April stretched, set down her glass mug of coffee and walked over to the pulley system. It was quite like what rock climbers use, not that April was entirely fond of scaling mountains. She did enjoy the occasional book, however, and since most were scavenged from trash cans, they were usually not the most exciting of topics.

Giving her old, worn typewriter a fond pat as she passed by, April strapped herself in and pulled on the wire, shooting her into the air. The first time she had used this it had been frightening. Luckily time and necessity did well to soothe fears, and April was no longer frightened of heights.

Soon she was face-to-machine with the city's clock. Pulling a wrench from her leather handy belt, she swung forward and grabbed onto one of the cogs. It had been squeaking and thus imperfect, which wasn't good; the Mayor hated imperfection.

She oiled it thoroughly before tightening a few things. It moaned a little, but soon spun without issue. April smiled. She did the rest of the Clock's daily maintenance before heading back down. She washed her hands so only a faint gray stain remained and went to sit down at her typewriter. Cracking her fingers, April hunched over the machine.

She had been out this morning to buy breakfast and had glimpsed an attempted robbery. It had been stopped by a mysterious hero who vanished soon after. This hero (or heroes, for it seemed like there may be more than one) had been the topic of many a tale as of late.

April's fingers itched to type about them, but duty stalled her hands. She did not know if it was because she was pretty and therefore the perfect face for less strenuous articles or if it was simply because the editor in chief didn't like her, but April was never allowed to so much as come close to the bigger stories. She did the best she could at this job but promotion seemed further away then the clock starting to sing a merry jig.

Full of despair, April dropped her head to the table. A quiet ticking met her ears and she turned slightly to stare at her father's pocket watch. She ran her fingers across the smooth metal, gathering strength from it.

Sitting up, she took a deep breath and began typing about the latest gossip.

April pulled on her gloves as she walked. They were sleek, light brown leather that matched her crop top. She wore her father's old trench coat. She had always had a taste for fashion, but after losing her dad she had forgotten what it felt like to care about such frivolous things.

It was raining heavily and people were hurrying back into their homes before the lightening started. April was determined to bring what she had written to the office, though: there could be a swirling tornado and she would still be yelled at for being late.

She decided to cut through and alley to save time. Spitting her long hair out of her mouth, she narrowed her eyes in an attempt to see better. The air was thick with water and fog, so she didn't notice when a cloaked man began following her. After a few her steps her nose hit a dead end and she took a step back, confused.

"Shit," She murmured and turned around to see a man.

He smiled hungrily, and April shook away her shock as she reached for her pocket knife. He grabbed her, pinned each arm above her head and sniffed her neck.

He was strong; no matter how many times she kicked he wouldn't let her go.

"I've been following you for days," He purred. "Waiting for you to wander into the right place."

He started to pull her shirt off.

"Help!" Her voice was broken by the storm, and the man slammed her into the alley wall. Seeing stars, April sank to the ground as she lost consciousness.

The man shrugged and was about to bend down to continue when a chain wrapped around his throat.

She woke up in a room that smelled like incense. Her eyes were still blurry with the injury to her head, and she felt a wave of dizziness overcome her when she sat up.

The walls were covered sketches, mostly just pencil but with the occasional spot of blue watercolor coloring the more beloved drawings.

April frowned and rubbed at the back of her head, where a large bump had appeared. It hurt like hell. Pushing the tattered blue blanket from around her waist, she attempted to stand.

Her knees buckled and she would have hit her head on the wall again had it not been for the two large hands grabbing her waist and steadying her. April froze, every survival instinct begging her to attack.

"Please, don't be scared," A soft voice encouraged. "Take a breath."

This was good advice, and she decided to follow it. She had just steadied her breathing when she actually decided to turn and look at the person touching her.

Except, it wasn't a person: it was a monster. It was a strange, mutated terrapin, with a black strip of fabric with two eyeholes wrapped around his face like a mask.

Her eyes widened, and she let out a blood-curdling scream. The turtle hissed and grit his teeth, throwing her over his shoulder. She slammed her fists against his shell and he laid her back on the bed, tucking her in with the blanket so she couldn't move.

The curtain covering the doorway was pulled aside, and another monster poked its head. "Sounds like she's awake-what the hell are you doin', Leo?"

Leo seemed nervous and paced back and forth. "I don't know! She wouldn't stop screaming when she saw my face!"

The other one chuckled. "I feel you, girly; you ain't alone. Don't worry Leo, I got this."

He walked over and pinched a spot on her neck. April's eyes rolled back in her head and she let out a gasp as the light left her eyes.

Raph smirked at the look on his brother's face. "Told you I had a way. Never said you'd like it."