Summary: All appears to be going well for the turtles, that is, until Raphael wakes up in a strange place with no memory of how he came to be there. Not to mention the sky that's made of fire and the strange man with no eyes that keeps telling Raphael he's in Hell.
Disclaimer: I do not own TMNT, nor do I claim to; all rights belong to their respected owners.
Inspired by the classic, Dante's Inferno, written by Dante Alighieri
~Ashes~
"In the middle of the journey of our life I found myself within a dark woods where the straight way was lost."
–Dante Alighieri, Inferno
The wretched cries of the fallen resounded in Raphael's ears. He awoke with a gasp, as if someone had thrown a bucket of icy water on his sleeping form. Raphael wished that someone had. The heat that surrounded him was like nothing he had ever felt before. It was a feeling of mixed sensations, of standing too close to a fire, of lying under the scorching sun on the hottest desert, and drowning in boiling water, all rolled into one uncomfortable sensation.
Raphael panted, hunched over on hands and knees as he desperately tried to draw a cleansing breath into his aching lungs. His throat felt like it was on fire and his eyes felt so dry, he thought they would turn to ash in the faintest wind. Sweat clung to his body like a snug-fitting sweater, stifling and suffocating. The wretched cries echoed in Raphael's ears, louder than before, reaching a crescendo, before fading away into soft whispers.
Raphael shook his head, trying to fight through the fog that had engulfed him. He couldn't remember where he was or what had transpired for him to be here, wherever here was. His head pounded and his whole body ached. Raphael felt like someone had squeezed all the life out of him, and his broken and brittle body was slowly falling apart, piece by piece.
Raphael tried to open his dry eyes, and blinked at the sudden flames that danced before his vision. Raphael screwed his eyes tightly shut against the searing heat and pain, groaning in discomfort. He slowly tried to open his eyes again, this time blinking slowly in an attempt to moisten his parched retinas. What he saw confused Raphael more than alarmed him. He was in the middle of a dark forest. Tall trees as black as onyx towered above him, leafless and sharp, like blades piercing the sky. The sky. The sky was a rolling mass of dancing flames. Raphael stared in disbelief at the red and orange hues that flamed across the sky, like a million suns had simultaneously combusted, and the air was filled with their impressive heat. The ground under Raphael's battered body was a sickly shade of grey, and had the texture of ash. Looking more closely, Raphael realised with a jolt that the ground was made of ash.
Raphael tried to push himself to his feet, stumbling and moaning in pain as his aching muscles refused to cooperate. Where the hell am I? Raphael thought in a daze, not realising in that moment, that he had answered his own question.