~Chapter One~
~Sparky and Red~
I have never been so pissed off in my entire life. Enough is enough, something has to be done, and someone has to do it. That someone is me, the only problem is I have no idea what that something is—yet. I am working on it as I go.
Michelangelo and Raphael have been at their petty war for weeks now. Mike will prank Raph, and then the now angry Raph will swiftly beat up the well deserving prankster. Inconveniencing everybody within a four mile radius! Their little battle is not just during the day. The sacred little time during the night that is supposed to be restful and relaxing, is shattered by constant banging and bantering dialog barely discernable from all the earth-shattering noise. For Example:
"Catch me if you can Raph!"
"Mike you are so dead! Com'eer!" CRASH!
"You're never going to catch up to me if you keep running your head into things Raph, maybe you should get it checked out. It can only improve your looks." Michelangelo laughs, followed by sounds of metal clanging together.
"Shuddup fuzz for brains." Raphael grunts out a laugh, "Don't worry Mikey, when I get my hands on you I'll make sure you look just as pretty as me." More scuffling sounds ensue.
Michelangelo screams, "Ahh, Raph! No! No, no, no, no, no! Not the face, not the face!"
Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself. I'm Chloe Sypher; I accidentally stumbled upon the turtles when I was seventeen. Well stumbled upon might not exactly be the best way to describe it. Let me see if I can retell my poor me sob storey accurately.
I had been on the run for a few weeks. Let's just say that things weren't exactly kosher at home. I had unintentionally gotten myself into a tangle with the meanest gang around New York City. The Purple Dragons and I didn't pick a fight with just any of the lunk-headed groupie's, it was Hun himself. This guy was big, bad, and 285 pounds of pure muscle. No one wants to mess with him, unfortunately, I have this bad habit of attracting trouble were ever I go. (One of the reasons why I ran away from home)
It was about three weeks after I ran away, that my good luck took a turn for the worst. I had done some digging around town, just to make sure I was still under the radar and no one had come looking for me, when I had turned up some rather interesting information. Apparently Hun had been searching for someone, a boy and all the gangs were buzzing about him, because Hun was going from gang to gang, opening a gigantic can of smack down to get info about the boy. He was about my age, maybe a little older, and he had some "talent" that the guy Hun was working for desperately wanted, and the longer it took Hun to find the kid, the more pressure Hun's employer put on him. I hope I never meet Hun's employer, because anyone Hun's afraid of, I'm afraid of.
One particular night I was scampering back to the warehouse that I had been living in for a few weeks; I thought that it was abandoned. I had successfully evicted all the rats and cockroaches that infested the building. Also, I had found some old blankets in the dumpster behind the warehouse—not the cleanest things in the world but they would help keep the frigid nights at bay. Lucky for me, I was good at hiding, something I have the privilege of thanking my family for.
Anyway, it was late and as I stated earlier I had just come back from a rather successful scavenging escapade. I was carrying the blankets that slightly smelled of fish sticks and mold to the broken window that I used for coming and going. Climbing up the boxes that were ever so conveniently stacked directly beneath the window, I tried to shove in all the blankets at once. It went well 'til they got snagged halfway through the window and wouldn't budge, I shoved and grunted until I felt like an idiot for not just taking them out, and then putting them back through one at a time. I stopped shoving, and changed my footing, grabbing a hold of the blankets I yanked on them as hard as I could, but they were stuck, I had wedged them in so tightly that I couldn't pull them back out. Silently cursing myself for being born a knot-head, I decided to try shoving them again. I took a step back and with a deep breath I slammed my shoulder against the blankets, there was a loud ripping noise and poof! They were through! … Along with me. The force that I had put behind my maneuver sent me flying through the window. I had enough time to think "Ah crap, this sucks…" before I was air born. I didn't have all that much time to say a decent prayer before I hit something that felt way squishier than the ground, and it made noise.
"Oof!"it said when I landed on it.
Slightly stunned and halfway shocked I automatically responded with an embarrassed,"S-sorry! …I had no idea you were—"And that's when my sentence was cut off when four really big masculine hands grabbed me roughly and tossed me on my face.I grunted, and rolled over rubbing my now squished nose.
Looking around for the guys that had invaded my (for lack of a better word) "home", I stood up planning on giving them an earful and possibly sending them packing with a few squished noses of their own. I saw about three guys trying to help up the guy that I landed on, and surveying the room I saw maybe fifteen other guys. The odds weren't too bad, I had dealt with worse. Assuming the guys that were unsuccessfully trying to help the downed giant on the floor were also the guys who were responsible for my new nose job, I walked over there as if I was bigger than any of them and not just half their size, and shoved the nearest guy with as much force as my ninety pounds could muster. He was already off kilter because he was busy pulling the iron giant off the ground. He landed on his side with an "Umph!"
"Next time you decide to help a lady up, make sure she doesn't land on her face! Ya moron!" I yelled at him. Turning to the other two blockheads, that were momentarily stunned by my actions, I said a soft evil purr, "And you two are as bad as him, standing there with your mouths hanging open like a fish out of water, while your buddy has had to pick himself off the floor because you're too stupid to help him up. Seriously it's a wonder that I wasn't killed in your attempt to "help" me up as well!"I waved my arm above my head dramatically. I took a deep breath and opened my mouth to continue, but I was cut off by a deep throaty laugh that shook me to the core.
"You're a feisty little one, who are you?" asked the man the size of a mountain that had once been on the floor.
"Me? Who are you? First you invade my privacy and home, throw me on my face, and now you ask me stupid questions? Seriously where are your manners?" I asked incredulous.
The man laughed cruelly, and came out from behind the two that were in front of him. The blood drained from my face, I knew this guy. He was about the size of a mountain, his head was smaller than his body, he had a tattoo of a purple dragon running up his left arm, and he had three tell-tale scars on his left cheek that looked like some girl had scratched him. My eyes widened in shock, "… Hun…" my voice cracked. As I slowly came to realization of just how much trouble I was in I was wondering why of all the people in New York it had to be Hun that broke my fall. I had landed on New York's most wanted! And to make my humiliation better, I yelled at him! I was so dead! I was going to be one of those girls that ended up on those "Have you seen this child?" posters!
"You know me? That's good, it saves me from the trouble of having to introduce myself." He chuckled, "Now… Who are you? And why are you here, shorty?" He said squatting down to look at me as if he was talking to a five year old.
I stiffened.
I hated it when people commented on my size. I am not short! I am five freaking four thank you very much. I would have you know that I am of average height for a girl my age, and here he was making fun of me. I didn't care how incredibly huge he was, I was not going to stand there and take insults quietly.
"My name is Chloe Sypher, and I'm here because this is where I live, you got a problem with that?" I said practically growling at him. I knew that goading someone five times your size was a bad idea, but if he said one more thing about my height I wouldn't be able to control myself.
"This is your home? How did you get in here? Weren't the doorknobs too high for you? Oh I'm sorry I guess I saw the boxes you pushed over to stand on when I came in." Everyone chuckled at this. Hun looked back over his shoulder at his buddies and smiled broadly like he had just won the lottery or something.
I stood there with my hands balled into fists at my sides, shaking with the fierce fiery anger that was suddenly so uncontrollable that it blinded me. I let out I shrill war shriek and attacked, I drew back my right fist and let it snap forward with all of my weight behind it. When my right hook connected with his face I felt something in my wrist pop, but I didn't let it stop my advance, I took the opportunity to take advantage of the position that Hun was in. I kicked him square in the nads, and watched him crumple to the ground with a satisfying look of intense pain on his face.
I smiled, and bent down next to his ear and as his voice had been momentarily cut off I took the opportunity to gloat and say, "From all of us short people to you, Grundy."
He swiveled his head around to glare at me, and let out a low rumble.
By now all of his lackey's were shaking off the shock that a girl had just kicked Hun where it counts and taken him down in one swift blow. I thought this as good a time as any to get the heck out of there. I turned to run for the door, but true to form my bad luck struck again. One of Hun's goons was a quicker recovery than the others, so when I turned around I found myself looking down the barrel of a handgun. I turned around to see if I could possibly make it to the window and out, but the shock of a gun being pointed at my head gave the rest of the gang time to recover, and get a circle formed around me, and slowly close in on their prey, me.
I saw no way I could win, with no weapons, and with only a slight size disadvantage, I was toast. Some of the gang members were armed with guns and others had baseball bats with nails sticking out of them, somewhere behind me I heard a chain hit the floor. All I could do was close my eyes and wait for impact all the while hoping I fainted before I felt anything. I waited, holding my breath but nothing happened. There was a collective gasp that went through the crowd of menacing men, I halfway opened one eye to see what was going on, and found myself looking at… nothing. It was dark; someone had turned out the light! Why would someone do that if they were going to kill me anyway, wouldn't that make it harder to see what they were doing? As my mind worked on those questions, my eyes were starting to adjust to the dark… There was something in front of my face, it was lumpy and odd shaped looking. I reached out to feel it, it was hard and smooth, what the heck was this thing?
I heard someone say almost nonchalantly, "Now, now is violence really necessary?"
Another voice chimed in, "Oh yes it is!" the guy almost sounded excited, by now I was starting to feel the damage I had caused in my wrist, it was shooting sharp pain up my arm. But I ignored it, and watched in unbelief, as four human sized turtles saved my life.
Hun had recovered himself and was now shouting at his guys to "Kill the turtles!" and to "Leave the girl she's mine."
The wall of shells that once surrounded me was gone, and I was left unprotected, with a very angry mountain looking to squash me, I looked around for something to protect myself with.
One of the turtles had taken down a thug a couple of feet away from me; he was lying in the floor out cold, his gun lying a few more feet from his body. I ran over to it, "Thanks!" I said as I picked it up, I felt a little better with a weapon to protect myself with but in all the confusion, and noise, I was afraid I wouldn't do much good. It didn't matter anyway, within seconds the gun had disappeared and I was staring at a very serious blue clad turtle.
"You don't need that." He said.
He looked very scary, but somehow I couldn't stop myself from feeling like I was being scolded. All I could say was, "But Hun! —" He cut me off, "I will deal with him. Mike! Get her out of here! Now!"
And then he was gone.
Two seconds later I felt a hand grab my injured wrist, I shrieked in pain, and a second later I was being picked up.
I turned my head around to look at a repentant looking orange clad turtle that tripped over his words like he was totally unaware of the fighting that was going on, and over caffeinated, "Hi! Sorry about your hand, we will fix it up good back at the lair, I'm Michelangelo nice to meat you Chloe. Don't worry everything is going to be ok, and for the record I don't think your short, and… wow you're really light by the way—"
He was cut off by someone to our right, "Mike! Stop talkin' her to death and just get outta' here now!"
His face then went through a series of expressions: chagrin, apology, and then it looked like something clicked in his brain and he abruptly became extremely focused. He sprinted to the wall that was lined with huge crates about ten feet high; I thought we were going to run right into them.
I shut my eyes, and held my breath, when I unexpectedly felt like I was air born, I opened my eyes to see we were on top of the crates past the window that I would have escaped through, "Uhhh, you missed the window!" I said watching the rapidly disappearing escape route.
"We aren't aiming for the window, Ms. Smarty-Pants." He said as he jumped onto another crate. That's when I took the initiative and looked in the direction he headed.
There was a ladder in the corner of the building that led to an open trap door in the roof. I assumed that's how they got in without being noticed.
"Oh." I said stupidly.
Down below us I could hear the sounds of Purple Dragon gangsters getting their butts handed to them on a silver platter.
"Hold on tight, and whatever you do, don't scream." Michelangelo said almost seriously.
We were on the highest crate, but we were still a good ten feet away from the ladder, in one swift movement my rescuer slid me under his arm like a football. He wrapped his arm securely around my torso, but the rest of me was stuck dangling like a rag doll facing the ground. Taking two steps back, he sprinted jumping off the crates and launched us into the air.
Normally I wouldn't have screamed like a little girl, except for the fact that we were now seventy five feet in the air, and flying at a wall at a ridiculous speed. And did I mention that I am terrified of heights? So I panicked and the only thing that escaped my mouth was, "AHHHHHHHHH!"
We hit the wall before I could even get halfway through my blood curdling scream. Michelangelo climbed up the ladder and out through the hatch. He set me down on my hands and knees.
I was shaking like a leaf: it felt like I had had one too many red bulls or something. I looked up when Michelangelo started laughing, to see what was so funny. I found him crisscrossed on the roof in front of me with one finger stuck in his ear.
"I thought I said to try not to scream." He said, looking at me smiling.
"I'm afraid of heights you jerk! You could have just told me to close my eyes!" I glared at him still shaking from all the adrenalin coursing through my body.
"Gees, do ya' think she's human?" The voice made me jump. I suddenly realized that we were not alone.
"I mean with a set a pipes like hers, she could set off every dog in New York." The speaker sounded like he had lived in the Bronx most of his life.
At his joke there was a series of snickers including Michelangelo. These were followed closely by someone commenting, "Hey Mike, do you think you could get her scream again? I would love to see if she can break shatter glass in the surrounding blocks. Oh, or any of the car alarms!"
Another round of snickers assaulted my ears.
Starting to gain control of my limbs again, I sat back on my knees, and glared over my shoulder at other three turtles. They stood in a half circle about five feet away from me.
"Oh you guys are sooo clever, I almost forgot to laugh." I said threading as much venom into my voice as possible.
There was a collective chorus of, "Ooooh."
The red clad turtle spoke this time with an amused smile on his face, "She's got some fire, and she's got the mouth to match. Did you see the way she took on Hun? It was like watching a Chihuahua bark at a Doberman"
I ruffled at that comment, pulling out my index finger, "Listen, pal—"
The blue banded turtle interrupted, and said, "Okay, okay! The fun's over. We need to decide what to do with her now that she's seen us. Hun is getting more aggressive with his search, and he knows that we're on to him now—"
The red one interrupted, "Yeah, thanks to her." He said, jabbing his huge evil looking distorted fork at me.
"Hey!" I protested, getting ready to defend myself, but the purple banded turtle butted in.
"Okay okay, let's not point fingers here, Raph."
"Fine, Don. But I was just pointin' out the truth. We need to find out what he's looking for, and why he wants it so bad, and thanks to Sparky over there, our big shot just got thrown in the dumpster!"
That was it! Sparky? What was this, the 1980's? I butted in with, "Listen, Red," strutting over to the loudmouth that thought he was funny, poking him twice in the chest with my index finger. "You don't even know me! And who the heck are you anyway? You're a freaking five-foot tall talking overgrown wannabe ninja with a mask. You come in here, wreck my home, I hurt myself, and then you scare me out of my skin, and you insult me? I'm taller than you! I will squish you like a—"
"Whoa there, cowgirl." Michelangelo stepped in, putting some space between me and Red. "Calm down." Red's arms were folded across his chest, and he had a mildly amused look on his face, which irked me to no end.
"Calm down? I AM calm!" I said, practically screaming at the orange banded giant turtle, throwing my hands into the air for emphasis.
"Okay, everyone, calm down!" The blue, more cool-headed one broke in. "Nothing is going get fixed if we keep arguing."
"Leo, we know." Don put in; he turned to me for a second, and said, "It's Chloe, right?"
I nodded.
He turned back to the one called Leo. "We know what we need to do with her. You heard her, this was her home, and we just wrecked it. She's injured. We can't just leave her here. Hun could possibly come back and take her out just for having the nerve to kick—err…stand up to him." I could tell this turtle was a nerd, just by instinct. He reminded me of those little scrawny dweebs that never wash their hair and would always play YU-GI-OH at lunch all the while sliding their thick cork bottle glasses up their nose with a geeky giggle.
I stood up then, "You don't need to take care of me, I was doing just fine on my own." I said defiantly.
Michelangelo glanced at me with a genuine look of worry, "Yea, about that. Have you seen yourself in the mirror lately? You're as thin as a stick, and don't hurt me for this, but… you smell like you haven't showered for weeks."
I looked at the ground, beet red; the worst part about it was I couldn't even argue with him, because it was true. I hadn't eaten a decent meal in weeks, and I gave up trying not to smell like a hobo after the first week I was on my own. "So what are you going to do with me then? Turn me into the cops?" I asked solemnly.
There was a moment of silence; it felt like they were deciding whether I lived or died. Then mercifully, someone put a hand on my shoulder, "No, but we do know where you can stay. And if you feel comfortable there, you might even call it home after a while."
I turned around, and faced the blue clad turtle they called Leo, who was looking at me like I wasn't just someone they were taking pity on, but someone who actually mattered. I looked at every one of them slowly. The orange clad turtle they called Michelangelo flashed a thumbs up sign at me. Red from the Bronx just grimaced; the purple clad turtle Don, who stood right next to him and leaning on a really long walking stick smiled at me.
Focusing back on the blue banded turtle right in front of me, I said smiling, "You guys don't live in a cave, do you?"
A burst of laughter came from the orange-clad turtle. "Noooot exactly. I like to call it our ginormous superly-cool suped up lair of solitude!"
Don broke in, "Also known as "home," which, being interpreted is the sewers."
I raised an eyebrow, "And that's an improvement from where I live how?"
Red grunted, and said, "No one bothers ya down there. Quit complainin' and come on!"
"Wait!" Don exclaimed, "We can't bring her there yet."
Red raised an eyebrow, "And why not?"
Don began stuttering, and his face became a slightly darker shade of green. "Well, you see, she's gonna need some new clothes and a shower… and I don't happen to have girl clothes in my magic bag of tricks."
"Oh," Red said nonplussed. He turned to Leo, "April's then?"
Leo nodded. "Aprils it is." He agreed.
"Great. Enough with all this yammerin'." He turned around, and began walking toward the ledge of the building, and he threw himself over the ledge.
I felt the blood drain from my face. "Red!" I ran to the ledge and looked down. The insane, obnoxious turtle was not on the ground in a mushed up heap of meat like I imagined in my head. He had somehow made it to the rooftop next door in one piece, and I could hear belly-laughs wafting over toward my ears; he was doubled over with the force of them.
I felt my teeth grate, and I muttered, "Some people think they're just sooooo funny." Straightening up, I turned around to face the other three that had walked up behind me while I suffered embarrassment at the hands of their comrade.
Leo crouched putting one knee on the ground, then quickly looking in my direction said, "Get on."
Suddenly I felt my stomach involuntarily drop to my feet. "Ya mean… Oh no! There's no way you're jumping off this building with me on your back! No freaking way!" I said defiantly, crossing my arms, and sitting down.
Michelangelo snickered, knelt down beside me, and took off his mask. "Just close your eyes." He suggested, while tying his mask firmly around my head, forcing my eyes closed without waiting for me to answer.
"Oh sure, now you tell me!"
Someone lifted me off of the ground princess style, a thick arm firmly around my back like he was giving me a hug. "Hang on tight," he said. It sounded like Michelangelo. I attempted to blindly wrap my arms around his neck, and then I was reminded that my arm wasn't quite in the best of shape for that. I let out a soft, "meep!"
"Ya okay?" Michelangelo asked.
"Oh, nothing. I just hurt myself… carry on." I said, waving my hand off to the side. This time, I moved my arms into position, careful to not bump my wrist.
I heard him shout "Cowabunga!" And then we were airborne. I clamped the scream inside my mouth this time so that I wouldn't blow his eardrum completely to kingdom come.
