So this is not my first attempt at fan fiction, but it is the first time I have published anything. This idea popped in my head when I was working on a much longer story I am working on dealing with The Loud House. Then I got an itch to write something with a fight scene. So I hope you enjoy, and don't feel the need to be gentle with reviews, I got a thick skin and can handle it. But please let me know what you think about the fight scene as I am trying to figure a way to write great action scenes. Also did the best I could with grammar, but I may have missed a few spots.
The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles are the copyrighted material of Nickelodeon and were created by Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird.
Rage
Thunder clapped and rolled out across a sky filled with dark gray clouds that swelled with the threat of a nasty storm. It had been hot in the city for the past few weeks, the numbers hitting the triple digits. The heat was making people crazy, saying rude and mean things to one another, stealing, and of course, there were the fights. New York City had lots of fights and alot of crime, but it also had good people who would help when the chips were down. Some of those willing to help were not always people, some of them were large talking turtles who knew the art of ninjutsu.
Raphael leaned over the roof of an apartment building not to far from the sewer entrance that led home. It was just past midnight and he was in desperate need for some fresh air or some fresh skulls to crack. Considering the fact that he was a mutated turtle that was also ninja, he was accustomed to the strange looks from those who knew he had existed (and were not mutated themselves). The looks from family and friends however, those drove him nuts.
Raphael had a temper, or as Mikey would say, "Dude you are like a stick of dynamite with a fuse too short." Raph was alot like dynamite, his temper often getting himself and his brothers in trouble. Still, there were times that same temper had helped them out of a few jams. Yet no matter what, he still got those same strange looks when that fuse hit the stick and it all went boom. That was why he was standing on top of a building in the middle New York, in the middle of the night. There was a big boom.
He did not remember how or why, but he knew whom. Leo. It was almost always Leonardo, the goody goody of his brothers. Leo was always the first, to say, "Yes master Splinter", or "Stop goofing around and get serious", that last one bothered him the most. Raph was not one to screw around when it came to fighting. He loved to fight. His father and master, Splinter would always tell him that there was a dragon within his soul, and it would consume him with the fires of rage if he did not tame the beast. To Raph that sounded like the words of a father that worried too much about his son. Raph chose to believe that his temper could be useful, not all fire was bad. It all depended on how he used it. Right now Raphael wanted to use that fire to hit someone incredibly hard.
It had been several months since he last felt that sweet sensation of his knuckles cracking against the jaw of a foot solider or even Rahzar. Right now, he needed that feeling so he could go back home and get some sleep. Mikey had his junk food, Leo had his training and Donie had his science crap. All Raph had was his foot up the butt of some poor soul who dared to cross him.
Just as he was about to give up hope in finding a fresh chump to put a beat down on, he heard the screams of a woman just about a block away. Mugging, he thought to himself, not a foot clan whooping, but it will have to do. He ran over the rooftops of the buildings, ducking close lines and leaping over vents. He was coming to a ten to twelve foot gap between two buildings, with a drop of nearly thirteen stories. He quickened his pace, leaping and planting both feet on the ledge, then using every muscle in his legs to shoot himself forward into the air over the deadly drop below, and on to the roof of the next building. He landed with a tuck and roll, taking the weight and pressure off his legs, and preventing them from snapping like chicken bones. Standard ninja stuff.
He was near the sound of the scream, but stopped when he noticed that he had not heard another since he began to run in the direction of the scream. He knew that was odd, he had saved enough people to know that you do not just scream once and hope somebody hears you. You scream your damn head off until somebody hears you. A simple thought floated across his mind, that of a bunch of kids screwing around, trying to freak out the neighbors. The though quickly had drifted from his mind and out to where ever random thoughts floated to. No, he knew what was going on. Raphael smiled when the word entered his mind and traveled out past his lips.
"A trap." He said.
There was movement out of the corner of his eye, as if the shadows had suddenly shifted. Foot soldiers. His hand moved to the sais that hung off his belt, and his grip tightened around the cord wrapped around the handle.
Three foot soldiers came out of the darkness, cloaked in black, the moon light gleaming off the blades of their swords. They knew he was ready to dance, but they did not know he was itching to fight. They moved in quick, each one swinging for the fences with those blades, and each one aiming for a section of turtle flesh to remove from his body. Raphael jumped back a few inches to avoid the taste of steel against his skin as pulled out his sais. In his right hand, he kept a standard hold, the point of the blade facing his enemy, while the one in his left hand he reversed, so the blade faced him.
Two of the foot soldiers attacked, each one swinging their swords in different directions, one cutting from the right and one the left. Raphael had been banking on them to do that move He positioned his sais to catch the blades. Sparks illuminated the darkness of the roof top as the steel weapons collided with a fury you could feel and hear. The blades hitting each other made a noise that would sound like metal kitchen utensils hitting a metal floor, but to a ninja, it was the language of battle. Their weapons continued to talk with viciousness like rabid dogs biting at each other. Raphael twisted the sai in his right hand, forcing the foot solider to move his blade enough that the turtle could sneak in and land an upper cut with his elbow. The sound of the ninja's nose breaking brought a sick smile to Raphs face, which just grew wider as he planted a knee to the ninja gut.
"Hold that thought while I talk with your friends here." He said in a mocking tone of voice.
Raph now had two free hands to finish off the other foot soldier, and then he could focus all of his attention on the shy one that was hanging back while his buddies took a beating. Foot soldier number two stood a few feet from Raphael, his legs opened wide with he knees bent and his sword held firm by both hands to his right side. The man coiled like a snake ready to strike his prey. Raphael hated snakes. In a motion so quick it could have been missed by a blinking eye, the foot soldier lunged forward with his blade cocked above his head. He slashed down with fury and might, attempting to cleave his opponent in two. Raphael sidestepped the move with ease, dropping low and sweeping at the leg of the foot soldier. Instinct had kicked in, years of training in dojos and fighting in back alleys around the world, as the foot soldier left his feet to avoid the leg sweep, then side kicked the turtle in the face, sending him back to the ground.
A lucky move Raphael thought, as he spit a tooth from his mouth. A god-damned lucky move.
The turtle went from his back to his feet in one quick movement as he kipped up with legs and went into a defensive pose. Time to let this clown come to me, he thought to himself. The ninja obliged Raphael's mental request. He swung the sword at the turtle, who had moved in close and caught his opponents arm, entwining it with his own. The foot soldier landed a series of repeating knees into the Raph's mid section, doing little damage as the underside of shell cushioned the blows. Raphael wrenched on the trapped arm, trying to either dislocate the elbow or just plain snap it, he did not care as he was not a picky man ... or turtle as it would be. The foot soldier screamed in pain as he felt the bone break, but did not have time to think about it as Raphael head butted him between the eyes and knocked him unconscious.
Foot soldier number one was about to regain his wind again just as Raphael raised his leg and brought it down with an ax kick that land just behind the base of the foot soldier's head, where the neck and head just meet. The ninja collapsed in a heap to the ground, as unconscious as his friend had been.
"Guess that just leave you and me?" Raphael turned to that last foot soldier. "You ready to play?"
The silence of the moment echoed louder than any noise could have in that very moment. The tension was thick like a late night London fog, floating in the air amidst the silence that set the mood. Raphael's patience was growing thinner by each passing second. His eyes narrowed as he gaze tightened on the lone foot soldier that stood before him. The burning rage of his inner dragon had now set his very soul ablaze with an intensity that could match the sun. Screw this waiting game, Raphael thought to himself as he charged in with both sais drawn. He led with his right foot while thrusting his left arm in a full-paced attack. The foot soldier ducked and brought his hand, open palmed, up and under the jaw of the turtle, then swung around with an elbow that caught Raphael in the throat. The momentum of his charge and the impact of both hits sent the turtle to the ground, sliding across the roof. He had expected a follow up attack, he was easy pickings from there, a swipe with the sword could have finished him. This dick is toying with me, Raphael thought. Cocky foot soldiers? He could not have that now.
Once again, he kipped up and went into a defensive position, this time looking his opponent over. He studied the foot soldier for a moment, noticing that his headband was not the usual red that most foot wore over their masks. His was purple. The different color headband combined with his fighting style made Raph think that this guy was not just some lackey. He was a talented fighter who was moving up the ranks in the foot clan, possibly looking to be one of Shredders right hand men. If he beat Raph that would most likely do the trick. Raphael could not have that happen; no foot soldier was going to use him as a stepping-stone.
Raphael charged again, making repeated attempts to slash and hit the foot soldier with the butt of one of his sais. The foot soldier dodged each move with ease as the foot soldier moved and used the turtles on momentum again him. Raphael felt like a fool. He stopped mid punch and shifted his weight to try to drive an elbow into the foot soldier's chest. The ninja blocked with both arms, landed a straight kick that hit Raph in the midsection driving him back. The move was meant to create distance as well as distract the turtle long enough for the foot soldier to come in with a leaping knee to the face. Once again, Raphael found himself on the ground looking up through eyes that burned like hellfire. He was losing, and he would continue to lose if he did not regain his composer. Master Splinter was right. The rage was blinding him.
Raphael got back to his feet and closed his eyes, listening to all that was around him. He could hear the night wind as it blew in from the north, as well as a few shirts that fluttered on a close line just a few buildings down. Off in the distance sirens wailed like a banshee in the night, and just then there came the click of high heels on concrete. Most importantly, he listened to the foot soldier that stood just a few feet from him. He listened for the rustling of his Shinobi Shozoku against the wind if he charged for an attack.
Raphael kept his ears tuned to the sounds around him as he entered the temple of his mind, searching for a recent memory. He pictured himself walking down long hallways with many doors, each one unlocking a different memory. He stopped and turned to a red colored door he had imagined in front him, then his mind drifted back to a conversation he had recently had with master Splinter.
They were in the dojo in the sewer home they had built for themselves beneath the streets of New York. His brothers had finished their training and wondered off to do their own things while Raphael hung back at the request of his father and sensei. Splinter was about a foot taller than the rest of them, a fact that would one day change with age. He had already begun to show the signs of age, walking a bit slower and clutching his walking stick.
Raphael knew there was a lecture coming, there was always a lecture coming and it was usually directed at either Mikey's foolish behavior or his lack of control of his temper. Since Mikey was off feeding ice cream kitty and playing video games, and he was knelt before master Splinter, he knew what was coming.
"My son, I know you may see your rage as a blessing." Splinter said. "A tool like a fire made to create and sharpen a sword. Yet that same fire can also burn the hand that holds the sword."
By this point Raphael had held his head low, feeling a mixture of shame and frustration sprinkled with bits of anger. The words often changed, as did the metaphors, but the under lined meaning was always the same.
"Because you see this rage as only a tool of motivation, you are blind to the fact that the fire consumes you, and inflates your ego like it would a hot air balloon." Splinter had continued. "This makes your fighting sloppy."
Then Splinter did something he had never done before while giving Raph his daily lecture on his temper. The rat that had raised him sense before the ooze that mutated them sat in front of him and placed his paw on Raph's shoulder. Raphael raised his head and looked into his father eyes, swearing he saw a hint of fear and worry hidden behind pools of tears and years of wisdom.
"You fail to see the simple mistakes you sometimes make. Mistakes that I fear may one day get you killed." After that brief glimpse of emotion, Splinter rose back to his feet and buried it all back down, speaking once again with the tone of a sensei dispensing wisdom to a student. "Slow down and control your breathing my son. Let each breath dose those flames deep within you, and take control of your emotions."
Raphael opened his eyes. The foot soldier had not moved. He stood there with his hand clasped around the handle of his sword, letting Raph know that the time for games was done. This fight was now to the death.
Raphael took a few short and shallow breaths, trying to regain his composer and not let this fight end the way the foot soldier wanted it to. He raised his hand and bent his knees to prepare for an attack, this time he was going to let his opponent make the first move. The seconds dripped by like hours into the night, each man waiting for the other to strike. Finally, the foot soldier had given in and decided to attack first. While keeping one hand on his sword he moved in with an ax kick that met nothing but air, as Raphael sidestepped the attack. The ninja then, as if he planned the move to go the way it did, attacked with an elbow while also sweeping at the legs. Raphael blocked the elbow and raised his feet one at a time but very quickly to avoid the sweep. He then dodged to the left as a fist nearly hit his cheek. The foot soldier drew his blade, a slight ting echoed throughout the night as the steel vibrated upon its unsheathing. The ninja advanced with a series of punches and slashing attacks, Raph moved gracefully out of the way while he blocked with his sais, the clanking sound of the steel weapons meeting rung out across the rooftop. The foot soldier thrust the sword towards Raph in a move meant to impale him, yet a swift sai blocked the blade and guided it safely past his body. Raphael spun around and nailed the foot soldier with a shoulder block that sent him crashing to the ground. Raphael did not wait for his opponent to get back to his feet, coming in was a barrage of kicks and stomps, each one missed as the ninja rolled and spun his way back to his feet.
"Almost gotcha." Raphael remarked.
This time Raph came in, trying to force a mistake from the foot soldier. He went high, aiming for the chest as he thrust his sai forward. The foot soldier retaliated with a simple block, shifting his body to the side while attempting to bring an elbow down into the base of the turtle's neck. Raphael, although, expected the attack, as he also shifted his weight and rolled his body so that he came in crashing against the ninja shell first. They landed with a loud thud and a collective gasp as each one had the air knocked from their lungs. The foot soldier took the worst and was sluggish, giving Raph ample time to roll over on to his knee and punch the foot soldier repeatedly in the face with the butt of his sai. Blood soaked the mask of the ninja. Must have broken his nose, Raph thought to himself.
Raphael tied up the three unconscious men and removed any weapons they had hidden on them. He placed an anonymous call to the police with the phone that Donatello had made for each of his brothers. He then made his way back home, leaping over rooftops and climbing back into the sewers. Raphael got home nearly two hours after he left to get some fresh air. His brothers slept in their rooms, Michelangelo snored like a chainsaw bringing down a forest, and Donatello mumbled something in his sleep about something called Metalhead. Raph looked in on Leonardo, who was sprawled out with his left leg hanging off the bed and his blanket on the floor in a crumpled heap. He snuck in as quickly as a ... well as a ninja, and picked the blanket up and placed it over Leo.
"Sleep tight bro." He whispered.
Raphael then left his brothers room and crossed the living room to where his bedroom was. All the while careful not to make a sound. He was so careful, so focused on not trying to wake anyone up that he failed to notice master Splinter sitting alone in the dark, a smile on his face as his son had once again come home safe.