Christian saw the stunned look on his brother's face, and couldn't help but notice Gangrel's angry expression. The youngest member of the Brood wished he could tell them why this was happening, but he didn't dare speak. Instead, Christian could only glare at Vince McMahon's back as the Corporation and their 'newest acquisition' left to the backstage area.
Edge clenched his fists in anger. His own brother, Corporate. The Enigma barely resisted the urge to pummel the person closest to him. Christian stared at the monitor longingly as Gangrel and Edge battered the DOA into oblivion. He wanted to be out there, but he knew that he belonged, much as he loathed it, at Mr. McMahon's side. If he didn't obey the owner, then his brother would be annihilated.
TWO WEEKS AGO
The Brood were enjoying themselves in a Gothic club. Christian had just left his friends' sides for a moment when a monstrous hand clamped down across his mouth and throat. It was Paul Wight Despite his struggles, Christian was all but carried back to the arena. Courtesy of the Big Show, Christian was barely conscious, his lungs straining from the lack of oxygen. Eventually, Wight dropped him into a nearby chair. Vince McMahon smiled at him cordially.
"Christian," he began. "I have an offer for you. And no doubt, once you hear it, you won't be able to refuse." Christian just scowled at the man, refusing to dignify him with a response. If McMahon noticed, he didn't care. "Listen up and listen good. I own this Federation and everyone in it, and that includes you ... and your brother." That got his attention. "Now you work for me, or I set Edge up in a handicap Hell in the Cell match against every member of the Corporation. He won't last five minutes. And if your fanged friend tries to interfere, then his ass will be fired on the spot. In fact, I think I'll let him watch." "Why me?" Christian asked. He was still trying to rid himself of the ghastly mental picture McMahon's words had invoked. "You may not realize it, but you're the only reason that there is a Brood." Vince's smile widened. "Besides, I could use an athlete like you on my side. So, are you with me, or should we prepare for a Bloodbath of an entirely different variety?" With that, McMahon stuck out his hand. Christian glowered at him for a moment longer, but the image of Edge's battered body refused to let him be. He gripped the hand with enough force to break several small bones.
PRESENT
During the Warzone, Christian won the Intercontinental title away from the Road Dog. The victory was hollow one and left a bad taste in his mouth. The reality of his situation hit him when Christian forced himself to celebrate not with Gangrel and Edge, but with Triple H and Chyna.
PART TWO
Christian was forced to keep himself away from his real teammates. He was never left alone in the locker room and even had to endure the indignity of splitting a hotel room with at least one member of the Corporation present at all times. An hour before Heat, Christian made eye contact with his brother from across the hallway. In a single look, the young man tried to explain the situation. But Edge only glared at him coldly before stalking away. McMahon, who had observed the exchange, smiled evilly. "Even if you could talk to them, they wouldn't believe you. You're mine now, Kid. Don't you forget it."
Standing with the Corporation on Sunday Night Heat that evening, Christian learned whom his opponent would be for later that night. His own brother. Edge attacked him with wild abandon, before he could even open his mouth to explain. Christian for the most part, tried to avoid the blows. McMahon can do anything he wants to me, Christian thought bitterly, but he'll never make me hurt my brother. Edge, I wish you'd understand that I'm doing this for you. There's no other way, I'm so sorry. When Edge tossed him over the tope rope, Christian was provided with a solution. The idea had barely come to him, when Edge landed a vicious moonsault. The back of Christian's head struck the railing. He didn't even have to feign unconsciousness. Oddly enough, the person who stopped the match was the last person he had expected mercy from, Shane McMahon.
Fighting Christian had been more painful to Edge than he was willing to admit. He thought they had come to an understanding. Gangrel was also troubled by Christian's actions. Neither man could understand what had driven him to side with the Corporation. Just the thought of Christian, standing with the Corporation, celebrating the win of the Intercontinental title, had driven the Enigma to the brink of rage. Edge felt a twinge of guilt when he remembered the sight of his younger brother being helped to the back by none other than Shane McMahon.
During the past two weeks, the heir apparent was the only one who bothered to treat Christian with any respect. Shane had even backed up Christian when he refused to wear a suit and tie or cut his hair. Tonight, it was Shane's turn to make sure the Intercontinental champion didn't try to contact the Brood. It was around three a.m. when Shane grabbed Christian's arm. The movement jerked him awake. "We just might have a mutual friend." Shane told him from out of the blue. "I doubt that." Christian retorted bitterly. "We don't hang out in the same kind of clubs." "Yeah, but Starr never did hang out in one spot, did she?" There was a wistful smile on Shane's face. "How do YOU know Starr?" The younger man demanded, now facing Shane. "We went to school together." Shane replied. "But that's not important now. Listen up, I just need you to play along with my father's game for another week or so. I'm working on new contracts for you and the others, insuring something like this can't happen again."
"Why are you helping me?" Christian asked, his tone quiet. "Did you ever stop to think that maybe you weren't the only one stuck in this boat?" Shane asked, anger creeping into his voice. "There's nothing I can do for myself, but hell, if I can help you, why not?" "Will the others need to sign their contracts, because they don't trust either of us right now." For the first time in three weeks, the Intercontinental champion's voice wasn't laced with fury. "I haven't thought that part through yet. But once they do, you can ditch the Corp for good, you won't have to worry about you of the others being roped back in. This contract will be ironclad." "Haven't you ever tried to get out?" Christian suddenly felt a kinship with the younger McMahon. "There's no chance for me to leave." Shane told him. "My father watches me like a hawk. The others can't stand me, so the Corporation is the only place for me. I act like I fit in because I have no choice but to fit in." The youngest member of the Brood thought for a moment. His idea was ludicrous, but it was the only thing he could think of. "You've helped me so much right now." The Goth began. "I'd like to return the favour." Shane picked up on where this conversation was going. "You can't be serious." He told him with a nervous laugh. "This would never work." "There are a lot of advantages to the Gothic lifestyle." Christian told him seriously. The next day, Vince McMahon noticed a definite change in the two youngest members of his Corporation. Christian seemed more compliant and Shane had developped a startling amount of confidence literally overnight. It looked like his son had finally managed to break the young Goth's spirit. Excellent.
The contracts were ready. All that was left was getting Edge and Gangrel to sign theirs. "There is the dumbest idea in history." Shane began. "We can give the contracts to someone else and say that Starr asked them to sign." "I can't think of anything better." Christian admitted. "If we're lucky, it'll work." The plan worked. Even when she wasn't around, Starr had a lot of influence over people.
That night on Raw, during the Brood's match against the Hardy Boyz, the Corporation came out. Before Vince could speak, Shane snatched the microphone away. "Let me get something straight." He began. "I NEVER wanted to be here, and neither did Christian. Though my father coerced us by different means, the end result was exactly the same. Being stuck in the Corporation for the rest of our careers." Edge tossed his brother an incredulous look. Christian nodded, hoping his brother would understand. This had been for him all along. Shane kept the microphone in hand while he and Christian walked towards the ring. Gangrel and Edge backed up cautiously, but didn't bolt. "In the end," Shane concluded. "These guys are more of a family then we ever were, DAD. And I'd choose them over you any day." For the first time in a while, Shane McMahon's words evoked cheers from the fans. Gangrel tossed him a suspicious look, but Christian signaled that he would explain everything later. Shane stretched out his hand uncertainly, and after a moment, was accepted into the Brood fold.
In the backstage area, the new and improved Brood was explaining what had happened over recent weeks. Edge eyed Christian's title approvingly. Though the victory was tainted, he really deserved a championship. "I'm glad you're with us now," Gangrel addressed the youngsters. "Thanks." Edge's simple comment was directed to both Shane and his brother. "I'm sorry I doubted you." "We didn't get the time to explain." Christian replied evenly. "I couldn't let him do that to you. There was no other way to save you, except to work for him." "I have an idea." Shane began with a smile that was almost as disturbing as Edge's. "Why don't we punish the guy responsible for all of this? I have some serious payback coming my way." "I like the way you think." Gangrel told him with a devilish chuckle. "His interview is on now anyway."
Ten minutes after those words were spoken, the lights went down, and Mr. McMahon was the most recent victim of a Bloodbath. From now on, the Brood, and the World Wrestling Federation would never, ever, be the same.
THE END?