Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any of the characters from the TMNT franchise as they are either are the property of 4Kids or Saban Entertainment.
Author's Note: For this fic I will be combining two canonical sources – The Next Mutation, along with the 2003 cartoon. I realise that these two series are incompatible in parts, and if you think too deeply about the turtles' back-story, I'm sure there'll be canonical plot holes. Just want to let you know that I am aware of this, and while I will not focus on these inconsistencies, I do hope that you as the reader are willing to just go on the ride with me.
I've never structured a fic like this before, where I cut between past and present, first-person and third. I could've written the entire journal portion of the fic in first person, but instead I decided to have it a bit like the movies, where you experience the past as though it's happening as opposed to simply being told the details. The style will hopefully make more sense in the second chapter when I delve more into the story. But that's it for now, so enjoy the ride.
Chapter 1: The Find
24th May, 2234 A.D.
"Everyone clear?" Mitchell called out. His booming voice reverberated against the moss-covered sewer walls. At first his only responses were the smacks and sploshes of boots hitting water as his men scooted through the puddles that were scattered in amongst the surrounding tunnels. "I said, is everyone clear?" he repeated.
"Yes boss!" One responded. The voice of a second then answered, as though it was a roll call. Then another and another. Hearing confirmation from everyone on his construction team, Mitchell popped in his earplugs, gripped the handle of the detonator and plunged it down.
A ripple of energy ploughed through the sewer tunnel. A split second later came the sound of the explosion. Mitchell flinched at the sound despite the earplugs and out of habit quickly grabbed onto his hard hat as though his hands were going to give his head any more protection.
"That was a strong one!" a colleague remarked.
"Who used too much explosive?" Mitchell asked, coughing a bit between words. The blast had unsettled a lot of residual dust. The view down the length of the tunnel was now obscured. While the explosion was overpowered, Mitchell mused at the thought that at least the troublesome dead end no longer existed.
The construction worker coughed again and blinked his eyes. Mitchell swore that working down in the sewers for six months straight was starting to affect his vision. With Manhattan overcrowded, the mayor was curious to know what secrets lay beneath the city; wondering if maybe a solution to the population and housing problems could be resolved by going underground. Exploring the tunnels in a systematic fashion was a risky and tedious job. Every inch had to be mapped – or at least the maps from a century ago had to be updated. Yet it was a job that Mitchell wanted to be involved with; when he heard that the echo-location sensors had detected a large cavernous room up ahead, he specifically requested to be involved in this area for the day.
"There's light up ahead!" A worker announced.
"Yeah, my eyes are still adjusting to it," Mitchell murmured.
"That's not sunlight…" another worker remarked.
"Let's check it out," Mitchell said.
The team carefully walked to the end of the tunnel. The blast had demolished the dead end all right. Now the surrounding stonework was cracked and was structurally unstable. One of the men inched forward regardless and peered through the hole in the wall that they had created.
"Hey… it's an abandoned subway station!"
"Careful, Nick. This area could be centuries old for all we know," Mitchell warned.
"There's stuff in here…" Nick muttered as he passed through the hole. Seeing it was relatively safe to proceed, the rest of the team followed.
Abandoned was one way of describing it. Mitchell was surprised that the florescent lights were still working. The second thing that drew his attention was the five subway cars parked at the end of the platform. It was so incredibly dated. Old fashioned. Antique. Straight from the late 1900s, the only other time Mitchell had seen that style was in one of New York's transportation museums.
Yet it was the tiles that confused him. They were just a little too white. This wasn't the first time Mitchell had stumbled across an old, forgotten locale, one that used to be important to the civilisation that had left it behind. For a place that was as ancient as this, he expected to see more mould. Maybe moss. Heck, even for it to be covered in rat faeces. But this place still looked relatively clean for it's age, as though it had only been abandoned merely a few decades ago. "Well preserved…" Mitchell softly commented.
He looked around the rest of the platform. His men were fascinated with the piles of junk that littered the room. Magazines. Console games from way too many generations back. Cassette tapes. CDs. DVDs. Blu-Rays. Like a mound of history. When the couch came into view, Mitchell realised that someone had once called this home. It was no wonder the tiles looked so great for their age. But how long ago was it?
"Um… boss?" Nick stuttered. Mitchell couldn't see his colleague at first. Curious, he walked past what seemed to be a kitchenette and, oddly, some antique weaponry, before then making his way into the last subway car. He froze when his eyes locked onto the skeleton sitting at a desk. "What is it?" Nick stammered.
Mitchell's heart beat faster the longer he looked at the creature. It wasn't human. Humanoid, but not Homo sapien. The flesh had already rotted away and the remaining muscle must've been eaten by the sewer rats, but there were just enough tendons remaining to keep the shape of the skeleton together. The most alarming thing was the shell. Like a giant turtle. But it was sitting on the office chair, the plastron leaning against the edge of the table, as though it died slumped over the desk. The arms and legs looked human, except for the very few fingers and toes, all of which looked extremely large. The skull was something completely unfamiliar to Mitchell.
"Do you think it's an Alien? Can't be an Earthling, surely," Nick surmised. Mitchell was too amazed by the sight in front of him to answer. By now the rest of Mitchell's team had staggered into the subway car. "It's like a human tortoise," Nick gawked.
"A turtle," Mitchell corrected, though his thoughts were focussed elsewhere. His eyes strayed onto the pile of leather-bound books that were on the desk. One of them lay open – the one the turtle creature was reaching towards. Trying not to be grossed out, Mitchell walked forward and very carefully removed the book from underneath the fragile skeletal remains.
"What should we say when we call this in?" one of the men asked.
"Give me a sec," Mitchell muttered, suddenly fascinated by what he held in his hands. "Don't call this in just yet".
"It's a journal!" Nick saw what was in Mitchell's hands.
"Journal of what?"
Mitchell looked up the see the four eager faces of his workers. They were all in this together now. Each one wanted to unravel the mystery of the shelled, sewer-dwelling beast. Itching to solve it right away, Mitchell looked down at the page where the journal had been left open. The last paragraph of the last entry. Mitchell read it out loud:
"I am the last of my kind. No one to talk to. No one to touch and to hold. And no one to bury me. All I have left now are the memories of my ancestors, but sadly they will depart along with me. What I've written here can only ever be a shadow of their amazing lives, but at least it'll be something that won't live forever in the darkness. By writing this, I am now ready to face the light."
The workers listened intently. No one moved. Mitchell quickly glanced at their concentrated faces and flinched slightly at all the attention he was getting. He knew that they would gobble up any syllable that he uttered. Mitchell gulped. What he had just read didn't seem to answer any questions at all. It was clear that none of them were going to be leaving this place any time soon. "Maybe I should just start from the beginning."