Disclaimer: I do not own the turtles & company. All characters appearing in this fan-fiction belong to Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird. If I did own them, I might have to build myself a safe-house - some cottage in the woods maybe - to escape the anger of a certain rat and maybe even his four sons...
A/N: A new fic I had to write after having a reading spree here. First scene, you might realize, is told as if from Splinter. Second part will be writen with more detail as the story progesses. Note that this fic will go from past to present (past always italicized). Oh, and it will be third-person after this. ...I may post the first actual chapter today as well...
On one side, we have the very serious leader: a diligent student, always working towards his own idyllic perfection. On the other side, there's the laid-back joker: naturally agile, he prefers to play rather than train along with the others and is content with his status. These polar opposites – so different in the way they live their life – seemed unable to eye-to-eye on a good day. It's strange how fate can twist the boundaries in how we view the world in a blink of an eye. Even stranger is how these two conflicting souls can share the same home, the same dangers, and even the same responses to pain and torture. Maybe the most bizarre thing would have to be that they share the most basic of feelings, for are we not all the same inside? The basic principals of life tell us this is true. How we act and how we look does not define us, rather it shapes who we are and how we must live. That is a lesson most forget. That is why the peace we all crave is far coming. Maybe the day will come when people begin to look past our outward appearances and discover the person inside before deciding who we are. When that day comes, life will truly be easier; simpler. Until then, we must rely on fate's will to give us a chance to see in a different perspective. Whether we can survive the encounter, relies solely on her victims. When fate encountered two of my sons one night, the leader and the comedian sure felt very much alike, though they may not have realized it. This story tells the tale of whether they survived torture's cruel hand that fateful night. The lesson to learn is very simple: we are all the same – mutant or human – and in realizing this, we can help lift each other up even from the depths of despair.
"No…"
"Run Mikey!"
Blood. There's blood. Too much blood.
"No…"
"Kill him already!"
"Listen to me! Run! Now!"
This much blood…means death. No. Not dead. Not yet.
"No."
"Move it! He can't fight much longer! Kill him!"
Am I dead? Why can't I move? Blood. So much of it… Why is there so much blood?
"Michelangelo!"
"No."
Is that me? What's wrong with me? What's wrong with my voice? Why can't I talk right? …Am I bleeding?
"That's it! Move out of my way! I'll do it!"
"Move it now!"
What…what's going on? What happened to the blood? Why am I so dizzy?
"Argh! Mikey…!"
"No!"
"Go after the other one, you idiots! What's wrong with you?"
Oh, there's the blood… Wait…why is there more of it now? Why-?
"You're finished."
"No, Leo!"
"Get…out…"
"No!"
No, no, no, no, no, no, no! I…I can't… I won't….
"Don't kill him!"
A/N: Please review.
