A/N: Hey all. This is from the challenge, "A Year Without Leo" that I created on Stealthy Stories. I was curious as to why Leo hadn't returned to New York when he was supposed to and explored the possibilities. I wanted to make a story that took a unique approach to this challenge. You'll see what I mean in the upcoming chapters ^^.

Please, pretty please, read and review. I want to know what you guys think. Thank you~

["blah"]= spoken in a different language

"blah"= dialogue, someone talking out loud

'blah'= a thought

Ghost of NYC

Prologue

14 Months Ago

The Jungles of Central America…

Leonardo's shell slammed almost painfully against the base of a large, moss covered tree, forcing his exhausted body to hide itself from the on coming threat that was currently trying to track him down. Distant shouts uttered in rapid, fluid Spanish filled his ears, echoing amongst the once quiet, tranquil spaces of the surrounding forest. His heart was going into hyper drive with panic and fear; adrenaline coursed wildly through his veins as he waited painfully for his pursuers to pass him by and leave him be. He was not in the position, nor the condition, to fight them off now…

["Where is that demon? Where could he have gone? We had him!"] The voice of one of his assailants spoke out clearly amongst the chaotic, angry shouts that seemed to fill and invade the area. Although Leo still had a hard time understanding the language, he was able to roughly translate what was being said.

["The bastard couldn't have gone far,"] came a reply from another man, ["I got a hit on him. He shouldn't be to hard to find him now… and even if we don't find him, he's as good as dead."]

Leo winced at that; the sad part of that statement was that it was far to close to the truth. Through the dark and shaded ambiance of a forest cloaked by night, Leo's golden eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness as they traveled down the length of his own body, quickly locked onto the source of his fatigue and discomfort- a severely large bullet wound that had pierced through one of the lower plates of his plastron. He had gotten careless, walking right into a trap that he could've easily evaded had he been paying close attention to his surroundings.

And now… he was probably going to die because of his negligence.

Leonardo swallowed thickly, allowing his head to fall back against the soft blanket of moss that covered the bark of the tree he was currently resting against. One of his hands rose to weakly cover the gaping wound, apply light pressure to it as a last attempt to delay the inevitable. A small part of him was thankful that the voices of his attackers- soon to be murderers- had finally began to vanish as they moved further and further away from his location but he knew there was nothing to be thankful about as he grew closer and closer to death with each passing second.

He didn't like the idea of dying hundreds of miles away from his home in New York City. He didn't like the idea of dying by the hands of dishonorable men who used intimidation and fear to obtain power in a place where rules meant nothing and chaos reigned free. He didn't like the idea of dying at the ripe, young of age of seventeen. Hell… he didn't like the idea of dying without saying his goodbyes to his family. He could only imagine how his brothers and his father would feel, awaiting his return after a whole year of leadership training only to be confused, worried, and angry when he never came home. How would they feel when his weekly letters suddenly stopped coming? Would they come to look for him, despite the distance they'd have to travel in order to do so? Would they be able to find him if they did come? … Would there even be a body left to find?

An unprovoked shiver racked Leo's body suddenly- the chill of death was starting to settle upon his bones; he didn't have long now. Leo attempted to stand his feet, using one of his hands as leverage to aid with the task by leaning it against the tree. He stumbled clumsily forward, barely being able to catch himself as a splash of blood hit the forest floor at the sudden movement. He clung to the trunk to the best of his ability as his vision began to dark and fuzz. He panted, trying to gather as much oxygen as possible as he felt his grip on reality gradually fading away.

"D-damn," He cursed before unceremoniously collapsing back against the natural groove of the trunk, deeming it as his final resting place. It wasn't like he was going to be able to make a grave for himself or anything like that…

His golden orbs lifted tiredly to the night sky, gazing at it through a small opening that the canopy of leaves, branches, and vine above provided. The nebulous skies were dusted over with stars that far brighter than they could ever been in New York. He silently wished he could have told his family about them, as well as his adventure in Central America, as his vision finally faded to black...

A/N: Don't worry folks, he ain't dead XD

There is a bigger plot going on here. Hopefully, I can update chapter 1 soon. Let me know what you think.