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blowflyfag · 8 months

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WORLD WRESTLING FEDERATION MAGAZINE : FEBRUARY 1999

THE MINISTRY OF DARKNESS

What is the Undertaker’s demonic vision?

By Bill Banks

As the new millennium nears, some people are convinced that the “end” is imminent. The proof, according to them, is everywhere in today’s culture–the music, television and movies. Nostradamus (1503-66) prophesied that by the year 2000, the decay of humanity would lead to Hell on Earth and the ultimate Apocalypse. Many people today are convinced of what he portended. “Prepare,” they say, “for Judgement Day is upon us.”

One can only imagine what Nostradamus would have thought of the World Wrestling Federation and the Undertaker in particular. The Phenom’s threat that the “Ministry of Darkness” would blanket the Federation in destruction has sent chills through a number of wrestling insiders. Is this the Undertaker and Paul Bearer’s macabre way of welcoming the Apocalypse? If so, have we yet to see the true evil within the demonic superstar?

Since his dawn in the Federation, the Phenom has been a sort of antichrist. Like the music of bands such as Type O Negative and Danzig, he has claimed his inspiration from the Dark Side, but he’s only touched on what that world is actually about. While fans have cheered the Undertaker for much of his career, some have forgotten what he stands for–everything that is pure evil.

In some instances, his powers were unexplainable. At the 1994 Royal Rumble, Yokozuna and a host of Federation Superstars locked him inside an air-tight coffin. As the seemingly lifeless tomb was hauled out of the arena, millions saw the Undertaker–or his spirit–levitate into the rafters. In October 1996, he was buried six feet under a makeshift grave site. To this day, no one can explain how lightning struck the tombstone inside the enclosed arena. And in one of the most horrific scenes in Federation history, Kane trapped the Phenom inside his casket at the 1998 Royal Rumble and charred it with a raging inferno. After extinguishing the flames, Federation officials opened the casket to find that the superstar had vanished.

Levitation, resurrection, surviving an inferno–each display of his unholy ability grows more hellish and unexplainable than the one before. What is feeding this core of evil inside him? Is it society’s deterioration or has the Undertaker finally succumbed to the ultimate evil–the Devil himself?

In demonology, the study of Satanism, experts believe that opening oneself to the Dark Side might invite possession by demons, known as incubi or succubi. It’s called demonic oppression or demonic invasion. According to occultists, evil spirits take over the body and mind and there is no guarantee of ever ridding them. Those who claim to have been possessed in this manner speak of “something inside them that takes over,” and often they believe they are Satan’s minions. Serial killers such as “Son of Sam” David Berkowitz and “The Night Stalker” Richard Ramirez claimed when they were apprehended to have been inspired by the devil. Seemingly harmless games and pranks involving chants and Ouija boards can even turn into something far more sinister. Other hardcore demonologists even believe that simply reading about the subject opens the door to the possibility of possession!

Perhaps the Undertaker has been living his lifestyle for so long that an unspoken evil is dwelling inside him. Demonologists also say that our state of mind–hatred in particular–can lead to possession. Who has been more embittered about being cheated out of the Federation Championship than the Phenom? Following years of festering ill will and unexplained occurrences might he have invited demonic incubi to grow inside of him? If so, are these forces about to manifest themselves in the Ministry of Darkness–led by a superstar who believes he’s a follower of the Devil himself?

Another aspect of Satanism is its variety of followers. Witchcraft, superstition, magic, and occultism are all aspects of it. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of demonic religions are based on these branches, with some of their followers pledging allegiance to the Devil. What if the Ministry of Darkness is the coming of the Undertaker’s apocalyptic religion? There are more dark forces in the World Wrestling Federation today then ever before. Would they open themselves up to possession by the Phenom? Or have they already? Is the Undertaker assembling an army to help carry out his apocalyptic desires?If he believes he is the ultimate demonic leader, would these superstars follow as his devoted parishioners?

Like Nostradamus, has the Undertaker seen the coming of the “end”? Is he involved in a dark and demonic world that we cannot even begin to comprehend? Although the prophet’s predictions are open to interpretation, the coming of the Ministry of Darkness is undeniable. With such power, perhaps the Man from the Dark Side is determined to make Nostradamus’ vision of Hell on Earth a hideous reality.

#wwf #world wrestling federation #wwf undertaker #The Undertaker #Ministry of Darkness #magazine transcript #wwf magazine #magazine scan

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thedeadmansgirl · 5 months

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A Chance to Start Over | Chapter 01

Pairing: Mark Calaway (The Undertaker) x Female OC (Mary)

Chapter Warnings: Minors DNI 18+ Only Smut.

Length: 859

Read on AO3 | Read on FFN | Next Chapter

Success comes in various ways and different levels, depending on where you are in life.

And if you ask Mark Calaway, the man known publicly as the Undertaker, what success is at this point in his life, it is watching his beautiful wife of nearly a year, Mary, coming into the kitchen from their backyard carrying in a basket full of fresh eggs on one hand and another full of vegetables on the other from their garden out back.

Had it been ten or fifteen years earlier, he would easily say it’s his career achievements, probably his wealth, and the love of any woman (and sometimes, several women at the same time) who’d give him their generous time to pleasure him. Now all that mattered was this gorgeous woman in front of him.

Mary smiled at her husband who’s sitting on a stool by the kitchen island, enjoying his morning coffee. She smirked at the look on his face and the growing tent in his dark gray sweatpants, the only clothing he has on him. ‘God, he’s beautiful.’ she thought to herself.

“Good morning.” She greeted him saccharinely instead as she placed the baskets by the sink. The towering man stood up and walked over his wife to kiss her passionately.

“Have I told you I love you today?” He whispered, his hand already under her shirt, traveling slowly up to her breasts, squeezing one as he nipped lightly on her earlobe, causing her to squirm a bit under him and let out a soft moan.

“As a matter of fact you did, twice before we left our bed this morning.” She replied, almost breathless as he began rolling her nipple between his thumb and index finger.

“Well, you might have forgotten darlin’. Let me remind you again.” He whispered and guided his wife to face the island counter, caressing her hips as she leant forward to rest her upper body on the marble top. He let out a gruff moan that made Mary bit her lip to suppress a smile, she knew what’s about to transpire and she’s almost antsy. He wrapped his arms around her waist and bent down to kiss the back of her neck, trailing down her spine.

Her breath hitched when Mark hooked a finger on the waistband of her sleep shorts and swiftly pulled it down, his other hand frantically pulling down his sweatpants just enough to free his hard and throbbing cock, leaking with pre-cum. He reached around her waist to run a finger through her slit and felt her already wet center. He groaned again as he collected her wetness to drag it back up her nub, circling it with a gentle pressure that had her gasping and moaning in pleasure.

“Mark.” She whimpered, “I need you inside me, please.” She begged and Mark let out a soft chuckle, kissing her temple as he did.

“So impatient.” He whispered but pulled back anyway to pump his cock a few times before aligning it to her warm entrance dripping with arousal and slowly pushed his way in, whimpering as he did. Mary closed her eyes; her brows knitted as her husband stretched her deliciously, her mouth falling into a small ‘o’ and whimpered as she felt him bottom out to the hilt, hitting that sweet spot inside of her.

Mark gripped her hips, sinking his fingers on her tanned skin a little too hard but Mary didn’t mind. Especially when he began to move in slow but hard thrusts, slowly picking up pace, and continued hitting that special place inside her that had her a whining mess in no time.

“Right there, right there!” She almost screamed. “Don’t stop, baby please.”

“I love it when ya beg.” Mark responded with less spunk as he wanted to as he, too, was almost lost in the sensation of her cunt swallowing his thick and long cock as if it were made to fit and live in there.

Mark gritted his teeth as he felt himself growing closer, letting out a slightly higher pitched moan than his usual baritone grunts. “I need ya to come for me, baby.” He told her, reaching back around her front to press gentle circles in her nub, helping her tip over to the edge.

“Fuck…” Mary whined as her back arched and her cunt clamped down on Mark’s cock, causing the huge man to let out a loud grunt, almost a growl, “Jesus…” He whimpered, “Come on, baby.” He urged her as he continued his ministrations to her nub and not long after she was clamping down even harder as she came really hard screaming his name.

It didn’t take Mark longer than a few more thrusts before he was burying himself deeper inside her, flooding her walls with thick spurts of his cum with a jolt. "Jesus Christ." He hisses, closing his eyes and resting his head on Mary's shoulder. “That’s a good way to start the week,” He grinned, cupping her face to turn her towards his, kissing her passionately.

“I love you, woman.” He panted against her lips and she smiled, “I love you, too, cowboy.”

Next Chapter

#wwf undertaker #wwf undertaker x reader #the undertaker #the undertaker imagine #the undertaker smut #wwe undertaker #american badass #the undertaker x female oc #undertaker imagines #undertaker fan fiction #The Undertaker imagines #The Undertaker Fan Fiction #the undertaker decimates rising wwe star in shock comeback #the undertaker and his pals #world wrestling federation

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andyisbleeding · 1 year

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Zombie Undertaker x Reader

Chapter 1. The Power

The back of the house in most arenas is a labyrinth of gray halls with gray floors and no windows. You'll find yourself walking in circles and still not getting anywhere new. Some passing doors had small name plates, mostly offices and janitorial closets. No help to you, of course. The show is somewhere different every night so there's no use trying to remember the floor plan of the arena. By the time the tour comes back around, you'll have been to 200 other stadiums in 200 other cities, an exhausting but exciting whirlwind of work.

You've been on tour for 6 months now. Finally having a handle on the day to day duties, you've almost been able to overcome the lack of sleep schedule with the help of daily energy drinks and sitting up naps in quiet corners. Friends were easily made, both crew and wrestlers know these are the only people you'll get to see for months at a time. This is your new family, you feel welcome. As long as you pull your weight and aren't a raging asshole, everyone gets along surprising well.

Of course people have their cliques and squabbles. Some fights do break out but most are warranted and broken up quickly by the rest of the boys. People make up pretty quickly, knowing that you can't get away from each other is the best way to snuff out that flame.

You continue to wander down the cement hallway, hoping that a sign or person comes along soon. It feels like you've walked the whole arena by now, 'how the fuck do you get back to the locker rooms?'

Stepping out to smoke a joint with the lighting crew seemed like a good idea at the time. The door locking loudly behind you was when you all realized you'd made a mistake.

"Who doesn't put a wedge in the door Dave!" The group tears into the rail thin man. "What is your first day?" "Narc!" "Fuck you Dave." You all erupt in laughter, slapping the man on the back.

You hear soft footsteps coming quickly towards you. The hallway finally coming to an end with only a right hand turn for a direction.

You turn the corner and come face to face, or perhaps belly to belly with Paul Bearer himself.

You stopped quickly to not run smack into the stout man and tried to side step out of his way. Two beady eyes scanned you up and down and made a snap decision. He arched his dark eyebrows at you and twisted his face into an all knowing smirk. "Lost your way little sparrow?"

You swallow hard and force a polite smile onto your face. No need to make an enemy of Paul Bearer, keeper and manager of The Undertaker. "Yes sir actually. Would you mind pointing me in the right direction?" You hold your breath.

Paul cocks his head ever so slightly. Taking in your request and rolling it around in his round head. He smooths out his mustache while he decides if he's going to answer. He looks you up and down again. You don't shy away from his gaze, making sure your eyes meet his when he studies your face. His face twists up again into an approving grin, he gestures behind him.

"Back the way I came," Paul said softly. "Two rights and you'll be back where you belong, little bird." He turned on his heel and went on his way. For a chubby guy, he was very light on his feet, you remarked to yourself. It must come with being a funeral director.

"Thank you!" You call after him. He doesn't seem to hear you or chooses not to respond, either way the encounter went well and you're no longer lost.

Paul's word was good, and in a matter of minutes you walk into the staging area. Stage hands and wrestlers lingering around monitors and craft service tables. A large digital clock blinked the time over head. 8:30 PM. The show had essentially just started. You'd be willing to bet that someone was probably still monologuing in the ring and the first fight hadn't even started yet.

You don't have much of a job during the show. You help with set up and tear down and occasionally help out the art department when they have an extra large job. Tonight was going to be a pretty quiet night. Maybe you'll find yourself a dark locker room and get a much deserved nap.

You decide to check the title card just to recheck the roster. You enjoy watching the fights but the chance to catch up on sleep is far and few between. Nothing pops out at you from the schedule so you wander back towards the locker rooms. People were scattered through the halls, leaning, laughing, talking business. A little bit of everything gets talked about when you spend 24/7 with the same group of people. No topic is off limits and no shame is known.

You walk past the bigger locker rooms. That's where people really congregate, mostly the wrestlers and managers but definitely no peace or quiet. A few of the guys have their own dressing rooms, those are labeled and almost always occupied and locked. You step up to the first door with no name tag. You knock softly as you twist the handle and crack the door. "Hello?" No response. You push open the door wide and glance around the room. Empty minus a loveseat and a small coffee table. No bags, no people, perfect.

You're tempted to lock the door but know that could end poorly. If someone comes looking, you need to actually be findable. You curl up on the love seat, facing the open room and cover up yourself with the flannel you had around your waist. You're a pretty light sleeper so when the taping ends and people get rowdy, you'll be up and ready for tear down. The love seat was lumpy and smelled like stale cigarettes but your eyes were heavy as soon as you were horizontal. You drifted away to the far away sounds of the WWF.

********

You shiver awake.

The whole room was freezing and foggy. You're surprised you can't see your breath as you sigh and bring your flannel tighter around you. 'Why is it so cold in here?' You think to yourself. You slowly bring your wrist to your face. The room is too dark and your eyes are still adjusting to being open again. Trying to read your watch was impossible. Your legs bump up against the coffee table as you put yourself upright. That's odd. The table wasn't that close when you laid down.

You feel his gaze before your eyes fully adjust to the dark room. Truly only lit by the hallway light coming through the thin door window, the corners of the room are pitch black. You look into the darkness in the far corner and it stares back at you. Silent and cold. Two piercing green eyes stare at you through a curtain of wet curly hair.

What little warmth you had left exited your body. A gasp escaped your lips as you realized who was standing in the shadows. There wasn't a name on the door. You're sure of it. No bags. Everyone had language, even him. There were no bags when you started your nap. No inkling of habitation. The room was too small to have overlooked anything.

The Undertaker took a stiff slow step towards you. His large frame, now outlined by the small strip of light coming through the door.

You stand up suddenly. Your legs are cold and numb but you've realized your mistake and now need a swift exit. "I'm so sorry Undertaker. I didn't know this was your room. There wasn't a name on the door." Your voice sounded small and far away. You clear your throat. "Sorry again. Let me get out of your way."

The Undertaker took another step forward. He hasn't blinked. You realize he's a full foot taller than you, maybe even more. You notice how sore your neck is from your little nap as you look up at him. He's still in his wrestling gear. Was he waiting for you to leave to change? Why hadn't he woken you up and kicked you out? Paul Bearer. Paul Bearer was the doer. He controlled The Undertaker, or at least claimed to. But Paul was absent. Maybe he sent Undertaker to the locker room on his own.

You've been frozen to the spot ever since you stood up. All the thoughts running through your head distracted you and he had stepped towards you again. Now you're face to chest with the Undertaker. His neck craned downward towards you, the never ending stare still taking you in. He smelled like wet earth after a fall rain. You couldn't hear him breathe. You couldn't feel any body heat coming off of him. You wondered if his skin would be cold to the touch.

Your hand twitches. Why do you want to touch him so badly? You picture touching his bare chest and then sliding down his stomach. Your face is red and warm now with embarrassment, at least mostly. You remind yourself how you remarked on how handsome he was when you saw your first fight as crew. His red beard covered a square jawline, constantly clenched and almost never moving. His sad green eyes had lost their light sometime long ago. Maybe back when he was alive.

He must have seen your hand twitch, or maybe he saw your face suddenly turn red in the freezing room. A purple gloved hand slowly made its way towards your bare forearm. You don't shy away as the cool leather touches your skin. His fingers wrap around your wrist, tightening slowly like a constricting snake. You tilt your head back to look into the Deadman's eyes. His expression hasn't changed but his gaze moved away from your face and onto your wrist and his own hand. He was holding you tightly but it didn't hurt. You're not sure if you could pull away even if you wanted to. He was the strongest man in the WWF and you'd seen him take apart people 3 times your size.

His eyes snap back to yours.

His stare is too intense, so you drop your gaze to his pale lips. They look soft and you wonder how they'd feel against yours. How they'd feel against your neck and then your chest and you suddenly realize your panties are wet. Your face burns even warmer in the cold room, a beacon in the darkness. You pray he can't read minds, he is supernatural after all. Being dead seems to come with a few good perks so why not telepathy? You find yourself wanting to lean against his huge frame. You want your lips against his and his hands on more of you than just your wrist. You look back into his eyes, trying to tell him everything you were thinking in just a look. You could kiss him if you go on your tiptoes, you think. You look at his lips again. Neither of you have moved since he grabbed your wrist.

Unsure where you found the courage or maybe the audacity but you couldn't stop yourself. You make yourself as tall as possible and put your lips against his. His lips are cool but not cold and surprisingly soft. His ginger beard scratched against your chin. He hasn't moved. You realized you closed your eyes as your lips met. Do you dare open your eyes? Could you take the emerald stare and rage probably growing on the Undertaker's face? No. You really couldn't. You feel stupid. Having a crush. Kissing a man you've never had a conversation with let alone a dead one. You start to pull away and the grip on your wrist tightens.

Your eyes snap open in shock. You're met with his dark eyes closed and his face moving closer to yours. His lips are back against yours, the deadmans kiss was unsure. He seems to be taking your lead, he's out of practice perhaps. You press your body against his and lean into his kiss. He fells so good against you. You shift your mouth on his and your noses bump against each other. You're so wet you're worried about it showing through onto your jeans. You want him to touch you all over. You want him to kiss you all over, to tear your clothes off, to pin you against the wall and fuck you until you scream.

The Undertaker pulls away suddenly, returning to his full height and taking a large step away from you. Your wrist is hot where his tight grip was. Your body is vibrating. You snap back to reality as you realize he's no longer against you. You wonder why the abrupt halt and immediately find out why. The door opens swiftly, almost like it was kicked open. The light switch clicks on and you go momentarily blind.

"Taker, why are you in here? Your room is down the… hall…" Paul Bearer's voice fills the little room. High pitched and doating, his sentence slowly came to a stop. Your eyes were still adjusting but you could feel his puzzled stare on your red checked face. "What are you doing in here little bird?"

You decided the truth was the best answer, up to the kissing part anyway. "I came in here to take a nap during taping. There wasn't a name on the door. I woke up a few minutes ago and he was just… here." You gesture to the big man, still as a statue. "I was just leaving, I need to go start tear down."

Paul's face twisted around as he spoke. His chubby fingers tapped on the gold urn tucked in the crook of his arm. Paul looked from you to the Undertaker and then back to you. He glanced at his watch dramatically and let out a sigh. "You still have a half hour until you tear down. You stay here little sparrow. Taker and I will find our way to OUR locker room." The stout man gestured at the Undertaker to follow him and then swiftly turned on his heel and retreated from the room.

The Undertaker's eyes cut into you once more. You look up to meet his gaze, holding it for a moment. You swear you can see a twinge of red on his lips, warmth transferred from yours. His right arm crossed over and straightened the glove on his left hand. The hand that had held you tightly, the glove being the only thing between your skin and his. His stare dropped to your lips until he turned to follow Paul. To follow the gold urn. To follow the power.

#wwf undertaker #wwf undertaker x reader #undertaker #undertaker x reader #smut #chapter 1 #fan fiction

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machobusta · 1 month

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The Undertaker makes his entrance for his match against Giant Gonzalez. WrestleMania IX April 4, 1993

#The Undertaker #WWF #WWE

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glitterxdeath · 3 months

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don't you just hate it when your brother disrupts your satanic embalming rituals??

(sound on pls)

#the undertaker #kane #paul bearer #wwf #professional wrestling #1990s #90s wrestling #wrasslin #shitpost #video #raw is war #monday night raw #attitude era #wwe #wrestling

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blondetaffy · 5 months

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this segment always comes back to my mind when I least expect it

#stone cold steve austin #the undertaker #kane #kurt angle #chris jericho #wwf #wwf attitude #world wrestling federation #steve austin #*video

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take-taker-taken · 8 days

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I’ve been wanting to GIF this for ages.

#the undertaker #undertaker #this character lives in my head rent free #wwe #wwf #shawn michaels #the heartbreak kid #heartbreak kid #HBK #oh Shawn #he’s having so much fun playing dress up

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livfastdieyoung69 · 10 months

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90s WWF Superstars in the style of characters in a graphic novel

#wwf #NOT MY WORK!!!!!#by kayfabe kreators on tiktok!#wwe #livs live cam;*!#hbk #shawn michaels #sting #mankind #undertaker #sable #triple h #kane #the last three 🤭🤭#not my work #possibly AI? found on tiktok

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salirophiliac · 2 months

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the undertaker

wwf raw is war — june 23, 1997

#the undertaker #wwe new generation era #wwe raw #wwe #wwf #wrestling #wwe gifs #my gifs #*taker

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solo-uno · 1 month

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Run this back 💀💀💀

#ayo🧐#shawn michaels #the undertaker #wwf #wwe #hbk #ground zero: in your house

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namcomuseumonline · 7 months

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"mmmmmm baddass"

#ai #wwf #wwe #the undertaker #mmmmmm wouldnt wanna mess with him

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blowflyfag · 7 months

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WORLD WRESTLING FEDERATION MAGAZINE : OCTOBER 1997

#wwf #world wrestling federation #wwf undertaker #90s undertaker #wwf magazine scan #wwf ad

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thedeadmansgirl · 5 months

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A Chance to Start Over | Chapter 04

Pairing: Mark Calaway (The Undertaker) x Female OC (Mary)

Chapter Warnings: Minors DNI 18+ Only. Divorce, labor, water (amniotic sack) breaking, douche Mark, cheating spouse, still born, pregnancy, death from childbirth (not OC)

Length: 1560k

Read on AO3 | Read on FFN | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Mark was sitting comfortably in his recliner in the den, a beer in hand, while he flipped through the channels. He had got back home from another work trip three days ago, and he barely even moved from his spot. Only getting up to go to the bathroom or get another bottle of Shiner. It would still be another few weeks before he had to go back on the road again, he figured since he basically ruined his second chance at happiness, he’d just drown himself in beer.

He had time to let his thoughts and feelings sit and simmer. And he could never deny the fact that he loves Mary so much, and regrets saying the things he said. But at the same time, he didn’t want the heartbreak of losing another child, whether from life or its paternity.

Christ. He thought, if only Mary would see it from my eyes.

Just then, his doorbell rang. Then it rang again, and again. He cursed as he got up, taking long strides to the front door.

“HAVE YOU NEVER SEEN A DOORBELL IN YOUR GODDAMN LIFE?” He bellowed as he opened the door and was surprised to see Mary, sweating, huffing and red. Probably from the Texan summer heat.

“What the hell are you doin’ here?”

She pushed her way in, ignoring her ex husband’s question. She walked through where she knew he’d have the air conditioner turned on behind the couch. She stood there and for a few seconds felt relieved by the cool air blowing on her face directly. Mark watched her with amusement and surprise, he cannot deny the fact that she looked good in the yellow sundress that clings to her bump, and hugs her breasts that are so much fuller now. He felt his cock twitch in his jeans.

He tried to shake the thoughts away, reminding himself why they are in this situation in the first place. Then Mary turned back to look at Mark, and shoved an envelope to his chest. .

“Please sign the fucking divorce papers.” She begged the towering man who just looked down at her in surprise. “This is the fifteenth time, Mark. Please just sign it. It’s the right one. I made sure they removed the child-support clause.”

Mark was stunned and absentmindedly clung to the envelope. It still feels so weird to him seeing her pregnant, and she has gotten bigger since he last saw her, and he didn’t understand why he was feeling the way he does, blaming it on the summer heat. He gulped as he scanned her body and saw the quick shift in Mary’s expression, insecurity, he told himself. He knew that look so well, and it only strengthened his case when she pulled her dress further down her bump and straightened her back.

Her breath suddenly hitched. She winced, gripping the back of the couch, but quickly schooled her expression to look as neutral as possible but Mark caught that.

“I figured you wanted your lawyer to look at it so I waited but after not hearing from you nor any lawyer on your end—” She stopped mid-sentence to take a few short breaths through her nose as she bit her lower lip.

“What’s the matter Mark? What do you need me to add or remove from it? I can have my lawyer create a new draft. Do you want the beach house in Florida?” She continued soon after.

Mark realized he hadn’t spoken and shook himself off his daze, “I-I don’t need the beach house.” He began and her brows just furrowed and she took a deep breath, her grip on the back of the couch was turning her knuckles white.

“Then…what…do…you want?” She asked through gritted teeth.

“I want you back, that’s what I want! But–but this… honey, I–I can’t…” Mark stuttered, gesturing at her bump.

“So what are you saying?” She glared at him, and Mark couldn’t understand why she was huffing. She must be really mad at me for not signing the divorce papers right away. He thought.

“I’m saying that we can still make it work, y-you and I can still be happy together… you can–put your baby up for adoption or something then–”

“WHAT THE HELL DID YOU JUST SAY?”

Mark stepped back and felt like he had shrunk a few feet down. He just realized what he told her and now she’s even madder. With a hand on her bump and a finger poking on his chest, she hissed, “Sign. the. goddamn. papers. NOW!”

“Now hold on a minute, we never had the chance to talk this out. Technically, we’re still married–”

“We don’t need to talk about anything about this. We were only married on paper and in the sack, you made it clear when I left. If you’re saying all this now just to get your dick wet, you’re asking the wrong person. Go fuck someone else.”

“Ya think I’d want you back just to fuck you–”

“It doesn’t matter now, just sign it so it could all be over and I’ll disappear from your life just like she did.” She pushed the envelope further into Mark’s chest and returned to grip the back of the couch trying to even her breathing, one hand still on her bump.

She knew what she said was too harsh and she saw the hurt etched in his face.

“Fine!” He snapped and ripped the envelope open, pulling out the documents. He looked around searching for something and then he looked at Mary. “What?” Mary asked in a hiss.

“Pen?” He asked, matter of factly. “Goddamn it Mark! Bottom drawer of that desk–” She was going to point at the desk by the den when she let out a loud groan of pain.

"What's wrong? Tryin' fake pains to get me to sign the papers quicker?" He snorts. "Should have led with that--"

“Shut the fuuuuck uuuuuuuppppp.” Mary moaned in pain, forcing her knees to bend slightly to a squat as the pressure grew stronger towards her center. She tightly gripped the back of the couch for support while she gasped for breath.

“I- fuck-“ The sound of water trickling down the hardwood floor “Oh for fuck’s sake!”

Mark's eyes widen in surprise and, quite frankly, nervousness, as he looks down, swallowing harshly as he realizes Mary's water broke.

"Well shit, I think your water broke.” Mark stood there wondering what the fuck to do.

“Yeah, no shit Sherlock.” Mary glared at him, letting out a long breath as the contraction eased.

“You need to go to the hospital.”

“You think I don’t know that? Just sign the goddamn papers, Mark and mail it to my lawyer first thing in the morning.” Mary replied, heading for the door brushing past Mark on her way out.

“What the hell are you doing?” Mark asked in confusion, surely she’s not going to drive herself to the hospital, is she?

Mary turned back to face him from the porch with a scowl, “What the fuck do you think?”

“Good grief, woman. It’s not safe, you’re in pain. Let me at least drive you.” Mark responded a little irritatedly, grabbing his keys and wallet from the console table in the doorway.

“No!” Mary held up her hand before Mark could cross the threshold. “I-it’s alright, Mark. Y-you get on with your day. I’m gonna be fine.”

“No, you’re not fine, I–”

“Really, please, I insist. I-I can do it. I know you don’t want—to be in this situation in the first place. I-I can do it.” Mark saw her trying her best to school her expression, but he knew she was in pain. Despite that, Mary still mustered up a smile that was meant to reassure him and his heart just dropped and shattered.

He could only frown at the fact that she thought that she’s bothering him and he realized just how much he fucked things up with Mary.

Mary is the type of person who always keeps to herself and does her best to do things on her own, regardless if it’s hard or painful, because she doesn’t want to bother anyone. A rough childhood with a narcissistic mother who tells her that she’s a mistake did that to her, and if Mark felt horrible after realizing just exactly how much he fucked things up with his wife, he can’t imagine her ever forgiving him now.

But he will never forgive himself if anything were to happen to her and there was something he could do to help it. He watched Mary waddle towards her car, but almost doubled over in pain before she could open the door, holding on to the handle as she felt the baby shifted lower. Mark rushed to her side as she gasped in both panic and pain, pleading with her. “Come on Mary, please. Let me drive you to the hospital. You’re in no shape to do it by yourself. Just–Just think of the–your baby’s safety. Yeah?” Mary was panting slightly as she looked up at Mark’s emerald eyes, and nodded and muttered a pained “O-okay.”

“Alright, alright. Let me help you in.” Mark guided her towards the passenger side of her car and helped her settle in before running to the driver’s side and wasting no time to drive her to the hospital.

Next Chapter

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