A/N: Hello again, My friends! Wow, what's this? Another Wizard of Oz fic?! Yes, by popular demand, here is the second edition to Michelangelo and the Wizard of Oz!

I OWN NOTHING. THESE CHARACTERS AND THIS FRANCHISE DO NOT BELONG TO ME.

I hope you enjoy this! Specail thanks goes to my dear friend Pen-Woman and SMDKFan!

Now, let's dive into our first chapter!

TMNT 2012 Wizard of Oz and the Return of The Dark Mystic

Chapter 1: Poison

The air was cold that night, but in the lands of the Black Forest, the air was always cold, like the dead that hovered over their heads, unseen and unheard. The sky was a blanket of darkness, covering the dead lands in its vastness; no stars would twinkle that night.

The forest was thick with silence; not a creature stirred, not even the demon creatures that prowled the lands…they had prowled the lands. Now, this forest was completely desolate. Nothing lived here anymore.

He had made sure that those fowl beasts never set foot in these lands again.

As the land became covered in a thick mist, a lone, tall and slender figure stood at the gates of what had once been a castle of fear, death and destruction, fitting to the title of its previous ruler. But now, it was nothing but a soulless, broken shell of what glory it once had, slowing falling away without the dark magic that had forged it to sustain it any longer.

The figure wore a black cloak over him, a hood covering his face as he stared up at what remained of The Black Castle. His hard, emotionless gaze then wandered down to the ground as he slowly walked closer, near to where the poison moat had once flowed.

He could still see the scorch marks of where his little puppet had met his pitiful end.

He scoffed coldly. That ignorant fool. He should have known better than to activate the young turtle's inner powers by angering him. That led to his defeat, and then his disintegration.

After all the work he put into enticing Oroku Saki into giving in to the darkness, after letting him wreak havoc upon the lands of Oz for years, believing that he could obtain the Sacred Crimson Orb and bring his loved one to life again should he find the one who held it, after making sure that the child actually came here through that portal, only to find that all of that work and dark energy was wasted on that husk of a man.

"How pathetic," he sighed, his cloak swishing as he turned and began to walk away from the scene, his hands in his cloak pockets as he walked steadily down the rotten paths, taking his own time. There was no need to rush things; after all, he had all the time in this world to fulfil his destiny.

If The Shredder, the so-called Wicked Warlock of the West couldn't handle it, then it was time that he took matters into his own hands.

And it would sweet, and oh so easy to accomplish.

He had to give some credit to those little Munchkin people; they really knew how to work, especially when under threat for their miserable lives.

After nearly hours of travelling, he had finally returned to his lair, hidden within the caves of a mighty canyon in the Eastern lands. The cave, if it could truly be called one, was beyond massive. It was so vast that it appeared to be yet another canyon, but in reality, it was what was left of a large and abandoned gold mine, left by the great elves and dwarfs before their time. He strode across one of the many wooden bridges and beams that crossed and hung over the chasm below, his hands folded behind his back as he watched the little people work, abseiling from above and using their pickaxes to stab their way through the crumbling rocks, digging for whatever hid underneath.

If any were caught slacking off or trying to escape, they would face the wrath of his Stone Soldiers, large, bulky and powerful rock warriors he had crafted from the earth to serve as his personal minions, much more powerful than those weakling Foot Soldiers that Shredder had once used.

The elves had been foolish. They had thought that this mine was useless. How wrong they had been. Eventually, he would work these little people to the bone in order to obtain the riches beneath the mould.

Even though The Shredder had botched to live up to his masters' desires, not everything he had worked for had been a complete failure. The lands belonged to him now, after he had let loose his own power after spending so long in dormancy. After their so-called 'saviour' had left the land of Oz nearly a year ago to return to his own world, the rulers of the land had so foolishly believed that they were safe, that peace had finally washed over them at long last.

It was their optimism and naivety that had been their downfall.

He had decided to start off small, and then work his way up to the 'big leagues'. Munchkin Land wasn't all that hard to take control of; those little whelps were no match for him, even without any real weapons. And conquering them was made so much easier after he cursed that Mayor of theirs, for they had practically fallen into despair after witnessing his mighty power. They would be no use to him as soldiers, so he had put them to work as his slaves instead.

His next target had been the Sparrow Kingdom. The bird people that thrived in the forest lands of the North were well versed in the ways of magic, medicines and poisons. He cared little of the majority of their kind, but one in particular had been very well known throughout all of Oz.

In fact, now would be the perfect time to pay him a visit, and finally put the little birdie to good use.

The time was fast approaching…

Smirking to himself, he continued on his way, walking slowly but purposefully across the bridges as he made his way to where the prison cells were situated. The Munchkins avoided his gaze and stood wisely out of his path.

They knew his power, so they knew their place.

It took a while to get all the way down into the lower cell blocks, but he was a patient man. He had learned over the years of his long, long banishment to never rush things, and that patience was a virtue.

If slow and steady won the race, then slow and steady would win him the world.

He approached the first cell door, guarded by two Stone Soldiers. He nodded to them once, and they stepped out of his way. With a flick of his wrist, the metal door unlocked by his will, and it slowly opened, revealing a small, chained anthropomorphic sparrow creature huddled in the corner of his darkened cell. The sparrow blinked rapidly as light finally flooded his room again, but his heart sank in his chest as his eyes adjusted in the gleam, and he caught sight of the one who stood in the doorway.

He smirked again at his sudden cringe of fear, and he flicked his black hood back, revealing the face of a man who appeared middle-aged, with his black hair combed back, his thin face void of wrinkles, a pair of simple spectacles sat upon the bridge of his narrow nose, and his dark eyes cold and deadly. "Sir Malachi," he greeted, "I hope your stay in these fine accommodations has been most enjoyable, if not eventful."

Sir Malachi nothing, but he narrowed his brown eyes in anger.

He simply shrugged, stepping inside the cell as he folded his hands behind his back, looking down upon the helpless creature at his feet. "You know of the circumstances, I trust," he said evenly, his tone remaining completely calm yet commanding and cold. "So, you will do as I say, and I will grant you your freedom. Fail me, and I will kill you where you stand, and not just take your leg like the last time you defied me. Is that understood?"

Malachi stole a glance at the stick that had taken the place of his left leg, and then he looked back up and glared at the man. "…and what of my family?" he probed, "What of thine promise to free them?"

He smiled, though there was not a trace of warmth in it. "Don't worry, I will set your wife and your two children free as well. I'm a man of my word."

'Clearly,' Malachi mused sarcastically in his thoughts, keeping his beak shut unless he wanted to lose it, 'no doubt that invading and destroying two cities, killing the creatures of the Dark Forest out of cold blood, and then enslaving thousands is keeping his word to never setting foot outside of his borders again.'

"Very well," Malachi sighed reluctantly, bowing his head in shame, "I will do as thou command…Lord Bishop."

Lord Bishop nodded. "Excellent," he said, and he flicked his wrist once more, the chains falling from around the sparrow as he stood up. Bishop then put his hand out in front of him, and in a swirl of red mist, a long wooden staff with a mystical blue egg at its top appeared, and it floated out towards Malachi as he grasped it in his clawed, feathery hand.

"I believe that staff belongs to you, Malachi," Bishop said as he turned towards the door, "I return it to you, trusting that you try nothing reckless, understand?"

Letting out a low growl, Malachi bowed his head again. "Yes, my master. To where shall my services to thou take place first?"

Bishop smiled that wicked smile again. "We start in my study. I want you to conjure something special for me."

Malachi nodded, and he followed Bishop out of the cell and back out into the main chasms of the gold mine. His eyes softened in sympathy for the poor Munchkin people. They deserved so much better than this…and here he was, helping the man who had done this to them, because he was too weak to stop him himself.

He was known throughout all of Oz as Sir Malachi the Sparrow Wizard, descendant of the great Highland Wizards of the North. His power and understanding of magic and potions succeeded that of most wizards at his age, and was even regarded fondly by the Great and Powerful Wizard of Oz himself.

And yet, when his homeland needed him the most, he was powerless against the power that Bishop held. Within mere moments, the battle was over, with Malachi too weak to even fly as he was forced to watch his home, the land in which he was born and raised, burned to the ground, and his friends and family dragged away or killed on the spot by his Stone Soldiers.

His beloved wife and his two beautiful daughters were all that he had left. It was the hope in seeing them once again, their smiling faces when they reunited, that kept him going, kept him alive.

And he vowed he would see them again, even if he had to work for this filth that dared call himself a sorcerer, he would see them again.

He continued to follow Bishop in silence, until they reached one of the tunnel pathways that led to two large golden doors. Once again, the man flicked his wrist, and the doors opened, revealing a large room filled with shelves upon shelves of ancient scrolls and books, a large round wooden table in the centre, and in the far corner, there was a radiantly burning fire place. Malachi took a moment to gaze around him in slight interest, for he hadn't seen anything like this since his imprisonment, before Bishop cleared his throat as he stood in front of the round table. He then moved aside and gestured the large, thick, red covered and black spine book that lay closed on the table. "It is said that only the Northern Highland Wizards can perform the spells that are written inside this ancient book," Bishop said, folding his hands behind his back as he stared down at the sparrow creature before him.

"I want you to find and create the deadliest poison you can find. I want that poison to take effect slowly, painfully, until the victim simply withers and perishes in his own filth. Is that understood, Malachi?"

Malachi wanted to squash that bug where he stood. What a vile creature he was. No wonder The Great and Powerful had banished him so long ago.

"As thou command, my Lord," he said, "…and dare I ask, whom does thou wish for me to inflict with this poison you speak of?"

The smile that Bishop sent him was neither sane nor was it insane, but it was filled with malice. "…The known throughout all of Oz as the Kame Child," he said slowly, "The bearer of the Sacred Crimson Orb…Michelangelo."

Malachi gasped, his eyes growing wide with horror. "N-no! Y-you cannot! This is madness!" he cried, "You cannot send the brave hero – that innocent child – to such a hideous demise! You horrid, soulless –"

"I don't care of whom or what he is!" Bishop blared, silencing the sparrow wizard, "All I care about, is that you follow my direct orders, or I will kill you and your family. And besides…" he stepped closer to the bird and sneered coldly.

"...once I am ruler of Oz, that 'hero' of yours could never hope to stop me."

Malachi's breath hitched, his blood turning cold as he stared up at the man. He was mad, completely insane. Those years of banishment and isolation had twisted him beyond repair, far worse than The Shredder had been…

Bishop smirked as he stepped back, his calm demeanour restored as he motioned the book with his hand. "Now…get on with it," he urged.

Though he wanted to disobey, and every fibre of his being told him to smite this husk of a man where he stood and flee from this wretched place, he knew that he couldn't. Bishop could fell him with ease…and as for his family…they wouldn't even stand a chance…

With a resigned sigh, he moved towards the book and picked it up carefully in his hands, blowing off the coat of dust. "…as thou wish, my master," he said, and he flicked through the book's contents, not stopping until he found what he was looking for. The Poison Spells.

His clawed finger traced down the page as his keen eyes scanned for the most deadly poison.

A slow death, filled with unyielding agony, until death's sweet release.

It was wretched. It was against everything he stood for as a wizard…but for the sake of other lives, it had to be done.

Finally, he found what he was looking for. It was a very old but very powerful poison spell, created by one of the very first wizards in Oz, long before the time of the Great and Powerful. As he read through the spell requirements, his blood chilled and his heart seemed to beat furiously against his ribcage. He stole a glance at Bishop, who watched him with the patience of a snake and the smile of the devil.

"That one," he said.

Malachi swallowed thickly. "…y-yes, my master," he replied shakily, setting the book down on the table as he took a few steps back. With his staff in both hands, he closed his eyes and focused, reciting the words of the spell in his head as his body began to rise off the floor, glowing bright blue as he opened his eyes, which had also gained an azure hue. Mystical smoke began to encircle him, creating currents of wind that blew papers across the room and killed the flames in the fireplace, plunging the room into darkness apart from the sparrow wizards' body. The smoke began to turn from a light blue to a deathly red as it swirled around the room. Bishop remained unaffected as he observed with villainous glee.

In a tongue only his kind could understand, he began to chant the spell, his voice echoing as his staff glowed red at its tip.

"Zenzan malculan horoko zutho… Ifalas zaras I e zaraq…IfalaszarasIezaraq!"

He raised his hands in the air, and the red smoke exploded upwards, twisting and morphing in the shape of a soulless red skull…

…the sign of Death…

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Michelangelo shrieked, jumping upright in his bed and falling out onto the floor with a thump, his face drenched in sweat as he breathed heavily, hugging his duck taped teddy bear close to his chest. His baby blue eyes were wide and unseeing as they stared straight ahead, brimming with tears of fear. He sat up on the ground and put a shaking hand over his heart, which was thumping rapidly against his chest as he heaved.

What the heck was that? Some kind of weird, twisted dream or something? It felt so real, as if he was actually there…almost like a vision or something.

The sound of his door groaning open snapped him out of his trance as he looked up, finding his older brother, Leonardo, standing in the doorway and instantly moving again once he saw Mikey on the floor. "Mikey, are you okay?!" he cried, his voice almost frantic as he knelt down in front of him and placed a hand on his shoulder, "I heard you scream, is everything alright?"

Seeing the slight apprehension in his older brothers' eyes, Mikey forced himself to take a deep breath and calm himself down. "…I…It was a nightmare, I think," he stuttered, struggling to find his voice, "But…it felt so real…a-and I saw a giant red skull!"

Leo raised a brow. "A giant red skull?" he repeated.

Mikey nodded fearfully. "Yeah! T-there was this evil lookin' dude with a cloak on and he…uh…I can't remember what he was doing, b-but then there was this huge red skull made of smoke!" His body began to tremble in fear as he looked up at his brother. "…dude, does that mean I'm gonna die?" he quivered.

Leo looked into his baby brothers' eyes, smiling as he placed both hands gently on his shaking shoulders. "Mikey, it was just a bad dream," he said, and he pulled Mikey closer for a warm hug, patting his shell gently. "Nothing's going to happen to you, or anyone else. You know I wouldn't let that happen, right?"

Mikey pondered for a moment as he hugged Leo back, shifting his eyes to the side. A moment later, he nodded. "Yeah. You're right, Leo," he said, hugging him tighter as he smiled, "You'd kick their ass if anyone tried to get to the rest of us."

Leo chuckled, letting his choice of language slide for the time being. "Well, that's what brothers do, Mikey," he replied. And it was true. Leonardo would do everything to make sure that his family were safe, no matter what the odds. It was his duty as a leader and as an older brother, a duty that he gladly carried.

After he sensed that enough time had passed, Leo released Mikey enough so that he could look at him again, wiping the tears from his freckled face with his thumb. "So, you think you'll be alright on your own now?" he asked.

Mikey's smile disappeared as he shook his head. "No."

Leo chuckled again. "You want me to stay?"

Mikey grinned again and nodded. "Heck yeah!"

Within mere minutes, Leo and Mikey were lying back in Mikey's bed, with Leo fast asleep with his arms wrapped securely around Mikey's shoulders, and his chin resting on top of his head as his little brother cuddled into him, wedging the teddy bear in-between them. However, even with his big, strong brother sleeping by his side, keeping the darkness and nightmares at bay, Mikey laid awake, softly tracing the old cracks and chips on Leo's plastron.

What was that dream about? And why did those lands seem so familiar…?

Mikey's eyes blinked wide in realization. He knew that land. He had been there before, months and months ago...

And something told him that he was going back there pretty soon…

A/N: Wow...

Also, if any of you have watched or played Sonic and the Secret Rings or Sonic and the Black Knight, then you'll see the magic words I used are based off that...I don't own those either.

Anyways, tell me what you think, and more chapters are on the way!