Dead Man Rising

She was unable to rip her eyes off of him. His long legs, lean hips, strong chest and long flowing hair were unspeakably beautiful to her. At the same time, the fear she had been feeling since she first found herself was growing, but she felt strangely detached from the feeling.

He moved to stand in front of her kneeling form, looking down at her and standing in the easy pose of one who is used to being listened to and obeyed.

He knelt swiftly down until he was crouched in front of her. Slowly he reached out a long finger and placed it on the golden symbol that still hung around her neck. Lightly touching it with just the one finger, he spoke to her for the first time.

"You are mine. My cross draws you closer to me every second."

She shook her head. "I can't really be yours," she whispered softly "I already belong to someone."

His eyes narrowed at her defiance, but that was the only indication he gave her that he had even heard her statement.

He stood, motioning for her to do the same. She complied almost against her will. When she had reached her feet, he quickly swept her up into his strong arms. Feeling dizzy and totally out of control, she rested her head on his chest, breathing the intoxicating way he smelled deep into her lungs like a drug.

Still holding her, he turned around and walked slowly back over to the black alter. As they drew near, she saw a name had been carved into the side of the thick granite slab.

"Mark Calloway"

She reached up a tentative hand and touched his cool face. Running her hand lightly over his rough features, she asked "Mark? Is that your name?"

She could feel a shudder went through his body at her words, but once again he didn't respond verbally to her. Instead he placed her gently onto the stone where he had been lying moments before.

She gasped in shock as the chilled stone made contact with her bare legs, buttocks and back. The stone was hard and uncomfortable, and it seemed to leech all the heat out of her body.

And then all of that was out of her head as if it had never been there as she looked up at him. His sharp green eyes were piercing down into her, and they stilled her squirming body as well as he could have by physically holding her down.

Her body seemed locked into place and he towered over her. She became terrified as she realized that she was actually unable to move, yet she also had to admit to herself that she was as aroused as she had ever been in her life.

As he spoke again, she felt as though an invisible hand thrust open her legs and started playing over her damp womanhood. He bent down and spoke directly into her ear, his voice softly vibrating through her entire body. His words had the feel of a ritual, though his voice was thick with lust.

'The spirit of the Undertaker lives in you. You have been chosen."

His hands went to her head and his voice turned into a growl and he pulled her over to him, guiding her full lips to his rapidly hardening cock. As he uttered the last word, he thrust himself into her wet mouth, effectively cutting off any protest she might have had.

He started moving within her, and when he spoke again, his voice was even deeper.

"Janelle, it is pointless to resist. You must accept the Lord of Darkness as your savior."

His words sent a powerful thrill of fear mixed with desire running through her. She fought desperately for control over herself, but in truth, she knew that she was completely lost. He was too compelling, too perfect. She didn't stand a chance against him.

She moaned as he pulled out of her mouth. He walked around the alter to the end where Janelle's feet where lying. Grasping both of her ankles in one hand, he pulled her down so she slid over the rough granite until her firm round ass was right at the edge by his legs.

His eyes lit up with pale green fire as unholy power started running through him. As he ran those intense eyes over her helpless body, they became brighter as he noticed slight traces of her blood on the alter where the rough stone had scraped her.

Leaning over, he drew his fingers over her shallow cuts, collecting her blood on his fingertips. He spoke again in something that sounded to her like Latin. Then he thrust his bloody fingers into his mouth, and repeated himself in English.

"Allow the purity of evil to guide you."

Without further ado, he spread her legs and thrust roughly into her. As they were joined, a bolt of lighting struck the open metal door, sending a shock through the entire stone building.

Janelle screamed once in denial as his cock and the electrical energy slammed into her. He began laughing, the sinister sound echoing around the chamber. He began to speak again in Latin, his laughter unnaturally prolonged to provide a bizarre counterpoint for his arcane chant.

As he was speaking, she felt the chain and pendant around her neck grow burning hot. She felt something, her soul maybe, rise up out of her body and into his. He slammed himself into her repeatedly, as he spoke, and although she was frightened, she still felt herself get ever closer to orgasm as he pounded into her. She started arching her back and hips to meet his brutal thrusts.

He growled out the final words to the spell as he plunged himself to the hilt inside of her. That last stroke pulled her over the edge, and she convulsed involuntarily as he poured his icy cold fluid into her.

She felt the energy he had absorbed from her slam back into her body, but now it was tainted with his unholy energy.

"Janelle. When I call for you, you will come to me." He was not asking a question but stating a truth.

She answered anyway. "Yes Lord, I will come."

* * * * *

She woke into the bright sunlight. She stumbled from the bed to the mirror. She gazed into it at her nude body, expecting to see cuts on her back, but her skin was smooth and unflawed. There was no physical trace of the night, but she could feel his power inside of her.

She stared at her reflection. She saw her image was holding some paper in her left hand. Looking down at her real hand, she saw that she was indeed holding some thick paper.

Carelessly sliding down onto the floor, she looked at what she held. It was an envelope of cream coloured thick paper with her name scribed in an old fashioned style on the front. Flipping it over, she saw that it was sealed with a red blot of wax. The same symbol that hung from the necklace around her neck was impressed into it.

Breaking it open, she pulled out a cream coloured piece of paper and two small white ones. She peered curiously at the two small papers. She was shocked when she saw what they were. One was a plane ticket to Detroit. The other was a ticket to the next major pay-per-view event, Survivor Series.

She flipped open the folded piece of cream paper, reading what was within.

'You have been summoned'

As soon as she had read those 4 words, the paper and envelope exploded into flames, burning down until nothing, not even ashes was left.

She understood the message.

"Yes Lord, I will come to you."

* * * * *

" I don't understand! Where are you going?"

Janelle stopped just at the threshold of the door to her house. She looked back over her shoulder at her fiancé, and what she saw came close to breaking her heart.

He was standing there, his green eyes concerned. His beautiful face was set in a confused expression, and one hand was stretched out to stop her from leaving.

She was unable to stop herself from flinging herself into his arms. She tilted her face back and their lips met.

God help me, She thought,I love him still.

"I will be back," She promised fervently "I have to go, I have been called. But I swear to you by all that is holy that I will return to you."

She tore out of his arms suddenly, and before he could stop her, she was running out to the cab that was waiting on the street.

He wasn't sure why, but he believed her.

"Then I will see you when you come back to me, Janelle!" He called after her departing figure.

* * * * *

Janelle sat in the front row of the sold out arena. Her heart pounded as she waited through the matches. At long last, the match she was waiting for arrived. Accompanied by his eerie music, the Undertaker made his way to the ring.

Janelle wasn't paying a lot of attention to the match. Her eyes were focused entirely on the Undertaker. She was so close to him, and it was entirely different than seeing him on TV. He was strong and quick, completely and utterly perfect.

He never lost control during the whole match, totally dominating the man he was wrestling until that man looked like a child. The match didn't last long, and the result was known to everyone far before the Undertaker tombstoned the kid and rolled him up for the pin. The crowd went wild, Janelle right along with them as the referee's hand slapped the canvas the third time.

* * * * *

The last match had ended and the crowds were finally thinning. Janelle didn't know what she was supposed to do. The Undertaker had not looked at her once the entire time he had been out and she was starting to think she'd made the whole thing up, perhaps even to the point of buying the tickets herself.

She sat there, thinking. The arena was completely empty now.

"Wow, I really need some help, I'd better go see a shrink." She muttered to herself. She gathered her purse and coat and stood.

As soon as she reached her feet, there was a rush or air and suddenly the space in front of her was not empty anymore.

Enormous hands reached out and grabbed her shoulders, and then she was somewhere else.

* * * * *

"You dare to doubt your Lord?"

The voice was booming and thunderous, coming from above her head. Something pushed her down until she was kneeling on a cold stone floor. It was too dark for her to see, but she could hear perfectly as he started circling her.

Her eyes gradually adjusted, and she could see him stop in front of her. He was fully clothed in his wrestling gear. She couldn't help but strain to see his strong tall form in the dark. Just the sight of him, the smell of him, was enough to have her aching to have him touch her.

He glared down at her and spoke again.

"You will never doubt me again."

He reached down and lifted her effortlessly to her feet. His eyes scanned her body and she wasn't entirely certain but she though he approved. When she had gotten dressed before the event she had made certain to clothe herself in the dark colours she thought he would approve of.

He moved back from her for a second, and she was able to see that she was in the place where he had last come to her in her sleep. She fell forwards onto the granite alter, feeling like someone had just proven to her that the sky was not actually blue but was instead blood red. She knew that people could not invade other peoples dreams. Dreams were not real...and yet...

She ran over to the door and looked outside. It was the same cemetery that had been in the first dream he was ever in. Suddenly the events of the last few months caught up with her and she screamed aloud in defiance.

"I will not be yours!"

He said nothing,only gestured and the metal door slid shut. He stalked slowly towards her, his eyes narrowed ominously. She knew that if she didn't get out, her soul was lost forever.

She flitted desperately around the room with him slowly following. She now knew how a mouse being stalked by a cat would feel. She could tell her was patiently waiting for her to tire herself out.

Inevitably he caught her. He wrapped his arms around her and held her to his chest. She was too exhausted to struggle. He sunk down onto his knees, pulling her down with him. He raised her face to his until their eyes met.

Looking into his eyes, she became aware of images in her head that were not her own. She knew that he was projecting them to her, and tears began to stream down her cheeks.

She understood without any words passing between them how lonely he was. She knew that in her he had found the only fitting companion for him in the world. Silently he offered her what he possessed, everlasting existence with him.

She shook her head.

"Oh Mark," She finally said, "I can't! I promised him I would come back!"

Into her head the words appeared.

"What has been done cannot be undone. You are mine."

He scooped her up into his large strong arms and carried her over to the altar again. He sensually removed her clothing, piece by piece until she stood bare in front of him. Knowing what she did, she knew that she should not allow this, but she found herself unable to resist touching his strong chest as he slid his shirt off.

He ran his hand gently over her face, and then bending down, kissed her. She felt any will to resist slip away as his kiss became more urgent.

He gently placed her on the alter and stripped off his leather pants until he was as bare as she was. He looked down at her and spoke to her again.

"I will not be alone anymore. The change has already begun to take place in you. When you die, you will inevitably come back to me. We are bound together."

He kissed her again. His cold hands traveled down over her face, trailing lightly over her neck and brushing her breasts. She arched her back so her breast filled her hand, moaning aloud as he massaged the orb.

His other hand moved further, trailing down her slightly rounded stomach and to the curls nestled between her legs. Slowly he slipped a cool finger down over her clit and inside her.

She gasped as his finger entered her. He soon joined it with another and she showed her delight by starting to move her hips. He broke the kiss and climbed onto the alter to join her. His deep voice filled the room as his fingers were filling her.

"He can have you for now. But I will come for you once he is gone."

He knelt on the rough stone between her spread legs and removed his fingers from inside her. She cried out desperately for him to fill her, and he did not disappoint.

He placed his large cock very carefully at her soaking wet entrance. The sensation was so incredible that Janelle couldn't wait any longer. She moved her hips desperately, hissing in satisfaction as he slipped inside her.

He played her body like a musical instrument. With his mind and body he forced her beyond what she had previously thought she could endure.

Finally, the sexual assault on her mind and body was too much and she went crashing down over the edge, shouting aloud as orgasm ripped through her body. Her hands pounded the stone and she spasmed around his manhood.

He pounded into her, giving her the release that she was so desperate for. They came together, her arms coming up to hold him close to her as he spilled his seed deep inside her.

He looked down at her, and for the first time, he smiled.

"For now your heart belongs to him, but for always your soul is mine."