A/N: I hate Emily Dickinson.

Everyone tried to warn me.

Don't get mixed up with a guy like Edge, he'll pull you into his problems and let you drown. There's no way you can decode a guy like Edge, his mind is a whole other world, a swirling, deserted rage of emotions that send him flying off the deep end at a moment's notice. Don't fall for a guy like Edge, he has no soul, there's nothing to it, it's all about conquer, it's all about manipulation, it's all about power.

Everyone tried to warn me about Edge.

Too bad they didn't even see the one in the shadows.


"Did you hear?"

I always felt out of the loop whenever I was forced to talk to the likes of Eve or Gail Kim. It was like I just didn't fit. Like I lived on a different planet, like they lived on a different planet. Conversations were always the same, materialistic and shallow. They never talked about anything deeper than the surface. I usually didn't associate with them, they were too narcissistic for my taste, but Jillian was nowhere to be found, and I was a glutton for pain, so I stayed where I was, stuck at the table by the door.

"No, what?"

"Edge is being questioned about Cole."

"No way. Why?"

"Have you seen him? The guy's insane!"

"Oh, my God, right? He totally had something to do with it."

"There's just something off about him."

Randy brushed past my chair, just making his normal rounds. He never liked to sit, Randy Orton. No, he usually paced, either in the hallways, or catering. It was like he was just wired to prowl.

"What are you bitches talking about?" Chris Jericho sat next to me and smiled, putting his hand on my leg.

I pushed it off.

He frowned. "Why the sudden disinterest, Dungeon Diva?"

"I was never interested."

"Babe. Really? Come on."

"Just because we're both Canadian doesn't mean we have to get married."

"Actually…" He put his arm on the back of my chair. "It does."

"Gail's Canadian."

Chris smirked at her. "You'd marry me, wouldn't you, dollface?"

She just nodded. "Yeah."

But then he grimaced. "Nah, she's Canasian."

"Chris—"

Randy went by again, glancing at all of us, but continued on his slow and steady way.

Then the door opened.

And everything just sort of... stopped.

He was just poised at first, a ticking time bomb. His eyes scanned the room and then his nose twitched. The corner of his mouth. His fingers started wagging against his leg.

Eve sucked in a breath when he stepped up behind her.

"Hi, Nat."

I kinda smiled. "Hi."

Randy slid behind him, just a quick side glance before he disappeared again.

Edge scratched at his jaw slowly, lifting his face, finger brushing against the same crook of bone. It was so feline, the way he almost enjoyed it. "What are you doing?"

Chris's face was turned toward me, half-smiling.

I shrugged. "Nothing. You?"

He ran his tongue over his teeth. "Nothing."

But Edge never did nothing.


"Someone get a medic!"

I stopped walking with Jillian, getting knocked around by the hasty people coming at me from behind. I glared at whoever pushed me into her, grabbing her arm for support.

"What the hell is going on?" she demanded.

I grabbed a stagehand before he could fly by me. "What's going on?"

"Jerry Lawler's dead," he said breathlessly, and hurried down the hall.

I blinked, first at the ground, then at Jillian.

She was wide-eyed. "Did he just say..."

"Hey."

We both screamed, out of habit and turned around.

He wasn't phased though, just standing tall. Randy never changed anymore, it was always his ring outfit. Boots, trunks, shameless self-promoting shirts. Signature gaze.

I pressed a hand to my heart. "Randy. Do you know what's going on?"

He glanced over our heads, down the hall. "Looks like a murder."

"Yikes." Jillian shivered. "What's become of this company?"

Randy didn't say anything.

I rubbed my arms, looking at her. "I wonder who could do such a thing."

"I'm sure the police will find out."

"There are no patterns." Randy gazed at Jillian, at me. "He strikes at will."

"I'm sure that—"

Edge came barreling down the hall, sliding on the floor, hitting the wall beside us. Jillian and I screamed again, and moved against Randy, but he wasn't there.

He was just gone.

"Hi. I gotta run. Stuff... uh, to do. Figure out. I can't say." Edge kissed my cheek, hesitating, hair all over the place. "Uh, I… Later."

Jillian frowned when he disappeared. "I don't know, Nattie. He seems too... suspicious."

"He's fine," I said quietly.

"I'm worried he's gonna do something. You should never have gotten mixed up with someone like him. All he does is cause problems." She paused. "Now, Randy, on the other hand. There's someone you could settle down with."

But snakes never stop moving.


"I'm glad you ended it. I knew he was bad news."

He didn't really. He just went along with what everyone else was saying, what everyone else was thinking. He just judged him the way everyone else did, with no proof or evidence to back it up.

He's substantially insane. I think that's proof enough.

Not in the wrestling business. We're all crazy.

Some just hide it better than others.

John patted my shoulder. "You'll be all right, won't you?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

He kinda smiled and walked off. He had a meeting to discuss new t-shirt plans—nothing ever affected John on a deeper level. A few jabs to the surface, a few knock downs, but he was back on his feet in no time.

I always said it was because he had no heart.

Millions of people disagree with me.

That doesn't mean I'm wrong.

I already knew he was there, just by the way the air changed.

He let out a little sigh. "Hear from Edge?"

I scratched at my neck, almost the way Edge did. "Last I heard, he was charged with first degree murder on two accounts."

Randy kinda smiled. "Yeah. I heard that, too."

I just shook my head. "How could you just get away with that?"

Randy looked at his nails. "No one suspects me."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not obvious about it."

I closed my eyes.

His mouth was near my ear. "The quiet ones are always more dangerous. It means they're thinking of ways to kill you."

I looked up at him, silent.

He sort of smiled. "Dinner at eight."

And just as he walked off, Jillian walked up.

"Plans with Randy?" she asked excitedly.

I just pursed my lips.

She grabbed my arm. "Oh, Nattie, you two are so cute. I'm so glad Edge isn't in the picture anymore—that guy was a serious nut job. Nothing like Randy."

I couldn't help but nod. "You're absolutely right."


Edge was just crazy.

But Randy... Randy was a whole different crazy.

And while Edge was chained to some wall in some psych center for the rest of his life, Randy was free to roam, and just watch, just wait, in the shadows.

Because no one suspected the quiet ones.

A/N: I was trying to find a quote to help me with my Randy sequel, and I ran into her work and I fucking hate that she made me want to write this (I'm not a big fan of her poetry). But the writer in me was clawing to get out a la Felix, so I had to do it. Review. (And maybe you guys will, since Jericho's not gay nor does it involve any of my shallow Ledgeacy characters)