Disclaimer: I don't own TMNT, so you can't sue me. I'm just borrowing them
for a bit. But Magnolia and the others are mine, so if you want to use
them, please just ask. Thank you.
A/N: I started this fic a year ago and managed to get a few chapters out before I lost interest for awhile. But now, I've decided to give it a major rewrite so that it's actually something worth reading. This means a major project for me and it might mean that it will take me longer to post my other stuff. But please bear with me, as I'm trying to juggle both my fics and my personal life at the moment.
Journey's End?
By Streetwyse
Prologue: Unforgiven
Magnolia. My name is Magnolia. It was the name that was given to me by my adopted father, a being who now seems only a distant memory but remains a constant source of comfort in this dismal hell that I've brought myself too. It's been more than two years since I last saw him or the others, but I think of them often. Not only to keep their memory alive in my heart, but to keep myself sane.
It probably sounds strange to others when I say that, but it's true. Where I've been, sanity is a precious thing and very few have it anymore. I sometimes count myself among those lucky few, since I can see the truth behind all the lies we're told and know that the only one I can trust here is myself.
At other times though, I feel as if I've been cursed. While I can see behind the veil of lies Krang and his government spread and can defend myself against them, I still have to see horrors that should have driven me mad years ago. I see the weak and starving being fed upon by the strong, even those in their right mind. I've seen these same poor infidels beaten until they were within an inch of their lives and then, while still alive and breathing, fed to the 'watchdogs' that keep us all under control when the overseers are away.
These are enough that I should have been driven mad when I was first brought to this world. Yet, they haven't. For reasons I've never been sure of, regardless of what I see and experience, my mind remains whole in a place where so many others have lost theirs.
Not that that does me much good now. My mind is as clear as it ever was, albeit filled with intense pain at the moment, but my body is shattered. I've spent the last couple of days being beaten by some of the overseers. They said it was for helping the others escape, but I know better. They've been wanting a piece of me ever since I got here and now they just have an excuse to ruin an able slave without fear of reprisal from their commander.
Slave. Ha, that's something I never thought I would call myself. Despite the fact that I've been one for more than a year now. The capture was my own fault of course, since I had broken the first rule of survival here and stopped out in the open to rest. They caught me then, and brought me here, to the Dimension X version of Earth's Alkatraz.
And when I say the version, I mean that lightly. Beyond being a prison, there's no real comparison between here and the one on Earth. At least on Earth you have a chance of going free at some point if your crime's not too serious and they don't work you till you're almost dead. Here in Dimension X, unless you swear complete loyalty to the supreme Warlord, Krang, and are willing to give your life for his so-called glorious empire, once you're in a penal colony like Rancor and its brethren, it's for life and you spend every waking hour working. The only way sure to get out of here is death and here that's never clean.
Which is what is happening to me now; I'm dying. After I was brought to them, the overseers spent a few days beating me, trying to get me to confess my crime or tell where the others had gone. They got neither. It's true that I had helped Unai and three others escape, but I wasn't about to say that, no matter how much satisfaction it would have given me. To let these bastards know that it was possible for someone to escape their little prison. Nor did I know where they had gone and even if I had, I would never have told. If there's one thing that I'm proud of, it's that I can keep a secret. It was a skill that served me well as a child and one that I've kept alive since.
Hmm, secrets. That was something I often shared with my brothers when we were young. It was really one of the few things that we had in abundance to share in those days, considering what we were and where we lived.
You see, I never really came from what most folks would consider a normal family. Oh, I had a father of course. A good one in most respects, even if he could be a bit strict at times. And I had four brothers as well, all of them older. They each had their faults and their graces, both of which I loved and disliked about them, as any younger sister would.
I had no mother though, not one that I could remember, and neither did my brothers. We were orphans almost from birth until we were found and taken in by our father, who as I mentioned before was my both my adopted father and my brothers'. He raised us alone in the darkness of the sewers.
That's right, the sewers. Our home was in the gutter, literally. It was a dank and gloomy place that probably doesn't seem like the right setting for anyone to raise a family. Well, before our choice of real estate is judged too harshly, there was a good reason why my father chose it.
As I said, my family was never normal by most standards. It was a parent and his children, true enough. That was basic enough for anyone to understand and what made us so like the human families that lived above our heads. But you see, that's where the similarities between our family and others ended. For you see, none of us were human. We were mutants, beings created through an accidental exposure to a substance that became known to us as ooze.
My father and brothers had been exposed to it several years before I was even born. Before that, they had all been pets to a Japanese man named Yoshi and an American boy that was never named and were then lost in the sewers. It was there, in the same place that would become home, haven and prison to us all, that they came in contact with the same stuff that would effect our lives forever.
The ooze caused them to change and grow. They became smarter, stronger, and more human-like than they should have been under normal circumstances. Though the occurrence of the change itself was never normal, but still.
Once the change had taken its course, they were more aware of their world than they had been in their original forms. The most aware being my father, who was the eldest of the new clan of mutants. He was the one that decided what had to be done for what was to become his new family and that led him to keep them all hidden in the sewers so they could at least live their lives in freedom.
And that was how things went for the next three years, with my father taking care of his family and the ones who had become his children growing and learning about the world. It was also about this time that I showed up on the scene. That happened in the sewers too, but not like before. When I was found, no one was sure what I was. They said that I was a mutant like they were, but no one was exactly sure what I had been before or how I how into contact with more ooze, since there was none there with me.
It didn't really matter I suppose. I ended up thinking I was a mutant anyhow, since that's what the rest of my family was. I was just like they were, or so I thought. It wasn't until I ran away and ended up in this nightmare that I learned what I was and sometimes I would rather think that I was mutant than be what I.Ah, that one hurt.
Well, the pain's kicking in again. Guess that slow-minded moron Vynde and his slobs know how to do something right after all. You wouldn't think that a bunch of pinheads like them could keep someone hurting as long as they've kept me.
Come to think of it, I haven't seen any of them for awhile now. They usually don't keep me waiting this long. They're usually here by now, ready to tear into me again.
Hmm. Maybe they decided that I'm not worth it anymore. I never cry out when they hit me, no matter how hard, or, when they.No, I won't say that or even think of it. That's something that will stayed buried until I can deal with it. For now, I'll just say that another skill I picked up as a kid has kicked in. I've always been able to keep silent when I want and now is one of those times.
If that's the case, then I don't have to worry about them coming back for awhile. They'll probably just leave me here until I'm totally unconscious to come back. Then they'll either dump me or turn me into feed. Neither is a pleasant thought, but at this point, I really don't care. All I want is to sleep and be done with all this. And it looks like I'll be getting my wish sooner than I thought.
It's getting harder for me to think clearly now. The pain hasn't really grown, but it feels like it's getting worse and I can't keep my thoughts straight anymore. Oh, well, I guess that's for the best. I've been dwelling on the past long enough. I have my regrets and my joys, like anyone does. They will stay with me always, even when I'm dead, and if I have to deal with them in whatever comes after this life, then so be it. I'm prepared for that.
But if I could have a chance to do anything in the world before I die, it would be to say something to my father and brothers. Something that I should have said to them a long time ago but was too stupid to realize it. If I could, I would tell them that I'm sorry. Sorry for all the grief and trouble that I caused them, even when I'm not there.
But I suppose like my living much longer, that's a dream that will never come to be. I've been here long enough and I've searched every possible lead that could get me home and each one was a bust. So I'll just have to settle with saying it in my heart and hope that maybe someday, the ones I called my family and friends will realize that. Though, somehow, part of me still doubts that they.even.care.
A/N: End prologue. I guess this doesn't really make sense to everyone right now, but believe me, give it a few more chapters and it will. But thanks for reading and if anyone has the time, please review. Feedback will definitely help me in later chapters. Thanks.
A/N: I started this fic a year ago and managed to get a few chapters out before I lost interest for awhile. But now, I've decided to give it a major rewrite so that it's actually something worth reading. This means a major project for me and it might mean that it will take me longer to post my other stuff. But please bear with me, as I'm trying to juggle both my fics and my personal life at the moment.
Journey's End?
By Streetwyse
Prologue: Unforgiven
Magnolia. My name is Magnolia. It was the name that was given to me by my adopted father, a being who now seems only a distant memory but remains a constant source of comfort in this dismal hell that I've brought myself too. It's been more than two years since I last saw him or the others, but I think of them often. Not only to keep their memory alive in my heart, but to keep myself sane.
It probably sounds strange to others when I say that, but it's true. Where I've been, sanity is a precious thing and very few have it anymore. I sometimes count myself among those lucky few, since I can see the truth behind all the lies we're told and know that the only one I can trust here is myself.
At other times though, I feel as if I've been cursed. While I can see behind the veil of lies Krang and his government spread and can defend myself against them, I still have to see horrors that should have driven me mad years ago. I see the weak and starving being fed upon by the strong, even those in their right mind. I've seen these same poor infidels beaten until they were within an inch of their lives and then, while still alive and breathing, fed to the 'watchdogs' that keep us all under control when the overseers are away.
These are enough that I should have been driven mad when I was first brought to this world. Yet, they haven't. For reasons I've never been sure of, regardless of what I see and experience, my mind remains whole in a place where so many others have lost theirs.
Not that that does me much good now. My mind is as clear as it ever was, albeit filled with intense pain at the moment, but my body is shattered. I've spent the last couple of days being beaten by some of the overseers. They said it was for helping the others escape, but I know better. They've been wanting a piece of me ever since I got here and now they just have an excuse to ruin an able slave without fear of reprisal from their commander.
Slave. Ha, that's something I never thought I would call myself. Despite the fact that I've been one for more than a year now. The capture was my own fault of course, since I had broken the first rule of survival here and stopped out in the open to rest. They caught me then, and brought me here, to the Dimension X version of Earth's Alkatraz.
And when I say the version, I mean that lightly. Beyond being a prison, there's no real comparison between here and the one on Earth. At least on Earth you have a chance of going free at some point if your crime's not too serious and they don't work you till you're almost dead. Here in Dimension X, unless you swear complete loyalty to the supreme Warlord, Krang, and are willing to give your life for his so-called glorious empire, once you're in a penal colony like Rancor and its brethren, it's for life and you spend every waking hour working. The only way sure to get out of here is death and here that's never clean.
Which is what is happening to me now; I'm dying. After I was brought to them, the overseers spent a few days beating me, trying to get me to confess my crime or tell where the others had gone. They got neither. It's true that I had helped Unai and three others escape, but I wasn't about to say that, no matter how much satisfaction it would have given me. To let these bastards know that it was possible for someone to escape their little prison. Nor did I know where they had gone and even if I had, I would never have told. If there's one thing that I'm proud of, it's that I can keep a secret. It was a skill that served me well as a child and one that I've kept alive since.
Hmm, secrets. That was something I often shared with my brothers when we were young. It was really one of the few things that we had in abundance to share in those days, considering what we were and where we lived.
You see, I never really came from what most folks would consider a normal family. Oh, I had a father of course. A good one in most respects, even if he could be a bit strict at times. And I had four brothers as well, all of them older. They each had their faults and their graces, both of which I loved and disliked about them, as any younger sister would.
I had no mother though, not one that I could remember, and neither did my brothers. We were orphans almost from birth until we were found and taken in by our father, who as I mentioned before was my both my adopted father and my brothers'. He raised us alone in the darkness of the sewers.
That's right, the sewers. Our home was in the gutter, literally. It was a dank and gloomy place that probably doesn't seem like the right setting for anyone to raise a family. Well, before our choice of real estate is judged too harshly, there was a good reason why my father chose it.
As I said, my family was never normal by most standards. It was a parent and his children, true enough. That was basic enough for anyone to understand and what made us so like the human families that lived above our heads. But you see, that's where the similarities between our family and others ended. For you see, none of us were human. We were mutants, beings created through an accidental exposure to a substance that became known to us as ooze.
My father and brothers had been exposed to it several years before I was even born. Before that, they had all been pets to a Japanese man named Yoshi and an American boy that was never named and were then lost in the sewers. It was there, in the same place that would become home, haven and prison to us all, that they came in contact with the same stuff that would effect our lives forever.
The ooze caused them to change and grow. They became smarter, stronger, and more human-like than they should have been under normal circumstances. Though the occurrence of the change itself was never normal, but still.
Once the change had taken its course, they were more aware of their world than they had been in their original forms. The most aware being my father, who was the eldest of the new clan of mutants. He was the one that decided what had to be done for what was to become his new family and that led him to keep them all hidden in the sewers so they could at least live their lives in freedom.
And that was how things went for the next three years, with my father taking care of his family and the ones who had become his children growing and learning about the world. It was also about this time that I showed up on the scene. That happened in the sewers too, but not like before. When I was found, no one was sure what I was. They said that I was a mutant like they were, but no one was exactly sure what I had been before or how I how into contact with more ooze, since there was none there with me.
It didn't really matter I suppose. I ended up thinking I was a mutant anyhow, since that's what the rest of my family was. I was just like they were, or so I thought. It wasn't until I ran away and ended up in this nightmare that I learned what I was and sometimes I would rather think that I was mutant than be what I.Ah, that one hurt.
Well, the pain's kicking in again. Guess that slow-minded moron Vynde and his slobs know how to do something right after all. You wouldn't think that a bunch of pinheads like them could keep someone hurting as long as they've kept me.
Come to think of it, I haven't seen any of them for awhile now. They usually don't keep me waiting this long. They're usually here by now, ready to tear into me again.
Hmm. Maybe they decided that I'm not worth it anymore. I never cry out when they hit me, no matter how hard, or, when they.No, I won't say that or even think of it. That's something that will stayed buried until I can deal with it. For now, I'll just say that another skill I picked up as a kid has kicked in. I've always been able to keep silent when I want and now is one of those times.
If that's the case, then I don't have to worry about them coming back for awhile. They'll probably just leave me here until I'm totally unconscious to come back. Then they'll either dump me or turn me into feed. Neither is a pleasant thought, but at this point, I really don't care. All I want is to sleep and be done with all this. And it looks like I'll be getting my wish sooner than I thought.
It's getting harder for me to think clearly now. The pain hasn't really grown, but it feels like it's getting worse and I can't keep my thoughts straight anymore. Oh, well, I guess that's for the best. I've been dwelling on the past long enough. I have my regrets and my joys, like anyone does. They will stay with me always, even when I'm dead, and if I have to deal with them in whatever comes after this life, then so be it. I'm prepared for that.
But if I could have a chance to do anything in the world before I die, it would be to say something to my father and brothers. Something that I should have said to them a long time ago but was too stupid to realize it. If I could, I would tell them that I'm sorry. Sorry for all the grief and trouble that I caused them, even when I'm not there.
But I suppose like my living much longer, that's a dream that will never come to be. I've been here long enough and I've searched every possible lead that could get me home and each one was a bust. So I'll just have to settle with saying it in my heart and hope that maybe someday, the ones I called my family and friends will realize that. Though, somehow, part of me still doubts that they.even.care.
A/N: End prologue. I guess this doesn't really make sense to everyone right now, but believe me, give it a few more chapters and it will. But thanks for reading and if anyone has the time, please review. Feedback will definitely help me in later chapters. Thanks.