DISCLAIMER: I don't own anyone in the WWF, if only in my dreams.
DISTRIBUTION: Go for it, just stamp my name on it and let me know.
RATING: PG-14
CONTENT: Sex scenes and language and violence
SPOILERS: None that I know of.
SUMMARY: The mother of all vampires makes a pit stop in the WWF and helps a few who've lost their way find it again.

Prologue:

Delilah watched from the rafters. Humans and their games, she thought with a smile. They had always thrived on violence. They professed their peace, wore it like a badge of honor and yet, throughout their history, they had found ways of justifying their thirst for violence. If they only knew…
Today, the gladiators of Rome had become wrestlers… or sports entertainers. She bit back a laugh. Transport them 2000 years into the path and they'd all find home in the Coliseum. And they thought they were civilized…
When would they learn that when they accepted the violence within, and only then, would they truly be civilized? For the time being, they were ignoring a very important aspect of their personality by pretending to be peaceful. Acceptance of violence would bring them to the truest meaning of civilization.
Delilah smiled. She was becoming much more of a thinker these days, less of a doer. But she strived for action… for something to interest her. Since the crusades, the world had become a very boring and dreary place. After all, after living for more than 2500 years, one did get bored.
She needed companionship. None of the ones she had made had survived more than five hundred years, killed by their own foolishness, by her hands or the hands of humans hungry to kill her children. But they had never caught her… nor would they. She had not lived this long to allow herself to be caught by puny humans.
She looked down at the ring and spotted a fine specimen of manhood. Tall, built like a Viking, with the golden coloring. His nose was a bit large but he made it work. She felt in him the violence that had made Vikings such dangerous rivals and her fangs grew lustfully. Oh yes, this one would do her quite nicely. But then… she felt a familiar presence… a presence long forgotten…
She watched him ride on his motorcycle and she felt something in her chest, something familiar… was it love? She had forgotten. Oh yes… it was him… he was the one she had loved so long ago… the one life had taken from her… he was the one who had made her hunger for more… he was the one she had been seeking for all these years…
Delilah came down from the rafters and made her way through the backstage area, bypassing guards who were too dumbfounded to stop her. Use of her telepathic powers came to her naturally, especially when the time came to get her own way. She picked up his scent, the scent she had never forgotten, and headed toward the room where his aura shone the brightest. But on the way, something stopped her… another voice, two voices actually, called out to her, their need for guidance imperative.
She stopped in front of a room and opened the door. There she found them. Two boys really, but of her loins, made by those who had been made by those she had made.
"You need me," she told them simply.
They looked at her and found in the response to the question they didn't know they had asked.
"You have names."
"I am Adam Copeland. I am also known as Edge."
"And I'm Jason Reso. They call me Christian."
"The human names, given to you by your… human family. You will discard them… you are only Edge and Christian, now and forever. Who is the one who made you?"
"David… Gangrel."
"Bring him to me."
As Edge scurried out to do the woman's bidding, she lay down on the couch and looked pointedly at Christian who ran out of the room to get her something to drink. She hadn't spoken the words but he had heard her need. She was sipping on the deep red wine when Edge brought Gangrel into the room. He, too, recognized the power of the woman and knelt by her side, his head bowed, as it should be.
"Are there more of you here?" she asked.
"None that I know of."
"Then you three will do. You were bonded before. You are no more. You will be again. Is that understood?"
"B-b-b-but… Vince… Mr. McMahon…"
"Do you dare to oppose me?" she asked.
"We will be bonded as before," all three men said.
"Good. You three are weak… you do not know the full extent of what you could become. You will learn from me."
"Yes."
"And I will join you, here, in this life."
"Yes… Mistress."
Delilah smiled… nothing felt better than mindless devotion when one was bored…

Part 1:

Delilah watched Edge lead the one called McMahon into the room and immediately knew he was not the one she wanted. This one's power was puppet power. She wanted the truly powerful one. But she would entertain this one… make him believe his power was more than it was.
"Shane," said Edge, "we'd like you to meet… The Mistress."
Delilah smiled at the shock in the young man's eyes at Edge's tone and at his choice of words and she grinned.
"But you may call me Delilah."
"Delilah… biblical name… are you as dangerous as the one who cut off Samson's hair?"
"Let's just say I've grown since."
Shane's breath caught… she couldn't mean she was the original Delilah, could she? That was ridiculous.
"Now, Adam, why were you so adamant I meet Delilah?"
"The Mistress…"
"Call me Delilah darling," she purred, beckoning the taller blond to her.
"Yes. Mistress… Mistress Delilah will join us in the ring," Edge explained, kneeling beside Delilah.
"As what?"
"Our Mistress," Christian said, grinning, "naturally."
"Your Mistress?"
"She can be nothing less than what she already is," explained Gangrel.
"You in on this too? What the hell? Do you guys wanna revive the Brood or something?"
"Yes," Delilah said, "reviving the Brood… with me as the mistress of this Brood."
"I'm sorry but the story lines we have set for you guys don't go that way at all."
"Your story lines must change."
Delilah got up and her long black jacket fell to the floor, revealing her long tight black dress. She walked up to Shane and circled him slowly. He watched her too, entranced by her blue-black hair, her startling green eyes, her luscious form… and her eyes… they were dotted with flecks of gold… enchanting really… captivating… hypnotizing…

"Shane, we can't do this… why put Kane in a match with… the New Brood? Since when does the WWF have a New Brood?" Stephanie asked, waving her brother's hasty script changes in his face. "I'm sorry but no!"
"Yes. You'll see… you'll understand… it's important…"
"Important? Shane, either you tell me why we're doing this or it's not going on the air!"
"Listen and listen carefully, you stupid little twit! The New Brood appears tonight! Now, you have a choice, you can go and find the Dudleyz and Kane and tell them they have a match or I will!"
Stephanie cowered at Shane's explosion of anger and nodded. "I'll tell them."
"Good!"
Stephanie scurried away and Shane stayed in his dressing room by himself, his chest heaving rapidly. He shook his head, trying to understand where his anger had come from. Last thing he remembered, Edge had come into his dressing room. And now, he'd just yelled at his sister about the New Brood? What New Brood?

"What do you mean my match is off?" Undertaker growled down at Shane McMahon. "I have a match for the number one contender spot against HHH tonight and I'm not going to miss it!"
"Yes, you are!"
"What? Boy, who the hell do you take me for? I'm not your pansy Kurt Angle! You CANNOT boss me around!"
"Get used to it! I am bossing you around! And your no. 1 contender shot is delayed!"
"Until when?"
"Until I say you deserve it!"
Undertaker looked down at Shane McMahon and suddenly saw steel in the boy. But where had that steel come from? Shane had been a coward all of his life. How dare he suddenly grow balls? He was about to ask that very question when Shane, the new, hard Shane, turned his back on him and walked out. But Taker sniffed the air in the boy's wake and found in it a scent too long forgotten.

"Your brother did what?"
"He said your match against the Undertaker would have to wait!"
"Wait for what?"
"Something to do with the New Brood."
"What the hell is the New Brood?"
"I don't know!" Stephanie wailed. "But he scared me Hunter… he looked at me and he scared me!"
"Your brother? He's a worse pansy than Kurt Angle! What do you mean he scared you?"
"I don't know… he just did."
Hunter gathered his wife in his arms and sighed. What the fuck was Shane-O up to now?

"Are you sure you don't want me to join you out there?" Shane asked. "Just to make sure everything goes according to plan?"
"No Shane," said Delilah, running her tongue over her growing fangs. "I'm sure I'll be just fine."
"Just be careful with Stacey. She can be a bitch."
Delilah laughed hoarsely and turned to Shane, a confident smile curving her blood-red lips, "I invented bitchiness Shane."

Gangrel's theme from WWF's AGGRESSION filled the arena and the lights went out in the arena. A line of flames surrounded the top of the ramp and four figures appeared, three familiar male shapes and one completely unfamiliar female one. The woman led the way down the ramp, her feet sure as she approached the ring. She was wearing a catsuit that looked like black rubber had been poured on her skin, her long black hair trailing down her back. She stood in front of the ring and her eyes drifted over the men in the ring. She turned to her blondes and nodded.
Right away, Edge, Christian and Gangrel rushed the ring, barely giving Lillian Garcia and Stacey the time to make their exits. Their attack was fierce, brutal and incredibly effective. Finally, referee Earl Hebner established a semblance of order and Christian was left alone with Kane. But Christian was fighting as he'd never fought before, without tiring, as if he no longer felt the Big Red Machine's hits. He tagged in his brother and together they worked Kane over until the big man begged for a tag.
Smiling sinisterly, Edge dragged the man over to his corner and allowed him to tag in D-Von. And then he got to work.

Backstage, Undertaker met up with Hunter as they were both headed to the control booth.
"Shane?" Hunter asked.
"Yes. The boy's been acting strangely."
"Scared the shit out of his sister."
"That does not signify. But he came to me… and he was stronger than I've ever known him."
"You mean like physically?"
"No."
Hunter nodded and opened the door to the control booth and found Shane inside, his eyes riveted to a small monitor. Both men followed his gaze and found themselves entranced in the match. The New Brood was decimating three of the biggest men in the WWF and there was no rhyme or reason to it. Physically, the blondes were no match for Bubba, D-Von and Kane, and yet… yet they were wiping the floor with them.

Outside the ring, Stacey's screeches started to wear thin on Delilah's nerves. She felt the other woman's overwhelming confusion and despair and she hated it. Not because of her part in her confusion and despair, but rather simply because she despised weakness. She padded across the ring until she stood next to the blond and anchored her fingers in her hair, pulling on her flaxen tresses.
"Get used to defeat," she whispered. "As of now, every time you come up against my boys, you will feel it."
Stacey screeched and Bubba looked down at the woman.
"Let go of her," he barked at Delilah.
"Why?" Delilah asked, her stomach clenching as she looked up at the burly man.
"Because I protect her."
"Against a little woman like me?" Delilah let go of Stacey and looked up at Bubba defiantly. "Show me how well you can protect your tramp!"
Bubba growled as he slid out of the ring and rushed Delilah who ran at him at full speed, leaping in time to plant her knee in his middle. She brought her elbow down on the nape of his neck and watched as his big body fell to her feet. Violence tasted so sweet. But then, a hand caught her hair and pulled her off her feet, jerking her into the ring.
Delilah came face to face with a masked behemoth and almost smiled when his gloved hand curled around her neck. She saw Edge, Christian and Gangrel turn to her, ready to attack and she mentally pushed them away. She wanted this.
Flying was heavenly, she thought when the behemoth lifted her off her feet and slammed her down in the middle of the ring. He moved away from her and she sat up immediately, her hair in disarray about her face. She wanted more.
But the referee rang the bell and the incredibly victorious New Brood was left to celebrate their victory as the vanquished left the ring in shame.

When Undertaker recognized her, his heart stopped beating and he rushed out of the control booth. He ran through the arena, making it to the top of the ramp just as Delilah was making her way up the ramp. Their eyes met and the sparks that flew between them could have lit up countries.

Part 2:

117 years BC, Rome

Delilah knew that fighting back was an option… but since the Roman centurions who'd captured her knew she had a reputation as a bloodthirsty savage, they were taking their precautions. The magistrate was afraid of her and so, he'd nimbly avoided her trial, preferring instead to declare her guilty of the almost seventy murders, without the benefit of a trial. A killer, a female killer, who'd taken down some of the most powerful men in Rome… such a killer was one they should rightfully fear.
And fear her they did, as she could see from the precautions they'd taken. During her daytime sleeps, they'd bound her neck with a thick band of steel, tying four chains to it… chains they'd bolted to the walls and that greatly restrained her movements… and kept her from effectively attacking her guards. She hadn't fed in so long she'd almost forgotten the taste of her last victim's life's blood.
"Come," said a centurion, signaling to four of his companions who each took a chain.
"Where are you taking me?" she asked before their pulling and pushing at her chains made her stumble to her knees.
"Shut up!"
By the time they had gotten close to the darkened room where she knew her executioner waited, Delilah was ready to face death. She'd lived many lifetimes over… had had a life most couldn't imagine… maybe her time had come.
Finally, she came into the room and inhaled the scent of blood that made the air tasty and pungent. The cold metallic smell… she sighed in delight as she remembered the warm taste of blood trickling down her throat, reviving her. She almost swooned.
"What's wrong with her?" the voice of the executioner boomed across the room to the centurions.
"Who knows? Who cares?"
"Where are her clothes?"
Delilah remembered… she was naked… and dirty… filthy… suddenly, the smell of her body filled her nostrils and her nose wrinkled in disgust… she stank… and yet… she was past caring. Soon, she would be dead and others would have to worry about her smell.
"Set her down."
Delilah raised her head and her eyes met with the greenest of greens, eyes like hers, eyes of a man who would recognize her for who she really was… through the black mask, the eyes shone as brightly as gems. And it came to her… she was not yet dead. Keeping her eyes on the man who might kill her, Delilah approached the anvil where her life might, or might not, end.
Markus looked at the woman… the feline litheness, the way she walked proudly… forgetting she was without a stitch of clothing. He nodded to the centurions and they picked her up, placing her neck across the slab of steel. He raised his large sword, stepping away from the block.
As he brought down the blade, she turned her head and their eyes collided. Eyes too similar to ignore the obvious kinship. Eyes too similar for them not to recognize each other's souls.
His large sword hacked and shopped quickly, making short work of the ten centurions gathered in the room. Then he came to Delilah who was still laid across the floor, knowing full well that death wouldn't find her tonight. Markus ran the bloody tip of his sword up her leg, over the smooth curve of her derrière and up the indentation of her spine until he came to her neck. Before she could react, his sword moved twice, shattering the locks that kept the crude necklace tight around her neck. Her fingers struggled to free her neck from the abrasive metal and she sat back on her haunches.
"I must feed," she said hoarsely.
Markus nodded and dragged a body over to her. The man wasn't dead yet but he would die soon. Delilah bent over him and bit into his neck. Markus watched as life returned to her body. Her skin became tauter, her muscles regained their tautness and more important of all, life and hope had returned to her eyes while the man who might have survived this night gave his life for her death.
"Why?" she asked, looking up at her would-be executioner.
"Because you are mine," he said simply, bending over and running his tongue over her bloody mouth, "now and forever."

Part 3:

"Delilah," Taker said, looking down at her.
"Markus."
"Come with me. Now."
Without a look to Edge, Christian or Gangrel, Delilah followed Markus into the backstage area, hating herself for her immediate submission to a being she could very well dominate. He led her into his dressing room, slamming the door after him, locking it. With a subtle mental push, he urged her to remove her clothes. Naked, she stood in the middle of the room, waiting for him to come to her. Pulled to her like a lodestone, Markus' clothes disappeared along the way until they both stood in front of each other.
Then, out of deference, considering the truth of Delilah's identity, Markus knelt in front of her and put his head to the side, presenting her with the gift of his blood. She accepted the gift and her fangs sunk into the impossibly soft skin, sucking the blood from his body until he felt himself grow weak with the loss. His mouth being at a level with her breast, his teeth worried the skin there, begging her for a symbol of the intimacy they'd once shared.
But Delilah wouldn't give him such a symbol. Instead, she curled her fingers into his short hair and pulled his head from her skin while she took more of his testament to his enslavement to her. Finally sated, she pulled away from him and presented him with the inside of her wrist. She saw his frustration as he ground his teeth and almost smiled. Drinking blood from an offered wrist was a slap in the face to a being as proud as Markus. But Delilah, being who she was, she was more than within her rights to ask for a sign of such mindless devotion. However, it didn't mean his protest would matter to anyone but himself, but it was made.
Delilah leaned over her lover and, with a strength he'd forgotten she had, she pulled him to his feet by his short hair.
"Are you refusing me?" she asked, her lips and teeth red with his blood.
"No."
"Have I become your equal my child?"
"No, Mistress."
"Our time apart has changed you."
"It hasn't changed your initial vow to me."
"I am yours Markus… but I have not lost my mind, nor have I forgotten my standing. I am Delilah, destroyer of Samson, mother of all drinkers of life, Goddess if the Blood…"
"And my mate."
"And your mate. Now take my token."
"I take orders from no one."
"What willpower," Delilah said lightly, moving to pick up her clothes.
"Where are you going?"
"You forget, oh mate of mine, I answer to no one."
Delilah opened the door and found Christian, Edge and Gangrel waiting for her by the door. Grel immediately moved to block Taker which only served to raise his ire. With a slowness that could have only been deliberate, she put her clothes back on, oblivious to the stares caused by her brazen display. With young Christian's help, she put her duster back on.
"Delilah."
Not acknowledging her lover's final plea, she walked away, her boots clicking loudly on the terrazzo floor, her puppets obediently trailing after her.
Taker watched her walk away and swore. It was then that his brother arrived, fury emanating from him much like a rose gave off a heavenly perfume.
"We must talk."
"Yes, we must."
Taker allowed his brother entry, locking the door one more time. He sat down, his nakedness forgotten.
"She is the one," Kane stated simply, not needing his brother to confirm his suspicions.
"You cannot do it."
"I will do it."
"You will kill my mate?"
"Your mate? She is your mate?"
"Yes."
"A killer?"
"You seem all too willing to forget that we both are killers brother."
Kane drove his fist into the wall, pieces of concrete flying across the room.
"I don't recall that being my choice."
"Well my apologies for saving your damn life!"
"Exactly… I was damned brother, meant to die… you took it upon yourself to change fate."
"Shall I make it up to you and kill you now?"
"You are such a giver…"
"You will not kill Delilah."
"I will, and I must."
"Why?"
"Why? You dare ask me why? My wife and child died by her hand."
"And we both know how the one you gave life to could have avoided such a fate."
"She did not understand…"
"What was so hard to understand? Yes, we can reproduce. No, we must not. Why? Because our children will destroy us and our kind. How often was she told?"
"Markus…"
"How often?"
"That's not the point!"
"What should be the point? Kane, you were there, the child was already killing her… eating her from the inside. Who knows what that creature could have
done to us?"
"That creature, this monster you speak of, was MY child!"
"Kane, that monster, what it could have done to us… Delilah didn't kill it for sport, she killed it because it was necessary. You have to know that!"
"I understand killing the child, but why kill Celeste?"
"Because she would have wanted another child and that was a risk none of us could have afforded."
"You'll defend her to the bitter end," Kane spat to his brother.
"As you did Celeste."
Kane growled at his brother. "Do not speak her name. You held me down while your mate murdered her."
"Because had I not done so, Delilah would have killed you for daring to interfere."
"For trying to save my family?"
"Face it Kane. We are killers. Killers do not have families. We find mates who understand and share our bloodlust. We do not procreate."
"Why not?"
"Think you Delilah did not know what she was doing? Think you this was Delilah's first experience with the abomination that is a vampire child? She had to kill a litter of the monsters born to the first human she had made. She had rejoiced in the creation until she saw the children turn on the one who had truly given them life and eat her flesh. She lost her first coven to the demons before she succeeded in killing them all."
"Why not tell us?"
"We do not deserve her explanations Kane. We are to follow her edicts."
"Mindlessly?"
"Without her, we would all be dead. So yes, mindlessly."
"Even you."
"Me more than anyone else."
The heat of his fury, of his anger abated, Kane left his brother alone with his thoughts of finally submitting to Delilah.

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