Ok, I have had the worst case of writer's block that I have ever had in my entire life for the past two months or so. I am slowly, but surely, getting over it. I have about the first three chapters mapped out in my other story, TMNT:RAT, but for now I want to try something that is a bit of a change of pace for me. This story isn't exactly a happy one, so if you aren't one for much angst or darker themes, than my stories may be a toss-up for you. But enough with my incessant rambling. On to the story!
A drop of perspiration ran down the length of the boy's head as he watched the fire rage. It mixed with a tear, and came to rest on his chin. As if contemplating its next move, it hesitated for a split second, before falling to the ground and becoming one with the scorched ground. The boy watched it fall for a moment, wishing he could simply melt into the ground and be gone. It would be a fitting end for one who could die with no honor. It would be fitting for him to melt, just as his family melted before the fire.
He didn't even notice the heat blistering against his skin, nor his face twisting itself into an expression of pure horror. Instead, he felt numb as he watched the flames dance across his home, taking everything that the boy loved, everything that could possibly matter, with the exception of the katanas strapped to his back. Tears rolled silently down his face. It pained him to know that now all he could do for his family was to cry for them, and to pray for them.
Though the boy was deaf to the world around him, he was painfully aware of the house itself. The smell of booze made his eyes burn as much as the smoke did. Even the unquenchable fire couldn't hide the blood on the windowpanes of the house, crusting to the glass and making the child feel ill. It was his family's blood. He couldn't tear his eyes from the house, not even when a voice coming from behind him muttered, "Classic Blade work."
Someone grabbed his shoulders and spun him away from the fire. The boy kept his eyes to the ground, watching his sweat and tears dissolve away. "You sure this is the kid? I mean, he don't look like he's worth nothin' to us anymore like this," a new voice whispered harshly. He heard the sound of someone shoving someone the ground.
"Shuddup! The boss wants this kid, he's gonna get this kid," the first voice yelled. The boy raised his head to meet the eyes of a big man. Behind him stood another man, and another was picking himself up off of the ground. They all had the same eerie tattoo above their left eye; a tattoo of a blue swirling "X". These men were part of the Ghosts. But the boy was too numb to care. Why should he when the worst these men could possibly offer was a death he deserved? "You want ya vengeance, kid? We can get ya vengeance. In return, you give us ya loyalty, and become us," The first man said, sneering down at the boy while extending a hand.
For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, the boy felt a spark. The spark grew into a flame, and his entire body burned. His eyes narrowed. He would destroy the Blades. The boy had no honor any longer; he had nothing to lose. He would give up his soul to kill the heartless murderers. He would kill for the chance to spill the blood of a Blade.
So slowly, shakily, Leonardo reached up his burned hand and took hold of his new life: a life filled with the blood of his enemies.