A/N: I'm trying to get the gears turning for writing again. And what better way of doing that than with a new story? I've been plotting this story for a while now (couple of years, in fact). A lot of research has gone into this story, and I hope it will pay off. I also hope that you all enjoy the story.

Disclaimer: I own nothing associated with TMNT. I only own the OCs, wherever they may pop up.

Lightning lights up the small, dark apartment. I sit across the table from a man who's tied to a chair. Tape is wrapped around his mouth, keeping him quiet. My right index finger is balanced on the bottom tip of a knife; the bladed end digs into the smooth wood of the dining room table. For someone who is facing down his soon to be killer, this guy is extremely calm; but, I can see the fear in his eyes. They always get scared before I have my fun.

I look around the room. Pictures of a happy family decorate the walls. It makes me grin. No family is truly happy. They all have their secrets; their lies. I catch my reflection in one of the picture frames. Short, dirty blonde hair, green eyes. I wear a brown leather jacket over a black t-shirt. I also wear jeans and sneakers. Gloves cover my hands; don't want to leave any fingerprints. I look back at the man. Beads of sweat run down his face. I smirk. Yeah, he's scared.

I place the knife flat against the table and pick up a cell phone that lies in front of me. I open it and flick through the numbers. There's a number there that isn't in his regular contacts. I look up at the man and grin darkly. There's only one reason for having an unlisted number on a cell phone.

"Someone's got a dirty little secret," I say in a sing-song tone, waving the cell phone. "Shall I call her?"

The man's body tenses and I know I've struck a nerve. My thumb hovers over the dial button. However, at the last second, I snap the phone shut and toss it back on the table.

"We're not to the fun part, yet," I say as I get up from my chair. I pick the knife back up and walk around to where the man is sitting. "Ya know, with everything you have; a wife, kids. You'd think you would be happy." I place the blade of the knife on the man's shoulder, the sharp edge facing his neck. "Why would you cheat? Is it for the thrill of it? Does the thought that someday your wife is going to find out about your darling little mistress and call you on your infidelity excite you?" I tsk as though I'm talking to a naughty child. "I had a father once," I continue. "If you could call him that. Drunken bastard. He made everything seem like it was okay. But, I knew better. The beatings helped in clearing things up. I always wished for the perfect family. But, it's guys like you who remind me that there's no such thing as a perfect family."

I lean in close as I press the blade to the man's neck. I can feel him shake. This is what feeds me: Fear. It's my drug of choice. In the living room, the main phone starts to ring. Must be the wife. I look up at the calendar. Today's date is circled. I've kept this poor man from some special engagement. Oh, well. Let the phone ring. I'll be doing this family a favour.

I grin as the man trembles underneath the bite of the blade. "Time to have some fun," I say in dark glee.

I flick through the pictures that I had taken on my phone. Not my best work, but I did the job. From the safety of an alley, I look up and watch the scene unfold in front of me. Cop cars block off the street. The crime scene unit just arrived. I turn back to the phone. I open up a new text message, punch in a number and send off the pictures with a dark, satisfied grin.

"Is it him?" I hear one of the CSU men ask.

"Looks like it," a cop answers.

"Are we ever going to catch this guy?" another CSU man asks.

I smirk. "Nope," I whisper.

I turn the phone off, stick it in my pocket and fade into the shadows of the alley. I know that my message had gotten through to the intended target. Let Gates make heads or tails out of this one. I can't help but laugh. It's so much fun playing with the detective. He thinks he's so close to catching me. I grin to myself as I make my way through the back alleys. With every kill I put myself a step ahead; not just in front of Gates, but everyone. No one can touch me. I'm invincible. Unstoppable.

I am Sky.

Reviews are welcome, flames are not