His name was Leonardo, and he and his brothers had made a wrong turn somewhere.
Now they were trapped, backs to the wall in a trash-strewn alley. Barring their way were fifteen members of the Purple Dragons, the toughest street gang on the East Side. The only way that the Purple Dragons would allow them to ever leave that alley was after they were dead.
The ninja held his katana in a relaxed, ready position. To his left, Donatello and Michelangelo followed suit with bo staff and nunchakus. With his sais, Raphael guarded his right side.
Leonardo could sense his body quivering with tense energy, waiting to be triggered into savage, slashing release.
"You're dead, freaks! Nobody trespasses on Purple Dragon turf and gets away with it, especially when they're wearing stupid turtle costumes!"
He was wrong. They were not wearing costumes.
"Hey!"
"Here they come! Blast 'em!"
They were young, but they were no rookies. They had been around, toughened by the streets. They'd fought and beat everything on two legs in this area except them.
The ninjas hit them airborne. Leonardo took out two on the way down while Donatello nailed a third with his bo. The punks didn't waste much time with hand to hand. They broke into small groups and opened up with their artillery, handguns roaring to life.
Raphael loved that stuff. His sais flashed as he leapt, and the three punks don't even see it. They were disarmed in seconds.
"W-who are these guys?!"
"Don't know. Some kinda freaks! But even freaks can bleed, cut 'em!"
Leonardo's katana flashed. "Yes. We can bleed…..and so can you."
Their first major skirmish was over, and the turtle ninjas were still standing. Their training had served them well. Master Splinter would be pleased.
A police siren wailed close by, coming fast. When they arrived they would find only what was left of the Purple Dragon gang.
They didn't like to run from those who could have been their allies, but the police would not understand them. The storm drains beckoned. The turtles are never far from a means of escape or concealment, for they are trained in the art of ninjitsu.
They strike hard, and fade away into the night.
The storm drains and sewers were their home. They knew every inch of these subterranean passages. For all of their years, they have dwelled in these dark depths, learning, growing, building.
The old, wise robed rat that they returned to raised his furred head as the foursome entered and bowed. "Ah, my sons. You return at last. You have fought?"
"And won, Master Splinter, against fifteen foes!" Michelangelo's excitement came through in his boast.
"You have done well. Your ninja skills are near their peak. I have forseen this night for many years. Now it is time…time for you to be told of the mission for which I have trained you these past thirteen years. To help you understand the purpose of this mission, I must speak of my life and how you came to be."
Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think of the 'love project' in the comments if you'd like. Hopefully see you guys in the next part.