All right the deal with this one-shot is that I was checking out the profiles of my reviewers when I came to Pinguin1993's profile and I was reading it when I found where she listed her favorite authors. I was surprised to find I was on the list of just five authors. Wow…
Anyways, she said I was one her favorite authors because of my "scary evening stories" I'm not really sure what it meant but it just gave me the inspiration to write this. I tried to make it as creepy as possible.
I don't own TMNT.
The humanoid ninja turtle stepped forward, his blood stained green foot scraping across the yellow stones of his home. He paid no attention to the blood mixing into the sewer water or the missing front door. If his eyes reflected the light from the surrounding small fires, he didn't acknowledge them. For every drop of blood that fell from the cuts that littered his body, he heard a cry in the distance. There were two distinct ones, one of suffering and one of begging. The cries merged when he stepped forward again and felt a broken stone slice through the bottom of his foot. He supposed it didn't matter, he was already blood stained, the surrounding yellow stones of his home were bloodstained, and the bodies that lay over the floor were bloodstained as well. It was all blood.
He kneeled by the closest form, taking in the gray fur, matted together in places where his blood had long dried. The eyes were open, but the jaw was shattered, obscuring the once proud face. The body itself lay twisted in every which way. The head to the left, the neck to the right, the arms bent backwards, the legs twisted together, as if in a knot. He had been the first, thank goodness for it had been a long time. A long enough time for most of the blood to travel along the cracks of the stones and into the sewer outside. Reminding himself to remain numb, the turtle climbed back on his feet. He didn't want to see the others but he supposed he should. It could only help. After all, what left you broken, made you better.
He made his way over to the old couch he and his family had used so much that it probably would've fallen apart if someone tried to sit on it once more. Unfortunately, it was overturned, casting a large shadow beneath. When they were younger he and his brothers used to use it as a fort. They had thankfully rescued it from their first home, that was in even worst shape than this home, though the attack hadn't been so severe on the first. He reached out and pulled the couch back letting it fall onto it's back. As the shadow obediently followed it's master, it revealed a green form. Another humanoid turtle was curled up on the floor, lifeless. Curled up, he seemed so young and innocent, like he was before. Well, the live being took a closer look, it appeared that this one had went fast. There were deep slashes into his shell, part of the spine was poking through the broken plates. The blood was long congealed, the color a rusty brown instead of the rusted shade of the first's blood or the crimson that was leaking into the stream outside.
The turtle took a deep breath and walked back outside, his two toed foot hitting the arm of another like him. He stared down at two others like him. Both were soaked with dark earth tinted congealed blood spots while blood from a broken pipe above dripped crimson plasma onto their already empty bodies. He supposed the first one to go down was the one without a head. This one was a bit closer to the door than the other but the way the neck had been cut, the strike hadn't been directed to behead this one. The enemy was either distracted or his brother was blocking an attack aimed for the other. It was most likely just that. Old habits die- well died hard after all.
The arm his foot had hit remained lifeless as it's owner. It must have been lonely, for it was the only one. Just the right arm, the left arm glared silently from across the tunnel, the legs weren't anywhere to be seen. That one hand was still clenched, as if was still attempting to achieve vengeance so perhaps the headless one had blocked an attack. Speaking of which, the headless one was also shell-less. The brown, protective armor they all wore had been stripped off, leaving a much disgusting scene in plain sight to any curious eyes. The one limbed one was facing upward, it's mouth turned downwards but his eyes remained narrow. He wasn't sure what headless was like though, for the head was no where in sight, like his shell.
He glanced through the doorway, then at the two forms at his feet before he walked down the tunnel and raised a hand to his blood soaked mask, it would've stood out if there had been a slight brightness to the sewers. All the times, all the fear. He was alone. Once down the tunnel, he came to a grate the lead to the streets, the silver rays of the moon cascading down onto two mangled heaps in the sewage water below. The slow streaming of water was black with minuscule lines of crimson between it's waves. He glanced at the faces that were halfway buried in the water. Red, mangled hair stared back at him as the strands seemed to want to bleed into the slow current like the blood. The black, slightly, blue tinted hair was probably the same but it blended into the blackness of the water. Everything else was black or ruby tinted. The turtle turned and found the nearest escape to the surface.
As the night whispered it's words of peace to the wind, it was shot silent when the sound of a scrapping manhole cover made the peace she strived for unattainable. A crimson mask stood out against green skin as a form climbed into the lighter darkness above the sewers he had called home for so long. He glanced up at the moon as his two toed feet hit the asphalt.
Alone, numb, frightened and screaming internally…
…Donatello looked on silently, with hardly a physical distortion to show his terror. He closed his eyes…it was all over… now all over. It was too unfortunate, that he couldn't see the approaching shadow behind him…
HAHA! I'M EVIL!
That was weird to write but kind of uh, what's the word I'm looking for…placated?
Well, hope it either entertained you, or at least sounded creepy to you. Yay for alternate dimensions!
"MOONSETTA I WILL KILL YOU!" Don yelled.
Oh no, he found the sledgehammer. O_O Gotta go! Bye! 0_0 AHHH!
~Moonsetta