wrestle and showed much potential. I might have left her alone had she not hit on me one night.

She came up to me after a long practice one night and asked me if I wanted to go home with her. I even gave her a chance. I declined. But she had to try and "subtly" persist. I decided to go ahead. Why not get a little practice in? A woman was a woman after all. I agreed to, and suggested that she not tell anyone about our "date" just in case it was not allowed for the refs in training and female wrestlers to mix business and pleasure. She agreed, and commented on me being so smart. What a moron.

I decided to ride with her in her car so my vehicle would not be spotted. I had dark clothes on and it was late. No lights on throughout the houses in her neighborhood. No witnesses. Perfect.

When she wasn't looking, I pulled on some black gloves so my prints would be non-existent. She entered the house with me behind her and tossed her jacked down on a chair in the hall. She asked me if I wanted a drink. When I didn't answer she turned to look at me. She noticed the gloves.

No going back. This is it.

I backhanded her to the floor. No sense in wasting time. Get it done.

She cried out and I saw blood pouring out of her nose. I grinned at her and crouched down to her. I gripped her trampy dress in my hand and ripped it from her. She screamed now. This just seemed to feed my need to hurt, to destroy, to humiliate.

I got on top of her and held her down as I prepared myself and took her. She screamed out in pain and I enjoyed it. The more she cried in pain the more pleasure I seemed to get from it. After a few minutes I was through and pulled out the pocket knife I kept with me. She struggled more and tried to get away, but she couldn't. I was too strong for her. I grabbed her hair and forced her head back. I planted a kiss on her mouth and then slashed the knife across her throat. It only took seconds for her to die. Which was disappointing. I had somehow thought that there would be more to it. It was exciting but didn't last long enough. And something was missing. I didn't know what. But I'd figure it out.

Little did I know that a few months later. I'd figure it out.

You see, if I was wanting to pay my mother and sister back...I needed women that resembled them physically as well as in their actions.

I needed brunettes. Blondes were NOT going to do it for me. And I have my eye on the perfect girl. But I need practice. This is my art. Art takes practice.