Heart of Gold
by TJHECTOR
-Summary:
Trained as a fierce and heartless warrior and owned by Hun, Raphael brawls in an underground gambling fight club for a living. Genetic mutation has made Raph unique and alone…until he learns that there are his kin scattered about the city. And the days without humanity are about to end. Rated for language & violence. Dystopian au.
-Disclaimer: I do not own TMNT and the stuff I quoted.
BOOK I
The Rain Never Ceases
Only fighting yields
Happiness on earth,
And on battlefields
Friendship has its birth.
One in three are friends:
Brothers in distress,
Equals, facing foes,
Free—when facing death!
—Nietzsche, Heraklitismus (Heraclitian)
(Translated by W. Kaufmann)
I
-Year 2078, New York City-
The screeching rainfall always causes me headache.
I usually…no, I always wake up at 1:03 pm precisely, except when it rains like waterfall. I hate it when it rains like this. The whole city would be drowning in the cold pouring deluge, and you can smell the shitty wet smog under your supposed-to-be-warm blanket. When it rains like this, I'd wake up immediately and not be able to fall asleep again. Good. Fucking light sleeper as I am. Also, the humidity makes my knee joint hurts.
I roll over to my right side and rub my left knee. I hurt it pretty bad three years ago, and it never really heals. As long as I could keep my chin up in a fight, Hun would never spend too much medicine money on me.
Rainfalls. Rainfalls. Ceaseless beatings on my window. Although I live in the basement of the Purple Tower, the nastiest department store (they claim to be one, but who the hell would agree with them I don't know) in the city, I have a small window on the upper east side of my room. A bless, or a curse? I don't know.
Raindrops pours over the sullen city, where I've spent my whole life, pounding relentlessly the buildings and the people, pounding my chests, my eardrums, and pounding my fading dreams—soon, they're all gone, blown away like some overly fancy reveries.
My small room is dry and nice enough. If it was as wet and grey as those fucked up small apartment Casey told me about I'd rather sleep on haystack (not that I've ever seen any haystack in my life. I'm a city boy—city turtle, I mean). Those shiny white residences on TV are nothing but a bunch of lies. We live in Outertown. Well, about outer town, what you can expect is shit and crowd and humidity and dangerous mutants in the dark alleyways.
I don't have much furniture in the rather small space. There's a bed, a nightstand, a closet, a chair, a table, and nothing else. Everything in this room was scavenged from the massive junkyard on the outskirts. Most of them were found by Splinter, who was very good at these stuff. This was actually his old room, but it became mine after he passed away three years ago. Anyway.
I roll over again. This time I peek at my clock, which stands silently on my nightstand. It says 12:41. Alright. I sigh and get out of my bed.
Stretching my arms, I can still feel the ache from the fights of the previous night. I glance at my right upper arm, where a dark purple bruise still remains. Whatever. Bruises and cuts are inevitable, and somehow they cheer you up. If you fought like a fresh person, you would not fight as hard and as fierce as you are in pain or at disadvantage.
I walk into the small bathroom. The light bulb in my bathroom isn't working, but I haven't the time to fix it. I turn the faucet and cold waters starts to run down, washing over my hands and slowly waking up my sluggish nerves. I lower my head and let the icy coldness wet the back of my neck. Rubbing my neck roughly and leisurely, I bring the water to my face and wash it with similar negligence.
Once I'm fully awake, I feel like I'm ready to fight. Another day. A new day just like any other old days. What's the difference? What presses me to go on?
I don't know. Fighting is my instinct. Ferocity is in my blood.
The waters keep soothing and stinging my skin and brain. Now I can feel the sharp burning feeling in my stomach; it is always there, ready to give me a prod and push me into an aggressive state. I breathe in deeply, feeling it rising up and spreading in my body.
…I was struck twice, once in my temple and once in my stomach. I landed on my shell, crying out.
"Get up!" Tyger shouted behind me.
"No, I can't do this anymore," I begged.
"Your opponent is still standing, Raphael," the tiger-man warned me. "Now get up and face him."
"I can't!" I cried and looked up at my opponent in this practice match, who snickered.
"Fighting is your instinct; Ferocity is in your blood," Tyger merely stated coldly. "Are you afraid? Does a warrior shy away from his commission?"
"I'm not afraid," I uttered through my trembling lips.
"Then get UP!" the tiger-man roared.
My legs shook violently as I slowly rose up. And although I tasted tears on my tongue, I knew I could continue to fight no matter what. Something was smoldering deep inside me, something that could only be called a warrior's spirit. I felt anger and shame. It came so quick—but that was how a warrior should be…volatile, always ready to fight, to lunge at his enemies.
And always alone.
I shut off the waters and go out of the bathroom.
-O-
Putting on some clothes (specially made to fit my carapace in), I step back from the closet and regard myself in the mirror, just wanting to make sure that I look neat enough—I don't give a damn, but Hun doesn't like me looking too shabby in front of his 'audience'. Well, his audience won't be showing up until well past midnight, but I have some stuff to do—namely, eating some healthy meals, working out in Hun's gym, and fulfilling my assigned duties.
I pull on my leather jacket. It's already worn. It used to belong to a fighter sponsored by Hun's opposing company. He died in a fight and I snatched that jacket from his dead body.
…I stared at the man who had fallen with wide eyes. He just lay there at the dark corner next to the ring, mouth ajar and gaze blank.
He was knocked out in the last match. I stalked closer.
"Hey kid," suddenly he said.
I backed off.
"Come here…"
He couldn't harm me. I cautiously stole a couple of steps forward.
"Closer," he mumbled, raising a feeble hand.
"What do you want?" I asked carefully.
"Whatcha doin' here," he asked. "This ain't place fer kids."
"I'm not a kid," I said.
"No yer not, yer a mutant kid," he said. "That's even worse. Get outta here."
"I can't," I said. "I'm here to fight."
He laughed. "Go home. Ya can't fight."
"How would ya know?" I snorted.
"Ya cannot win a fight unless yer desperate," he hissed. "It's a dangerous place. Leave, before it cost ya yer life."
But I can't leave, I thought. The man started to cough violently. He was about to die, I though as I watched his face suddenly went very pale. The audience cheered loudly and excitedly, but nobody seemed to notice the dying man. I watched him as he swallowed his own blood and heaved out the last breath.
The paleness on his face shone bright as if someone put a spotlight on him. And I found that I wasn't afraid of death.
I pull myself back from my thoughts. So many years have passed, so many deaths have I witnessed; yet that particular night holds a special position in my heart. Why would a stranger care about a mutant? Why did he warn me? A mutant doesn't have much choice if it wants to survive.
At last, I picked up the red bandana from my nightstand and slowly wrap it around my forehead; it covers my head from nose up with my eyes being the only exception. I blink. The green eyes in the mirror blink back at me.
"Ready for another fight?"
I clench my left fist and feel my strength works its way down my arm and passes my wrist joint, pressing hard into my palm. It is there. I exhale.
"I'm ready," I said.
—End of chapter one.
-A/N:
Hey Hec! I told myself, stop writing new stories! Finish the old ones first! But what if I'm stuck on the old ones? (FYI, I decided to put Never on hiatus, sorry for those who are following the story, but once I'm on the right tune I will continue)
This is a plot squirrelanoid (not just a plot bunny lol) I've had ever since I watched Blade Runner, and of course, other neo-noir films (My favs being Seven, The Dark Knight and such). Just picture a metropolis heavily shaded in rain, you'll get the tone.
I know it's an AU and all...but it would be fun to give it a shot. I know it's same old Raph lol, but this different from everything I've written before. So reviews are welcome and...you know, no flames or such :p.