New York City.

For some reason everything seem to have a break out in every corner; getto cops. Crazy homeless people. Wanted criminals. There was asylum for everything here. No one asked questions. No one bothered anyone. Was it because of the general nature of New Yorkers never to care about anything beyond their own noses? Was it just human nature to not care about what doesn't directly affect them?

Normally that would be the case. But the real reason why mutants were allowed to walk freely on The Lower East Side after dark?

Because The Purple Dragons told everyone else to shut up. If you were caught taking a picture of a mutant, telling the cops about the mutant, disturbing a mutant…you disappeared. The Purple Dragons had increased in power and ruthelessness ever since The Foot absorbed them. They went from a common street gang to an organized crime syndicate seemingly overnight. Most of that could be attributed to the new ownership.

And most of it could be attributed to the fact that no one wanted to get on Dogpound's bad side.

Dogpound walked freely down the sidewalk, The Lower East Side residents scrambling to make way for him as he shoved others out of the way that were too slow. While Dogpound was a name they had grown to fear…it was also a sight they weren't familiar with. If he was here on street level…then something must be wrong.

He was looking for someone.

And there, in an alley curled up in a ball he found his target.

Mikey one of the wild turtles in the group.

Dogpound stood at the end of the alley and set his sight on Mikeys' sleeping away in trash. " Thinking in his head how fuckin cute he look" Behind him the once busy street became barren and empty.

Something was going to happen.

Something bad.

"TURTLE!" Dogpound barked, his voice echoing down the alley. "We need to talk. Now."

Mikey had found that sleeping curled up like this did wonders. No one in their right mind would try to wake up what was essentially a giant ball of sharp pointy quills, not here and quite possibly, not anywhere. His was a quiet dream, one he wouldn't remember upon waking as usual. He rocked back and forth a bit in his sleep, snoring quietly, completely oblivious to what was about to happen.

Something loud jolted him from his slumber, and he uncurled with a shriek, looking around in a panic. When his eyes, still a bit bleary from sleep, adjusted to the darkness, the sight that awaited him frightened the porcupine mutant more than anything. He tried to compose himself, but his stance and the fact that his quills still stood upright betrayed his fear.

"A-ah! Um, hello, good mor— I mean night, what do we need to talk about?" He stuttered.

Dogpound's expression didn't change. His nose took in a gust of air…despite the putrid smells of this alley he was able to pick up the scent.

Vermin.

"It's decision time, Turtle. I made you a fairly generous offer a few days ago…and I want an answer." Dogpound already knew what his answer would be…he could literally smell it on him…but he wanted to hear him say it.

"Or you with The Foot?"

His beady eyes widened. He knew this day was coming, and boy, he did not look forward to it. He should have followed Donnie's advice, oh, he should have. It was probably too late now, though. He stood, trembling, trying to figure a way out that didn't involve going anywhere near Dogpound. If there was a lamppost in sight, Mikey would have climbed it by now.

"I… Well, I thought about it a bit, and I… uhm…" He was scared to say no. And for good reason.

Dogpound's face turned to a scowl, "I gave you advice. I gave you money. I gave you asylum…and this is how you repay me?" Dogpound snarled, "You consort and collaborate with THE VERMIN!"

Dogpound looked to his side, with one punch he stuck his fist into the side of a dumpster and hefted it above his head, he send it flying down the alley towards Mikey. "You chose WRONG, Creature Turtle!"..

Mikey squeaked, ducking out of the way literally seconds before the dumpster landed where he'd been standing previously. His quills hadn't budged one inch, and he realized it was now that he'd have to utilize them, if Dogpound got close enough. He'd seen enough normal porcupines in action to know how a dog would react to a couple quills in its nose, but he wasn't sure if it would work on a massive mutant dog. He looked behind him, hoping for a way out, but all there was was wall.

Damnit.

Dogpound lunged down the alley, in mid air he actually caught the fire escape above his head with his oversized arm. Mikey could hear the steel groan underneath Dogpound's weight…it was also a small miracle how someone so big could move…like that. This is what Foot Clan training could do…

"If you aren't with The Foot…"

He then flung himself towars Mikey, now looking to make a Dogpound sized crater in the ground where Mikey was standing.

"Then you will be CRUSHED BY IT!"

Mikey couldn't remember being so terrified in his life. So much, in fact, that he was literally frozen to the spot, just barely remembering his defense mechanism before Dogpound landed. He curled himself into a ball, trying not to hyperventilate, and hoping that even if he did get crushed, he wouldn't go out without doing at least some damage. Long, thick quills did wonders for other porcupines, so why couldn't it do something for Mikey?

Dogpound saw Mikey curl up…but it was too late, he brought his fist down onto him with enough force to set off a car alarm.

"RAAAAGH!" Despite any damage he may have done to Mikey, Dogpound now had a hand full of pocrupine spins. Blood began to pool around them before Dogpound gave Mikey a hard punch with his other hand…which was incased in bone. As Mikey rolled towards a wall Dogpound inspected his hand…the quills are in deep…but Dogpound simply began to yank them out one by one, a stream of blood accompnying each quill as he dropped them at his feet.

"And…just…think…I could…have…trained you…how to….actually…fight…with these…" Dogpound grunted with each tug before they are out. His hand looked like somthing that resembled hamburger meat…or bloody swiss cheese.

But that wasn't the problem.

The problem was that despite how gruesome it looked…Dogpound was still on the attack.

Mikey groaned as he hit the wall, certain by the pain in his side that something had definitely broken. He wasn't going to fight. He didn't want to fight. His heart pounded in his ears, and the porcupine boy remained still. Only the slow rising and falling of the quills lining his back showed that he still lived.

He saw now, how right Donatello was. If Mikey survived this, and he told himself he would try, he wouldn't be coming back up to the city for a long while.

Dogpound lurched over to Mikey, he rolled him onto his back with his foot before grabbing him by his neck and lift him up off the ground. "You…waste of kill. Waste of talent." Dogpound took another deep whiff of the air. "So what did your vermin brothers tell you about me? What did the TURTLES say? Did they say not to trust me? Not to trust the foot." Dogpound was gripping Mikey with his bone-incased hand. With one heave he slammed Mikey against the wall and barked in his face.

"At this point the only way you can make it out of here with your life is if you give me the answer to one question…" Dogpound's grip on Mikey's throat grew tighter.

"Where are the turtles hiding?"

Mikey squirmed, squeaking as loud as he could with a giant hand around his throat. He wasn't going to tell him. He couldn't. And to add to the matter, Mikey was a terrible liar. But, there's no shame in trying,he thought. Grasping Dogpound's bone hand with his claws in an attempt to get air, he locked eyes with the mutant and spoke, shakily.

"The-they said no-ot to trust a… lot of mutants," he said. His voice was strained, high-pitched in fear. It was pretty much pathetic. "They're in Tr-Tribeca. Bit aways from here… North. Tribeca North." Tears welled up in the Turtle's eyes, a combination of pain, stress, and horror.

Dogpound looked into Mikey's eyes as he spoke, he could sense the shakiness in his voice and the fear in his words. He never broke eye contact…

He was lying, terribly…but Dogpound didn't want him to know that. "Tribeca…they might've been there…" Dogpound squeezed Mikey's neck a bit tighter. "You've given yourself a stay of execution, creature."

Dogpound knew the Turtles weren't in Tribeca…but he figured if Mikey was going to go through such great legnths to lie about them…that meant that he cared for them and that they cared for him. Which means they would seek revenge.

Dogpound smashed his fist into the side of Mikey' face, giving him one last solid sock to the jaw before throwing him across the alley towards the opposite wall. " You've disappointed me, Creature." Dogpound spoke, "But…you've given me the information I want."

Dogpound turned his back got closer to him chest to chest kissed Mikey on the lips. "You may go Turtle this won't be the last time you've seen me".