-Before we get started, I've been working on this for a while. I should be working on The Story of Mayu, but I hit a block and I feel irritation whenever I want to work on it. I've gotten a job, like a few months ago, and I'm still getting used to it. I'll work on my stories occasionally while I'm at work. I don't slack off, but I do have a lull at times when I'm working, so there's time for me to write (I work graveyards). Now, this story is one I've been trying to write since I was a teenager; that was when I still had some sort of weird crush on Raphael. I still love TMNT, even the newer version of them. This story will take place in that time, but after the first movie, like a few months or so. At the time I'm writing this, it's almost 2016, so I imagine, or really hope, that the next movie will come out soon. Still, I imagine that my story will go way off base form the plot of the second movie. I'll live. I've been tinkering around with this kind of plot for a while. Can't yet decide if it's stupid, but I like it. So, please enjoy and have a good day.- SpiffyPixie1

Chapter 1

"I miss the world as it was before. There were trees and plants for miles around, anywhere you would look. People were kind and good; there had to have been a time before wars, before people were the cause of one another's death. Now there's just crime and pollution, death everywhere you turn, and hardly any peace in nature, because people have destroyed it all. I miss the way the world used to be, even if I was never there for it." –Liam Daniels

I was sweeping in my Uncle's church, helping to clean up while he was out buying groceries. I was thankful for the peace it brought; cleaning was simple work, but it was useful. I needed peace after the day I had. I honestly just wanted to finish cleaning, get my stack of homework done, and then rest. Maybe I could watch a movie before I went to bed . . .

Footsteps echoed behind me and I turned, smiling and thinking that my Uncle had come back from the store. Instead of my Uncle's smiling face, there was just darkness; an empty fucking void of blank space that made my skin crawl.

It can't be dark. I stepped closer to the darkness and looked around at where the stained glass was supposed to be. There should've been a colorful mosaic of sunlight spilling through the panes of glass, like there'd been just a second ago. It's four o' clock! The sun wasn't supposed to set for another two hours.

I stepped back from the wall of dark when the footsteps started up again, echoing out of the blackness. Dread filled my gut, thick and nauseating. No, no, no. Please, don't.

A figure emerged and the darkness rolled back from it slowly, like a dark mist rolling back from an old pirate ship. It revealed . . . My mom.

Relief went through me instantly. "Mother! God, you don't know how much you scared me."

She said nothing, just gave me a blank stare that slowly change to an expression of distaste.

I gulped and kept my forced smile; she'd get annoyed if I appeared to be upset. "Are you okay? Is anything wrong?" Mom, of course, never visited me during weekdays unless there was something important she wanted to talk about. At first, she didn't answer me. I felt awkward in the silence, suffering my mom's unchanging stare. "Mother?"

She opened her mouth, and nothing that came out was understandable. It was a mish-mash of murmured whispering.

I blinked in shock and swiped up on my hearing aid, trying to increase the volume enough to hear my mom speak. No matter how high I made it go, I couldn't hear her. "I-I can't hear you."

Honestly, it didn't appear that she cared at all. About me not being able to hear her anyway. Still, as she was speaking, her expression changed; from distaste, disappointment, and then to panic.

A jolt went through my chest. What was wrong? What was wrong with her?

The darkness was spreading, overtaking my mother.

I ran for her and reached for her hand, fully intending to save her.

She ripped her hand away from me, the disgust returning to her countenance for only a moment.

I didn't let that stop me. I grabbed my mother's arm and her shoulder and pulled, biting my lip to hold back a cry that threatened to break free.

The darkness, the smoky, inky blackness, burned me.

Yet I didn't want to let go. This was my mom, the woman who gave me birth, who paid for my schooling, who paid for the private lessons for me that I didn't want to participate in but did anyway to please her. I loved her, and I wouldn't be alive without her.

So I hung on through the darkness spreading over my hands and arms, finally letting my tears fall from the pain. "Mother!" My voice was like a shriek in my own ears, fear feeding the volume.

It spread to my elbows.

"Mother, no!"

It spread up my biceps and toward my shoulders. My grip was slipping.

The tears were thick and hot, blinding me. "Mother! Hold on!"

She finally slipped out of my hands and I fell back on the floor, uncaring of the pain.

My mother was lost to the darkness that was spreading toward me.

I didn't immediately move away, still looking at the wall of inky blackness as though she would walk back out. "Mom?" I was whimpering, hoping desperately that my mother would reappear.

She didn't.

I scrambled away from the spreading darkness and ran past the pews, ran past my Uncle's podium that he gave sermons from, and ran to the back door, jiggling the knob violently. It wouldn't budge, no matter which way I turned it.

Something inside me snapped and I cried out in fear, slamming my body up against the door in some idiotic effort to bust it open. Finally I just slid to the floor, giving up completely. I'm not getting out. I'm gonna die. That was certain in my mind.

I sat with my back against the door, knees up and legs folded, and buried my head in my arms. It was pathetic, but I sat there and waited for the smoky wall of darkness and pain to reach me. I waited for the end.

After what seemed like a few minutes, I looked up. The end hadn't come. In fact, the darkness was moving back.

A new figure emerged, though it wasn't my mom. Oh no, this figure was tall, muscular, and had a shell-like hump on his back. This figure didn't scare me at all, though he was perfectly capable of hurting me. I knew that he never would.

His green eyes met mine and I felt a shiver go through me. He kneeled in front of me, all grace and power, and held out his hand. "Come on. Let's go home." His voice was as deep as ever, but immensely reassuring.

What was I supposed to say to that? "I-I am home."

The figure scoffed out a laugh. "No," he growled out quietly. "This isn't home. You belong with us."

And somehow I felt that I did. I placed my hand in his, not minding his thick, three-fingered grip or his green skin.

His hand tightened around mine, enveloping it, and he pulled me up. There was a wide smile on his face, brightening his normally gruff features.

It made me happy.

He and I walked into the darkness together, hand in hand, and I didn't feel so afraid anymore; I wasn't alone.

I opened my eyes to darkness and felt like I was choking.

I sat up and gasped, looking around wildly. I hated the dark; hated it, and I've never understood why. I couldn't remember what would've possibly screwed with my head so much that the darkness scared me so terribly.

Then again, I couldn't remember anything. . . Where the fuck was I?

I opened my mouth and uttered a single word. "Hello?" The vibration was there in my throat to let me know that I was talking, but I couldn't hear it. A shaky sigh escaped me. My hearing aid. It was gone.

I focused on feeling around the floor where I'd woken up, pushing back my fear of the dark with determination.

It was a terrifying thing, to be both completely deaf and then also somewhere pitch black; both sight and sound were robbed, and so it felt like anything could be right beside me, watching me, waiting for its chance to pounce and-.

My fingers brushed leather and I suppressed a yelp. I knew what this was; it was my messenger bag, the one my Uncle had bought me.

As I slung the bag around my shoulders and continued searching around where I'd lain, I wondered, Why can I remember that? How did that come so easily? Why has nothing else? In all honesty, I couldn't even remember my name.

I turned slowly once more, feeling across the splintered wood floor, and my fingertips finally met a combination of cold plastic and then a warm gel.

Triumph blossomed in my chest, warm and bright, and was successful in momentarily pushing back my fear of the dark.

My cold fingers fumbled with the little device for only a second and then I swiped up twice to increase the volume of my hearing aid.

The warmth of my triumph was doused by the sound of unfamiliar voices. Two men, walking around and whispering.

I stepped back slowly, hoping desperately that I was quiet enough, and swiped up a few more times to increase the volume once more.

"Why are we here, Lenny?" It sounded like an older man; deep voice but he spoke with a whine.

Lenny, I assumed, shushed his whining companion. His voice wasn't as deep as the first man's, but it was still hard, commanding. "Shut up, Marco," he growled out with no shortage of annoyance. "You saw that light. I want to know what it was before the cops get here."

'Marco' only continued to whine, which I knew would get on my nerves as well. "What if it's nothing? What if it's a terrorist?"

I continued to feel my way along the floor and the wall, looking for a way out. He went from nothing to terrorist? I shook my head. It didn't matter; they didn't matter. I just needed to find my way out and then find . . . Who?

Hell if I knew. Hopefully I'd figure it out soon. Not knowing who the hell I was and what I was supposed to do kind of scared me a little.

What the men said next, however, scared me more.

"Come on," Marco pleaded. "Antony's gonna get mad if we don't bring the girls back soon. It's been long enough that the drugs are gonna wear off if we don't hurry up."

Drugs. Girls. Those things never mixed well in my head, and I didn't have to remember who I was to know that I was a girl; I could feel that.

"Shut up," Lenny hissed. "Don't say his name, don't fucking say what we're doing. What if somebody hears you!?"

"But this apartment's abandoned! No one's here."

Oh ho ho, but I was. And I was fucking terrified. I backed up, still looking for a way out. My hands brushed the wood of a staircase banister. Yes! But what if this was like the movies? I'd go up the stairs, quietly if possible, but one of the steps would squeak, just one of them, and those men would hear and come running.

It was possible, but what was I supposed to do? If I was careful enough, maybe I wouldn't make a noise.

I put my foot on the first step and pressed down gently, putting weight on it . . . No noise. Relief swept through me. Now for the next step . . . Again, silence. The men sounded quieter, mumbling about doing horrifying things. A shiver ran down my spine, and not a good one.

Now for the third step. I put my foot gently on it and pressed down, hoping that once I was at the top of the stairs I could find a window to crawl out of and escape.

The step creaked loudly as I put my full weight on it and I bolted almost immediately.

"What was that!?"

The men were running toward the sound now and I could finally see light, but it wasn't comforting. What would they do if they found me?

I didn't wanna know.

I found a door and swung inside, locking it an instant before someone started hammering against the wood.

"Hey! Open up!"

"What the fuck did you hear!?"

No clue what possessed me to yell at them, but anger was flaring in my gut. "You're fucking sick bastards! What the hell is wrong with you!?" If that didn't give them the idea that I'd been listening in on them, then nothing would.

There was no time for me to regret it, however. I turned to face the window and saw that it was boarded up from my side. Shit, shit, shit! Still, if I could just get one board off of there, there was a possibility of me being able to squeeze through.

I started trying to rip one of the boards off the window almost immediately, terror driving my strength. Come on, come on! The edge of the board I was yanking on felt like it was coming loose and I pulled harder, voicing my frustration with an angered shriek. Almost there! One final pull, hard and violent, and I fell backward, hearing a loud crack.

My butt smarting from the impact with the floor, I looked up, hoping there was an opening. And there was, but only a partial one; one that I could never hope to squeeze through.

I had only succeeded at breaking a fourth of the board off. My heart sank with that realization. I ran back to the window and a second later heard the men break open the door behind me.

One last chance! I put my face to that broken board and screamed. "Help me! Someone! He-."

A large sweaty hand covered my mouth and I inwardly retched, disgusted. Lenny's voice was in my ear, hot breath making my skin crawl. "Ssh, ssh, ssh. Calm now, little girl. We don't wanna hurt you."

But I wanted to hurt them. I struck behind me with my elbow, eliciting a sharp groan of pain, but he didn't let me go. What the FUCK!? Things like that worked in movies, but I guessed if the men were probably used to it, it wasn't likely to faze them that bad.

Lenny faced me toward someone whom I guessed was Marco. "She fucking elbowed me."

The shape of Marco shrugged. "Well she's scared; not as bad as what Tara did to you." He had the gall to chuckle.

My blood was boiling at his words. Sick bastards. Psychotic, terrible fucking people.

Lenny growled in annoyance. "Would you just shine the fucking light on her? Is she worth taking?"

Taking? Oh god. It reminded me of the movie Taken, except then I wondered why I remembered that and not something useful. Apparently I watched too many movies.

A bright light was shined on my face, blinding me, and I heard a low, appreciative whistle. "She's not too bad looking. Young, dark hair, blue eyes."

Lenny was silent for a moment, and then he sighed. "She'll make four. Come on, let's go."

The light was clicked off, but the spots remained in my eyes. I looked out of my peripheral and hoped I would see what was going on.

It seemed like Marco was taking something out of his pocket.

I stayed still, waiting for a chance to move.

He came closer to me and Lenny moved his arm ever so slightly.

Now. I jerked my head away quickly and kicked up at Marco's arm. The only reason, the only reason I was able to reach his hand was because I was 5' 10"; my long-ish legs saved me, if only for a moment.

Marco cried out in pain and Lenny jerked under my sudden weight when I let my body go limp. He dropped me and I rolled away heading immediately for the door.

A grip closed around my arm and I whirled around immediately, biting down on the hand with as much force as I could muster, anger roiling through me. I wanted to hurt this person who was trying to hurt me and I wanted them to be hurt enough to leave me alone. I was scared and I wanted to live.

A fist hit me on the side of the head and I saw spots of white as I fell, pain pulsing through my skull. The next moment something sharp pierced my neck and the feeling of cold spread slowly.

My struggling stopped and Lenny, I assumed, threw me to the ground.

Whatever they injected me with was strong enough that I barely even felt the pain. A kick hit my side and it felt like a dull throb.

Lenny growled and was rubbing at his hand. "Fucking hell! You stupid little bitch . . ."

"Lenny, we're supposed to use her; I dunno if Antony's gonna like you bruising the merchandise."

"Antony can do this shit then," Lenny said angrily, apparently forgetting his own rule of not saying his boss's name. "I'm tired of getting hit and kicked." Regardless, he sighed and picked me back up, not bothering to support my head that was lolling back wildly.

Still, there was an advantage to my vantage point. I could see the window, and since I could see the window, I saw the shadow that blocked out the light for a split second, long enough for Lenny and Marco to notice.

They turned toward the window, which in turn swung me away to where I couldn't see what was going on. "What the fuck was that?"

"I don't know! A bird?"

"Well go check."

Marco sighed exasperatedly and I heard his footsteps travel over in the direction of the window.

A second later there was the sound of wood splintering and the men yelling in surprise.

Gunshots rang out and I was dropped once more.

I struggled to roll my head over and saw four figures larger than my two attempted captors go to work knocking the men out, disarming them of their guns.

It was silent. I couldn't even hear the footsteps that brought one of the figures by my side.

They kneeled down and felt my forehead, then checked my pulse. "Ma'am?" The voice was familiar; a little high, but definitely male.

I know who this is. Didn't I?

"Ma'am?" The figure was snapping their fingers and brought out some sort of device with a green light. "Can you hear me? Are you awake?"

I opened my mouth and let out a raspy, "Yes."

The figure appeared to nod and the green light ran down my face and I assumed the rest of my body. They looked at the screen of the device and nodded again. "Okay. You appear to have a paralyzing narcotic in your system, more than 50 ccs. You're going to pass out as soon as it finishes spreading through your body, and then you're going to feel very sick when you wake up again. We're going to take you to the hospital, alright?"

"No." My voice sounded so weak, so pathetic. Whatever strength I had left let me move my hand to reach out and grab the figure's hand. I felt warm skin and three fingers that were much thicker than mine. Why wasn't that weird to me? I know that it should've been, but it wasn't strange . . . Just familiar.

I let out a rasping breath, struggling to keep my eyes open. "Please . . . Don't take me to the hospital. . . I'm not from here . . . I don't remember who I am." That was in no way useful information.

The figure gripped my hand, as though trying to be comforting. "Where do we take you then?"

Where indeed? I knew that I needed to find someone, but who ? . . . Somehow I remembered, the first memory that came to me when I actually tried to remember something. It was important. I yanked weakly on the figure's hand and they leaned closer. I knew he wouldn't freak out as badly as his brothers might. "Listen, Donnie."

The hand tightened and froze in my grip. "What? How-?"

"Please." I was going to black out; I could feel it, feel my body numbing rapidly. "Please don't be scared . . . Search those men and then search for a vehicle outside. They might have three girls waiting out there, drugged and unconscious." My head was cloudy, but I wanted to make sure those other girls would be safe. I took a deep breath in an effort to stay awake. "After that, please take me to see Master Splinter." Why did I know that name? Why did I know who Donnie was?

He had to be terrified, yet I couldn't wait for an answer; I could only trust that he would take a chance to trust me. He didn't answer me at first and I knew it was too late.

I could feel myself fading.

"Okay," a quiet voice murmured. "Don't worry."

Relief and a sense of safety. And then I was gone.