I'm trying my hand at writing more than one story at once. This was an idea spawned from the Ministry of Darkness storyline from twelve years ago. I always thought that it could have gone further than it did, and the ultimate reveal – that Vince McMahon was behind it all, just to screw over Steve Austin—was an epic fail. I also wondered what would have happened if the Black Wedding hadn't been ended like it did. So, without further adieu, here's my foray into the MOD universe.

BTW, this story's part kayfabe, part real, so Vince is known by Vince, Stephanie's known by Stephanie, Undertaker is both Taker and Mark, Steve Austin is Steve Austin, and Hunter is Hunter.

Into The Dark

By Debwood 1999

Chapter One

Providence Civic Center

Backlash, 4/25/99

",,,Everything's gonna be fine," said Vince McMahon to his young daughter. They were standing in front of a waiting limo parked near the back entrance of the arena. Four police officers stood nearby to ensure that the young woman was safely bundled off before the main event match of the night started. "Just wait for me in the car, okay?"

Stephanie McMahon nodded quietly, looking every bit the part of the obedient daughter.

Vince continued. "And, uh...gimme a kiss." Stephanie pecked her dad on the cheek. "We'll be on our way to Hartford right after this is over, okay?"

"I love you, Dad."

Vince ushered Stephanie into the waiting limo. "I love you too. Stay right here. Atta girl." He closed the door and turned to Providence's finest. "You guys, please keep a really good eye on her, and I'll be right back as soon as this match is over. We'll be right out of your hair, okay? Thank you..."

~~~MOD~~~

Half an hour later, Stephanie was engaged in small talk with the cops guarding the limo. One of the officers was talking about how big a fan his little boy was when the doors to the arena suddenly swung open with a loud bang!

"STEPHANIE!" growled a loud, booming voice. Stephanie glanced over her shoulder and gasped. The Acolytes, Farooq and Bradshaw, charged towards the limo, still in their wrestling gear. Heart pounding, Stephanie leaped back into her seat and rolled up the limo window.

Everything happened at once. Three of the cops rushed the Acolytes and kept them at bay. The fourth cop pounded on the roof of the limo, shouting at the driver to "Go! Go! Go! Go!" The limo squealed out of t he parking lot and sped away from the arena.

As the vehicle rushed down the street, Stephanie shouted frantically, "Stop! Stop, driver! Driver, stop! Wait for my dad! Driver!"

A second passed. Then, the little door separating the driver from the passenger slid open, and a face that to most looked like it came straight out of a nightmare leered at the young woman.

"Where to, Stephanie?"

"DAAAD! DAAAAD!"

The Undertaker howled in laughter as he drove off into the night, a screaming Stephanie McMahon in the backseat. Vince McMahon's youngest child, his daughter, had just been kidnapped by the one man he hated and feared the most.

~~~MOD~~~

Hartford, CT

4/26/99

A weary and anguished Vince McMahon climbed out of the limo after it pulled into an underground parking lot. A black briefcase was clutched in his hand, and the stress of the past twenty-four hours was etched across his face. Jerry Brisco and Pat Patterson, Vince's two right-hand men, accompanied him as he trudged into the arena. Jerry patted Vince on the back in reassurance.

~~~MOD~~~

"You know Vince, I think you should call the cops," Pat suggested, cautiously.

Vince, who had been pacing the floor, turned on his heel. "No!" he spat.

"Why not?" Pat asked, raising an eyebrow. The three of them were sequestered in an empty locker room, away from the crowd and the other wrestlers. Vince didn't have the time, patience, or energy to face anyone at the moment. Stephanie's abductor had instructed Vince to go to this room and wait.

"We're not gonna call the cops. We're gonna do it his way," Vince said, matter of factly. Vincent Kennedy McMahon was a hard-nose, and no amount of persuasion would convince him to do otherwise. Besides, he figured, calling the cops would be considered a sign of weakness, something that after the past few weeks, he wasn't about to show again. "I brought everything he asked me to bring. I've got all the papers, they're signed and in the briefcase. I'll give them to him." A sigh. "I just want Stephanie back. No cops."

Jerry shook his head. "Vince, how are you going to trust him? How are you going to trust this man?"

Vince paused. "I don't know that I can. But I guess I don't have an alternative now, do I? But if that bastard, in any way, has harmed Stephanie..." he let out a sigh and put his head in his hands, unable to finish the threat.

Jerry gave his boss a reassuring pat on the back. "Vince, it'll be okay."

The night dragged on. Eventually, the three men managed to find some folding chairs and were sitting down. Before he sat down, Vince took off his jacket, and now he had his head in his hands and was shaking it a lot.

"Oh, god," he sighed. Before he left his hotel, Vince received a call from his daughter's kidnapper, instructing him to wait by the phone for his next call.

"I hope he calls soon," Pat said.

"He'll call," Vince said back, his voice short.

"Vince, Stephanie's gonna be okay," Jerry reassured him, patting him on the back.

"I'm glad you're here. What a nightmare."

"I know, Vince."

"All this waiting."

"Long night."

Finally, the phone rang, interrupting the tension. Vince sprang up to answer it. "Hello?"

"Vince, you know who this is."

"I know who this is," replied Vince. He could identify The Undertaker's raspy voice anywhere. "Just tell me, how's Stephanie."

"She's fine, Vince," Taker drawled. "As a matter of fact, she's reaaaal fine. And you know what I've got, and you know what I want."

"Listen. I brought everything, just like you said. You've got controlling interest. You've got it signed, sealed...now I want Stephanie back, and I want her back NOW."

"Oh, you've planned ahead. I like that. Once I get those documents, Stephanie will be returned unharmed. But, if you slip up just once, you'll never see your precious little girl again."

Vince clenched his fists. "If you so much as harm a hair on her head," he snarled, "So help me, you son of a-"

Taker chuckled. "Now Vince, is that any way to talk to your daughter's soulmate?"

Vince flinched at the mention of the word "soulmate."

"You just give me those documents. Deliver them, at 10 pm sharp, by the loading dock of the Grand Chalet Hotel parking garage." A pause. "Oh, there's one more thing."

"What?"

"I don't want you to deliver them, Vince. I want Steve Austin to bring them to me."

"WHAT?"

"Alone."

"I, I can't. I can't ask Austin to do that."

"That's your problem."

"Now, wait a minute-"

"Vince. Your problem, not mine," Taker said one last time before the line went dead.

"No! It's...hello? HELLO?" Vince slammed the phone down. "Son of a..."

Jerry and Pat looked on, wanting to reassure their boss, but thinking better of it.

~~~MOD~~~

Slowly, Vince trudged towards the ring, where Steve Austin was celebrating his title win with his fans. Steve glanced over and eyed his boss suspiciously. Anyone who was a fan knew that the animosity between Vince and Steve was long-standing and well-documented.

"I don't mean to interrupt," Vince started, carefully. "But, I guess maybe I do. This isn't easy for me but...what I'm trying to say is...well, to make a long story short...I need your help."

Steve shook his head in disbelief and paced the ring. "You said, what? You need my help, is that what you said?"

Vince nodded. "I need your help. The Undertaker has kidnapped my daughter Stephanie, and I need your help."

"Okay, you gotta clear this up exactly for me. What are you trying to say? Just go ahead and say something, 'cause you ain't making no sense."

Vince appeared to carefully chose his words. "Well, this isn't...it's, it isn't anything personal. I know that you don't like me, and I know you never will. And the feeling is somewhat mutual. But it's not about you and me. This is personal, and it involves my daughter Stephanie, and Austin, you can help me."

"Well, with all due respect to you and your little daughter...hell, I got a million problems of my own. So as far as I'm concerned, I really don't give a damn about your problems."

Vince shook his head. The words came out in a rush. "Austin, The Undertaker has made...he's made some demands. He's asked for some documentation, and that's alright with me. I don't care about the documentation, but he's made other demands. He's demanded that instead of me delivering the documentation to him, he's demanded that you deliver the documentation, and if you do that, I really believe everything will be fine with my daughter, and I think you can understand my point of view as a father."

"So, what you're saying is that Vince McMahon needs Stone Cold Steve Austin, that's what you're saying."

Reluctantly, Vince nodded.

"So, if that's true, that Vince McMahon needs Stone Cold Steve Austin, then that's what I want you to say to me. Say to me, 'Vince McMahon needs Stone Cold Steve Austin."

A tense silence passed before Vince managed to say, "Vince McMahon needs Stone Cold Steve Austin."

Austin nodded. "Vince, I never forgot one single thing that's happened to me in the WWF. So, Vince, since you need me, then I'll say this. By the same token, I need you to kiss my ass." At those words, the crowd went nuts. "And that's the bottom line, 'cause Stone Cold said so!"

Vince's shoulders slumped in defeat. Dejectedly, he walked back to the locker room.

~~~MOD~~~

Back at the locker room, Vince, Jerry and Pat stood, looking defeated. "What are you going to do?" Jerry ventured.

"What else can I do? I'm gonna deliver it myself," Vince answered, his voice resolute.

"Don't you think we should go with you?"

Vince's voice held no room for argument. "No!"

"Be careful, Vince," Pat warned.

Vince shook his head. "He asked for Austin, and Austin's not coming," he muttered, more to himself than to his companions.

Jerry chimed in. "Be careful."

"I've gotta do it myself," Vince sighed. Briefcase in hand, he left, oblivious to the uttered goodbyes of his righthand men.

It would be a fool's errand. Vince wound up pacing the loading dock of the agreed upon location. He watched 10 pm come and go before giving up and going back to the arena.

~~~MOD~~~

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: I used much of the dialog between Vince, Jerry, Pat, Austin, etc. from the 4/26/99 episode of RAW. I'm trying to keep as close to the actual storyline and episode for that day, but once this picks up, it's gonna deviate quite a bit from the original storyline

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