Author's note: here is part four of my series! Read and enjoy!
Casey Madeline Cooper sat at her kitchen table and frowned. In her hand she held a hand-written request to see her and that it was urgent.
It was at least the hundredth one she'd gotten that week. That, she supposed, was due to the fact that she was a highly respected 1200 year old psychic…
That's right…she was immortal and had visions and had since she was a small child, no older than four.
What people seemed to fail to grasp was that she couldn't control them…they just came spontaneously and usually left her with a really bad headache.
With a sigh, she put the letter into a large garbage bag that contained several others. Oh, how she wished she could help these people, but she couldn't.
She could, however, help the people she had visions about. Getting up, she poured herself a cup of coffee and sipped it. And that's what made her glad she had the powers. Otherwise, she wouldn't want them.
Those thoughts brought Casey back to a vision she'd had several nights in a row now. The images had been puzzling her and driving her nuts because she couldn't make head or tails of them.
It had involved a strange man wearing an odd helmet and even weirder body armour. This man was evil, straight to the core…and he had a destination in mind…he wanted to destroy someone…or several people…no, wait…they weren't human…they were something else…
Turtles…they were turtles…and they had been standing upright with weapons in their hands…
Casey shook her head at the absurdity of the idea. Still, in all the years she'd had the visions, they had never once been wrong in any way.
Looking at her fridge, she could see the piece of paper she'd set there with a magnet. On it was more details about the very vision she was stewing about. She had hoped that if she wrote down everything, that somehow it would make more sense, but it didn't.
Grumbling, she decided that perhaps a walk would clear her head. Casey stood and bound her long, blood red hair back with a ponytail before hunting down her sneakers.
When she found them, she put them on and headed outside. She smiled as soon as the warm summer air hit her face.
Casey absolutely loved the summer and wished it was longer than the measly two months that it lasted.
It was evening now and the sun was just setting turning the sky warm reds, yellows, and oranges.
Once she reached Central Park, she took one of the less trodden paths. This one was often quieter than most and she liked that. The silence allowed her to think.
Casey was stewing once again about her vision, when she saw something that startled her.
On a rock ahead of her, she could see something large and bulky wearing what appeared to be a trench coat and fedora sitting on it.
Curious, she slowly crept forward, hoping to look at whoever it was without disturbing them.
From her vantage point, which was just a few feet away, she could see two strands of purple coloured fabric dangling out from behind the hat.
A sigh escaped the figure. It sounded blissful to her. Casey turned her head to see a clear view of the sunset she'd only seen the colours of beforehand.
Ah, so that explained why the figure was sitting there. This made Casey smile.
Suddenly a ringing sound could be heard. She watched as the figure reached into the pocket on the coat to answer it. When that happened, her eyes widened. The figure's arm was green and its hand contained three large fingers instead of five.
The beings in her vision had had the same characteristics…
"Hello?"
Casey nearly fell over at the sound of the deep, slightly raspy voice. It spoke! It could speak!
And it was clearly male.
"Yes, Mikey I'll head back soon so I can fix your toaster…"
Too stunned to move, Casey simply stood and gaped while the figure spoke to whomever he was talking to on the other line.
Once he was done, he sighed again only this time from clear aggravation. He stood and Casey could see that his legs were green aswell and that he had only two toes.
What was he? She wondered.
Her question was answered when the creature removed his trench coat and hat to strap what appeared to be two long staffs to his back.
He's a turtle! A walking, talking, turtle…
And in the next instant she recognized him from her vision. He was one of the four turtles she had seen…
She must have let out a gasp because he suddenly turned and saw her standing there, mouth agape and eyes wide.
And then he seemed to melt into the shadows and vanish completely.
Stunned and slightly afraid, Casey made her way quickly back to her house. Once she was inside she shut the door, panting.
"Good god, they're real…"
Even though she knew she shouldn't surprised by this, she was anyway. She took a deep breath and then exhaled. She kept doing this until she could feel herself calming.
Casey figured that at least she could argue that she hadn't had a vision like this before. Usually, they just involved humans…never anything else….that was, until now…
Donatello sighed as he entered the lair to the sounds of what he knew was Raphael chasing their brother, Michelangelo around. What had his comic brother done this time to set off the hot-headed turtle's temper?
He saw Christine, who was Mikey's girlfriend, standing in the kitchen shaking her head at the two of them.
"What did he do?" he asked her.
"They were playing one of their many war games when an argument about who had the best character came about. Anyway, the short and short of it is that Mikey insulted Raph's character one too many times…"
Donnie nodded his head in understanding. This type of argument was common between the two. It usually diffused only after Raph had tackled his little brother and left him with a few bruises.
Shaking his head himself, Donnie drew his thoughts back to earlier in the evening. Just who was that girl that had seen him?
Nobody had ever caught him in his little hideaway spot before tonight. So, what had made tonight different?
She'd been lovely he had to admit…though it had been dark he had been able to make out her features…the blood red hair and the piercing violet eyes…
Donnie shook himself. There was no use thinking that way about a stranger. After all, he'd probably never see her again…and for some reason, that thought bothered the purple masked turtle more than he liked.
Grumbling to himself, he walked into the kitchen and grabbed the toaster that Mikey had been complaining about.
Maybe, just maybe, fixing it would get the woman out of his head…
Yeah, right…