warning: This IS a death-fic, and it's more than a one shot. I'm building a little plot before the fated death of a character or possibly more. sadly, I don't own TMNT. Have fun -or not- reading.
*Leo's POV*
My brothers, father, and I have been taken by someone who is called "The Man with the Answers". What we know is that he thinks of us as a question, and that a vivisection will bring the answer. We've all been drugged and chained, stripped of everything but our bandanas, Master Splinter getting to keep his kimono, and treated like common criminals. We are forced down an institutional-looking hallway, with burningly white walls, and the same shade of white doors with hand scanners rather than knobs. Finally we reach one room that the man who leads us affectionately calls the "Prep for Hell" room, and he pushes us in and locks the door. The walls are padded and white, ceiling high, no windows, but thankfully a light. It's slightly dimmer than in the hallway, less painful, but unnerving all the same. It's not a big room, maybe 7 by 7 square feet, but it's bigger than we expected. The door is on the left side, right on the corner, and in the only corner we didn't immediately see sits a silent human girl, sitting in the fetal position, hugging her white long pants close to her white shirt and pale body, and fearfully eyeing us. She has blonde hair, I doubt naturally so, and the only slightly dark things in the room apart from us are her deep brown eyes and black collar with a gold tag on it. We go to the center of the room quietly, and Master Splinter speaks to the girl slowly, carefully. "Do not be shy, we will not hurt you." She shakes her head with a sad smile on her face and stands. She looks about our age, maybe a little younger. Master Splinter continues. "I am Master Splinter and these are my sons, Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello and Michelangelo." He points to each of us in turn. "And you are?" She smiles politely and shakes her head no. Master Splinter frowns. "Do you understand me? Do you know what I said?" She nods quickly. Master Splinter tries again. "What is your name then?" Again we get the shake of her head no for an answer.
Confused and frustrated, Master Splinter stops trying to get her to answer, but Mikey speaks to her as if nothing is out of the ordinary, and for how much calmer she seems, maybe nothing is. "Okay then, No, why are you here?" He gets her to give a full smile and a silent laugh, but immediately she gets serious and pantomimes getting cut open. She pretends to pull the skin back from her lean body, then fakes a curious face as she stares at an invisible organ in her hand she pulled out from inside herself. Dropping the act she looks at us with a clear question on her face, one that says, 'get it?' Mikey assures what he thinks she says, but does so in disbelief. "So they vivisect you?" She nods like it's nothing out of the ordinary. As proof she lifts her shirt lightly to show the long, thin scar along her unnaturally thin middle.
"Oh shell," Donny murmurs, worry on his face. Master Splinter looks simply sad, Mikey looks terrified and a little shocked, and though Raph seems unfazed I know on the inside he's as surprised as I am. Donny speaks slowly, each word careful. "This- it's happened more than once?" She nods affirmation. "How many times?" She seems pensive a moment, then holds up both hands with all fingers spread out, closes her hands, then opens them again with all ten fingers spread out, then closes and opens all but her thumb on her right hand, waving her pinkie up and down uncertainly. "Twenty-four times?" Donny gasps, but the rest of us are in silent amazement. She stops her pinkie when it's down, almost defensively, and he sighs in defeat. "Or twenty-three, I get it. Still… reasonably, you would only have to dissect something once." We mull this over a moment. Whoever vivisects her no longer does it for science. They do it to see her in pain. Donny keeps going. "They do this without anesthesia, don't they?" She nods slowly with a look of, 'well, duh,' on her face. Everyone in the room is stone silent as we try to process what we have just been told via nods and finger numbers. She turns and sits back in the corner, pulling a few somethings out of her pocket. She puts some back then turns to us. Handing each of us a slip of paper, I read mine. It says, in small, curly, fancy handwriting, 'A Confidant'. I look at her with curiosity, confused why she gave me the paper. It's a little smaller than her thumb; it's something that if someone hadn't read would easily pass off as nothing at all. Raph looks annoyed by his, Mikey simply smiles at the slip, Donny looks puzzled by the words on the piece of paper he holds, and Master Splinter smiles softly at his. For some reason, they feel private, special, and something tells me each is different. It's weird, but it seems that with five pieces of paper she has shut us all up temporarily as we think about what is written on each of ours. Or at least, I try to keep figuring it out, but I'm tired. I've been up for two days straight, and I need sleep.
*Master Splinter's POV*
My sons puzzle over their papers, reading and rereading them, as if they might have missed something the first time around. In neat handwriting, mine says simply, 'Hope' in the bottom right hand corner, as if more was to be put before it. The word strikes me deeply, and I'm surprised one so young could be thoughtful enough to make an old rat ponder over a single word. Why did she choose to write Hope? I feel that the message for each of my sons is different, but understand by how careful she seemed while handing them out that it would be rude to press to find out what the other messages were. The drugs we were given are probably to knock us out, and for how tired I am, they work well.
*Raph's POV*
I'm insulted. Some freaky girl in all white won't say a word then hands each of us a piece of paper. Everyone else is either happy about what's written there or confused, but she simply annoyed me. Mine says, of all things, 'A Shoulder to Cry On'. What the shell? Does she think I'm some weakling crybaby or something? I reread mine, wishing desperately I had misread it and it said something different, but no. 'No' wrote exactly what I thought she did. I've never been more annoyed by being right. I'd love to get answers out of her, especially with violence for how angry I am at both her and the man who has captured us, but I'm too tired. Frankly, I just want to sleep.
*Mikey's POV*
I smiled at my slip. 'No' had written 'A Reason to Smile', and it seems wrong if I don't smile at that. I look to my brothers and father. Raph is frustrated as always, Master Splinter looks surprised, and Leo and Don look like they're reading into whatever's written there way too much. They're acting like rather than words on their papers, there are cryptic clues to some long forgotten and necessary knowledge. Whatever, I'm tired and don't really care what's written on theirs. For once, I don't feel like being a snoop.
*Donatello's POV*
I stare down at my paper in confusion. It simply reads 'Love'. I look for more writing, but that's all there is, one simple word. Love. Why? I don't get it. And who is this 'No' chick? Why was she vivisected in the first place, especially so many times? It just doesn't make sense, and nothing's clicking yet. I want to understand, but I can't. For once, I can't, and for how tired I am, I almost don't want to right now. I'd rather sleep. There's a loud beep and 'No' points to the light, and then counts down with her fingers, starting at ten. A matter of what I guess must have been ten seconds later, 'No' reaches zero and the lights go out. Her faint silhouette walks back to her corner and sits back down in the fetal position, just like when we met her. I guess it's time to go to sleep, and I'm thankful as we all settle down and doze off.
Love it? Hate it? Say it! Tell me what you think. If someone Reviews, Favorites, and Alerts this, my promise (as in all stories I will ever write on here) still stands: I WILL yell "I love you (Your penname OR a name of yur choosing)" From the top of a tree. If I get weird stares from neighbor people because I yell that I love lots of people, I will be happy, and probably embarrassed. Even if you don't like my writing at all, Favorite, Alert, and Review just so that I feel awkward and you can laugh.