Humanity is Just a Word by The Creepy-Psycho-Loner
Disclaimer: All characters, places, etc are not owned by me. I simply do the plot.
AN: Please note that the stories are not set in chronological order and are mostly stand alone stories. Some may be 1,000 or more words but most are shorter, like this. Thank you for reading!
When I first saw him, I thought to myself what's a kid like him doing out here all by himself. I was perched on the ledge of a fire escape silently, amid the darkness. I watched as he backed up against the wall of the alley, the hand protecting his wallet was behind his back.
"Look kid, I ain' tryin ta hurt cha'," growled a thug, with a nice shining gun peaking out of his brown jacket pocket. I knew from how loosely his red mangled shirt fit him that he was skinny- starving. His green eyes glazed over with lackluster. "Just gim'e tha wallet and ye won't get hurt."
I could see the kid tense up, not wanting to give in yet also not wanting to get hurt. Surprisingly, I saw in his blue eyes a look of empathy. "I really can't do that. I need the money or else I'm homeless," he squeaked, without any confidence in the world. "I know you don't care, but I have no one, so I have to pay rent at my friend's house."
The thug actually hesitated. He was so torn- I could tell he never really stuck people up. "Don' make dis hard on me," he whispered. I knew he meant the words to be threatening, but they came out sad and jaded. When he took hesitant steps forward, I decided to try and scare him away. I threw a throwing star into the barrel of the man's gun. He stared at it for a second before throwing it off to the side, in shock and fear. He looked up slowly and I could tell he could see the white slits of my eyes. His eyes narrowed, dangerously. "Show yerself." So much for scaring him off.
I saw the kid follow his gaze but he couldn't find what the thug was looking at. The thug ran over to him and pinned him against the wall. A switchblade came from his other pocket as he placed it against the kid's neck. "Show yerself," he repeated. For added drama, he drew a bit of blood.
Having no other choice, I jumped down into the alley. I felt hot and exposed as I looked him in his shocked face. "Okay I'm here. Now leave the boy alone."
I was almost surprised when he did. He shoved the kid to the ground with enough force to make the kid's head spin. He ran towards me and swung the blade in my direction. Dodging breezily, I gave the thug an uppercut that sent him reeling. He ran to me and his fist came down with force but I blocked it with a hand, using my other hand to punch him in the ribs. He grunted in pain and was sent to the ground, clutching his injured chest. I hit him in the head and knocked him out cold.
Turning around, I saw the boy staring at me with hesitation. I got ready to jump back to my sanctuary of the rooftops but he ran up to me and grabbed my arm. "Wait don't go. Please."
I gulped, and before I could think, I said yes. We slid into the darker corner of the alley as the kid dialed on his cell to call for a lift. When he finished, he looked at me. But not in fear. His head tilted to the side as he studied my features. I noticed the freckles on his face. "What's your name, turtle?" he asked, staring into my eyes with a childish curiosity. I almost stuttered.
"Donatello."
"Mikey!" I heard someone call. Before Mikey had time to say anything to me, I was already on the next rooftop.