A/N: I don't know if I will ever get my butt in gear and finish my POTC fiction or Riddick fiction. I have been promising the others for so long, and yet I have not put my mind to it. It seems as if Mikey has been preoccupying my mind for far too long.
Nope, that's not it. Anyway, I hope you enjoy my second, and possibly my last TMNT fiction, unless I get another idea. So, enjoy it while it lasts. This will entail my original characters from my first fiction, because this is what we like to call a SEQUEL. Please do not read unless you have read the first one, thank you. And lovely reading to you.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the turtles or any of the characters from the movies, tv shows or comic books. I only own the plot of my stories and my sweet OC's which have been made from real people, like me. Please do not sue, some say I may have talent, but I defiantly have no money.
You Will Never Walk Alone
Prologue:
A petite, nineteen-year-old woman raised her arm to point at a building a few dozen feet ahead of her. Her newly bleached platinum hair swept over her eyes and still had a few dozen bits of mud or died blood matted in the strands. She took a deep breath and looked through the front windshield of the police cruiser. It was hard to come back to this place for her. The building was a few stories high and a dark shadow seemed to cover the structure with darkness and evil ideals. What she had endured in that place only proved that point. What he had done to her… should never have been endured by anyone. No one. She closed her eyes and turned away, grabbing the edge of the blanket tighter around her shoulders.
"Is this it? Is this the place that he took you, Celeste?" a young man asked the woman in the back of his cruiser.
The woman only nodded and began to sob, "Yeah… he-"
"That's enough," another woman lightly pushed the young uniformed officer away from the woman and knelt next to the open cruiser door, "Thank you, Celeste."
"For what?" she sniffed and looked down at her apparently very confused. What had she done that merited thanks from the NYPD. From a detective from the NYPD no less.
"From what you told us we can get this scumbag from hurting any other women. He'll be going away for quite a while. That is if he comes peacefully. Either way, he will never hurt you again," she looked at the woman sympathetically, "Do you want the officer to take you home now?"
"Ca- can I go… to my mother's instead?" she wiped at her face and looked at the other woman.
"Of course," she nodded and looked at the officer as she shut the door, "Make sure you do not talk to her anymore about the case and drive her directly to her mother's. Make sure that she is safely inside with another person. Got it?"
"Yes ma'am," he nodded and got into the car.
"Detective?" another uniformed officer called from the side of the street.
She brushed the dirt from her brown overcoat that reached down to her knees and was tied securely over her new black turtleneck sweater and dark blue slacks. Her long braided auburn hair swept from side to side as she walked toward the other cruisers at the side of the street. Her badge shown from its place secured on a chain that was placed around her neck.
"What's the haps?" she asked as she made it to the first car. The other uniformed gentlemen looked at her weird, but then shook their heads to remind themselves who it was they were looking at.
"We have reason to believe that he is still in there. His car was seen out back and there is movement inside," another man in a suit said from her side, "I just hope that he doesn't have another victim in there."
"Carson, didn't expect to see you here," she said looking at him and took the bulletproof vest that he was handing her.
"I am your partner," he said amusingly while he loaded his pistol and checked his own bulletproof vest.
"You aren't thinking about crashing his party, are you?"
"Of course. You going to join me?" he snapped the clip in place on his pistol and looked at her, "I know how you love parties."
"Why not?" she shrugged and checked her pistol.
Before they began to walk toward the building with vests and a few other armed police officers Carson turned to his partner, "Did you ask, 'What's the haps' back there?"
"Yeah, why?" she began to whisper as they drew closer to the building.
"Who says that anymore?" he rolled his eyes and looked around the side of the building.
"You'd be surprised how many people still say things that we all thought were dead," she smiled.
"Yeah but," he paused for a moment as he moved from the side of the building to a large crate on the other side. His partner followed closely and let him continue, "I mean, how old are you now?"
"Twenty- four. What's your point?" she smiled as if she was playing a game.
"Never mind, let's get focused. We are dealing with a rapist/murderer here."
"Okay, no problemo," she play saluted and ran to the next crate.
He smiled and shook his head as he found that his small lecture had no affect on his partner. She looked back at him with her back to the crate and signaled to Carson. He nodded and signaled that he would go on the side, while she would take the other. They were both on their own and the other vested police forces would not come in until they were sure on a victim or hostage. He noticed before he left that her face turned immediately serious as she slipped into the main portion of the old factory. She knew when to shut up and get going. Even in the academy, she was the goof off, but still knew when to get it together.
She slowly went from crate to crate, trying to stick to the shadows and reduce her noise as much as possible. It was strange; she could still hear Carson on the other side of the factory, scrapping his shoes on the floor. He has to be careful about that. One day someone will be waiting to hear the shoe scrapping on the floor and give him a nice bullet wound through his torso, if not his head. Soon enough she saw a cleared out section of the factory surrounded by huge stacks of boxes and crates. At the back of her mind, a memory of another factory and crates began to emerge. She reached over and touched her right side from the recent memory and then looked at the devices surrounding her.
In the center of the cleared area there were what looked like chains and cuffs. Whips and other torture devices littered the floor. What looked like dried blood was still seen around the two small drains at the sides of the clearing. He was cleaning the floor in a hurry; probably pushing whatever was left of his last victim's blood down the drains and preparing for his next one. Unfortunately that was Celeste. Fortunately she was smart enough to run when she did. Otherwise, she may have been pushed down the drain as well. If this whole torture set up was new to her she would want to throw up, but if there was another victim she would have to keep it in. She would have to save them. From the set up, it was probably not probable that he did have another victim all ready, but she never knew.
Suddenly a shot rang out and a man's scream from across the factory floor could be heard. She knew that it was Carson as soon as it faded. She ran from the torture scene and made it over to a crate where she could overlook Carson laying on the ground with a bullet wound on his leg. It looked like it was just a flesh wound and didn't actually go through the leg. From the look of it, it was only a clip and he would be fine. She quickly scanned the area and the other crates where someone could be hiding. They were trying to draw her out with Carson. They knew that if he was in danger and out in the open that she would do something to save her partner. And at the weak moment they would have an open shot at her. She took a deep breath and looked above her. At the very top of the factory she could see a closing skylight and a movement of a shadow. It may be her imagination. It had to be her imagination. There was no way that Burgand could climb that high. He was too bulky.
A bullet ricocheted off the crate she was hiding behind and she quickly ducked and pressed her back to it.
"Give it up, Burgand! You had a good run, but slipped up when Celeste escaped from this run down shed you threw her in!" her strong female voice called into the huge building. She pulled on her vest and tightened it to her breast. She was going to use ever advantage that she had.
"You really think you can bring me down, bitch?" another voice called out from among the many crates and boxes in the old factory, "What do you think you can do what your partner couldn't, huh? He took that bullet in the leg and you just sat behind that crate like the dumbfounded bitch that you are."
"Big words for a guy that is looking at life," she called out and closed her eyes, trying to focus in on where his voice was coming from, "Or the needle."
"That's only if you catch me."
His voice was moving. She could tell he was trying to get a shot on her, but she all ready knew where he was, "What makes you think I won't?"
She stood up and took a dive roll to another crate before he could get a good shot at her. About three shots were fired from what sounded like a semi-automatic. He knew what he was doing. It showed in his hiding skills and shots. He probably was an avid hunter before he started to target young women as his prey. She pressed her head to the back of the crate and started to talk over her shoulder.
"Carson? You still there?" she asked worried for her partner who was out in the open the last time she saw him.
"I'm good," he called from behind a crate he reached, "Thanks for the diversion."
"Yeah, now put it to use and get your ass out of here," she called out and saw him limp behind another crate not that far away. He nodded at her and began to make his way back to the entrance where armed and vested police officers could help him to an ambulance.
"All right, Burgand. Just you and me," she called out and put her gun back into it's holster. She never liked firearms all that much, even though her dad did take her to the firing range when she was younger. In a way she saw it more of a hobby and less as a way of self defense against dangerous individuals. She much rather liked the hand's on approach to things.
"Good," she heard him whisper from one of the other close by crates.
Her eyes widened, but she did a back flip to get out of the way as a bullet hit the center of the crate which could have been the center of her chest. She got up on her legs and looked at the surprised man in front of her. He held one of the stolen automatic rifles reported missing a few days ago tightly in his grasp. She started to even out her breathing and stared him down. She knew that the guns were connected to the murder of another woman off of the west side, but didn't even think to connect it to Burgand.
"Now what, bitch?" he nodded at her, "You ain't going to stop me."
"I'm not, huh?" she took off her vest and put it on the ground, "That sounds like a challenge."
"You got balls for a chick," he smiled and started to bring up the gun. He looked at her up and down and started to shake as if he had the chills or something, "You taking off that vest… it kind gets me excited, you know?"
She stared him down, "Don't be. The vest will only slow me down."
Without him even knowing it, she jumped forward and kicked the rifle from his hands and let it slide across the floor. She kicked him in the chest and jumped back from him to see how he managed. He looked at his gun that was now a good twenty yards from him and then at the woman in front of him. He began to back up toward his gun until she ran up and kicked him from behind his knees, making him fall back to the cement and applying pressure to his neck with the heel of her boot.
"Now, as I was saying earlier… how will you like to spend the time you have left of your life in a jail cell?"
"Like I will ever see one," he grabbed her ankle and tossed her from him, making her hit against the surrounding crates hard. She fell to the floor, a little shaken, but tried to recover quickly. Apparently not quick enough. He jumped up and pulled her from the ground, punching her on the right side of her face once he got her standing. He pulled her back up and held her in a choke hold.
"I ain't going to go back to jail," he hissed as he drew closer to her, "Now that I see you up close, I think that I might just have found my new target…"
"That's what you think," she got out from her throat as she smiled and looked behind him.
He looked confused and before he could completely turn around he dropped to the floor as a shadow jumped back to the top crates. Her feet gently hit the ground and she felt her jaw to make sure it was not knocked out of place. She looked down at him and kicked him in the stomach just for good measure. She knew the hit to the back of his neck would take him out, but she couldn't help but add a personal touch. She wiped the blood from the side of her mouth and looked at the red streak on her hand.
"Merry Christmas… I gotta stop being so cocky," she shook her head and put her vest back on before the squad of police officers over took her position. They took a look at her and then at the suspect and took him away.
She stepped out of the factory and tilted her head from side to side to crack anything that she needed and headed toward the ambulance. Once she made her way over she smiled and shook her head at her partner.
"Do you think there could ever be a time in which you are not injured, Carson?" she asked with a chuckle to her voice.
"Well, excuse me oh great Detective Delaney Chasin," he rolled his eyes and cursed as the EMT tightened the wrap around his leg.
"It looks like someone's going to the hospital," she said in a singsong voice as another EMT looked at her jaw and any other areas that may have been injured, "And surprise, surprise it isn't me.
"Well, at least I don't have to do any paper work tonight," he sneered and looked up at her, "Did you happen to bust out in your kung-fu stuff?"
"Carson…" she glared at him as the EMT applied something to her face before she could take it back off.
"Come on, Delaney. Did I miss it?"
"You didn't miss any kung-fu," she rolled her eyes and began to walk toward the cruiser that was loading up the semi-conscious Burgand. She could see Carson's relief that he didn't miss any of the big action and then gave him a mischievous smile, "It's Ninjitsu. Not Kung-fu. I swear, you must be the most immature guy on the force."
"Hey, just take it easy!" he yelled at the EMT as he was loaded into the ambulance.
She shook her head and made her way to the cruiser and made her statement to the correct people. She took off her vest and handed it to one of the other officers.
"How much of a mess is in there, Chasin?" the sergeant came up to her.
"He has a nice little torture set up toward the middle. Whips, chains, even drains for the blood from the victims… the whole works. These women had to go through Hell before he actually killed them," she shook her head and sneered at the back of the cruiser that was carrying the scum away, "I'm glad he is going away for a long time. I think that we also have to look into his involvement in the Wilmer shooting."
"Why is that?"
"He has at least one of the stolen rifles. He may have killed her to shut her up," Delaney shook her head slightly and hissed from her jaw.
"You should have that looked at," the sergeant said to her pointing at her jaw.
She nodded and held the right side of her face in one hand, "I'll have someone look at it as soon as I get home."
"You and Carson did a great job tonight," he patted her on the back, "Now, go home and get some sleep. It's been a tough night."
"Yes, sir," she smiled and made another salute as she trudged off to her car. She looked back at the scene and watched the force look over the building and the other objects that may be hiding more rapists or murderers. Taking a deep breath she looked up at the top of the apartment building and smiled. On top of one of the fire escapes, there was a shadow of a strange creature that only the tabloids seemed to write about.
Delaney Chasin opened the door to her two-bedroom apartment and threw off her coat and belt to the side and locked the door behind her. In the past six years through the academy, street work and her past cases, she has never seen or heard of a longer case in her precinct. He has been at it for the past year, dormant for about nine months and then started up again. It was a tough night bringing him down, like she had imagined it would be, and her jaw was starting to hurt like Hell. He had a good left hook, she would give him that.
For the past six years, she has been training not only in her police work, but keeping up in Ninjitsu as well. Thank goodness for it, because if it wasn't for it she would probably be buried six feet under about twice over by now. She has grown stronger from the time that her parents were murdered and her adventure began. Both physically and emotionally. She had many people to thank for both, but no one more than that very special some one.
Before she trudged to the kitchen someone cleared their throat from her smaller living room. She stopped in mid stride and turned toward the dark living room where the couch was situated. The faint lights from her lit Christmas tree shown on the face of the intruder and she just slowly shook her head.
"I thought I was going to beat you home this time," she smiled the best she could and watched as a giant mutant turtle walked out of the darkness and into the light, "Damn you and your agility."
"Yeah, my agility just saved your ass, dear," Michelangelo held out a cold compress for her jaw and pressed it against her right side, "I just wish I was fast enough to save your jaw."
"It'll be all right," she kissed his cheek and turned on the lights to her living room, "Everyone wishes that they were faster."
"At least he's down for the count now," he settled in next to her and put an arm around her shoulder.
"Thank God," she let a breath out, "Did you see the set up he had in there? What those women must have gone through… it's bad just thinking about it."
"Then don't," he nudged the side of her left cheek and began to nuzzle against her skin, "Just relax and take a break. You've been working on this case for the past six months."
"Me?" she turned toward him, "I believe that you, my dear silent partner, was there by my side the whole time and you deserve your rest as much as I do."
"I say amen to that," he yawned and stood up, stretching his arms. He looked at the corner of the room where a Christmas tree was lit and the chasing lights were winding around the tree. His eyes began to roam down the tree and settled on the presents below the green branches. He looked at her and then grinned, "So... whatcha' get me?"
"You have to wait for about a few days to find out," Delaney rolled her eyes and smiled back at him. She stood up and yawned, "I'm going to take a shower. Then I'm going to bed. You coming?"
"In a little," he sighed.
She slitted her eyes and looked at him, "Michelangelo, don't you dare try to shake those gifts. You have to wait."
"Okay, okay..." he sighed and kissed her forehead.
She smiled and walked off toward her back bedroom and the adjoining bathroom. After he heard the shower going on he took the closest box to him and began to listen for anything. He looked back toward the hallway just to make sure she wasn't watching and began his work. He took a few shakes and heard a noise resembling glass-hitting cement. He grimaced and put the present back down... he'll blame it on the packaging... unless she did it.
Oh well... it will be an interesting Christmas nonetheless.
A/N: I know, weird ending for the first chapter, but I like it. It's a start of a new fic people! And I'm on a roll! Merry Christmas if I don't get the next chapter up soon enough.