December 31, 1999- 6:00 PM
"But I don't wanna stay with Jennifer," Val pouted and threw herself dramatically on her parents bed, watching as her mom put her long, black hair up. Her mom's purple evening gown accentuated her pregnant belly. "Brice gets to go," Val pleaded.
Her mom chuckled, it was a soft, lyrical laugh, "Honey, he comes with me everywhere now," she rubbed her belly as the baby kicked, "but in three months, he'll be staying home with you and Jennifer when Daddy and I go out."
Val scowled, blowing her long bangs out of her eyes. It wasn't fair, she thought, New Year's Eve parties ought to be for kids too. She was in kindergarten after all; it wasn't like she was a baby.
Her dad came around the side of the bed, buttoning the jacket of his uniform. He grinned down at his little girl then dove down and scooped her up, flipping her onto his shoulder and tickling her, "Is there a grump in the house?"
"Ahhh!" Val screamed, laughing, "Stop it, Daddy!"
"I don't know," he teased, still tickling, "I think there may still be some grumps in there…"
"No, there aren't," Val gasped between peals of laughter.
Her dad plopped her onto the bed, beaming down at her now smiling face. "That's better; can't have the grumps taking over my princess."
"I'm not a princess," Val said, hopping up so that she was almost as tall as him and going into a pretend fighting stance, "I'm a warrior!"
Her dad laughed, messing her dark hair with one hand, "My warrior princess."
"Do I really gotta stay here alone?" she asked, giving him her best puppy dog eyes.
"Not alone, with Jennifer," he corrected, pulling her into a hug, "and I tell you what. If you promise to be good for Jennifer, Mama and I promise to be back in time for midnight."
"Gerald," her mom gave an amused sigh.
"What? It's a business party. We go, we shake hands with the big wigs, we leave. We'll be back in time so I can kiss mini-Zena as the clocks toll. Oh, and her pretty mama too."
Her mom, chuckled as she put on her long rhinestone earrings. "You two are a piece of work, you know that?"
"You hear that?" her Daddy stage whispered. "It wasn't a no."
December 31st, 1999 7:00
"Have I told you," Gerald said, leaning into his wife's hair as they made their way to the front doors of T.C.R.I. , "you look gorgeous."
"A time or two, I think," she said with a smile, "but I can pretend I didn't hear before." She leaned her head against his shoulder.
As they made their way around the room, talking with his colleagues he couldn't help watching her. She still moved like the dancer she was when they met. If anything time and children had only made her more beautiful. If it weren't for her, he wouldn't have been able to stand these kinds of functions. It was the one downside he'd found to being a military consultant to these independent companies.
"Oh," he said, leading her towards a tall, thin man standing at the edge of the crowd, "I ought to introduce you to Dr. Brown. He's heading up the research department; a genius even if he's a little weird." He whispered the last bit with a wink. "Dr. Brown," he said a bit louder as they made their way to the man, whose bored expression didn't change as he turned to them.
"Sergeant Collins," the man nodded. "And you must be the one known as Mrs. Collins."
She restrained a laugh with a smile, "So pleased to meet you Dr. Brown. Gerald speaks so highly of your work."
"Yes, work," the doctor said flatly, "I should take you to see my work. Come with me, please." The last word hung heavy, like an afterthought. He turned and walked towards the back doors. Gerald shrugged an apology to his wife, offering her his arm as they followed the strange man.
The hallway was well lit, but eerily quiet as the noise of the party faded behind them.
"I believe you will find this," Dr. Brown said as he opened the door, "amusing."
The lab lights flicked on, revealing several caged filled with animals. A huge dog stood up and walked to the edge of the cage. Sgt. Collins put a couple fingers into the cage, scratching his nose.
"Animal research," Lydia tried to hide the disgust from her voice.
"And plant," Dr. Brown said, closing the door behind them as he gestured towards a rack of exotic orchids and ivies.
"So what exactly do you work on here?" Gerald asked diplomatically as he examined the other cages.
"Improvements to our great armed forces, of course," Dr. Brown said, opening a cabinet. He drew out a large canister of glowing fluid. It reminded Lydia of a bank deposit canister. Her husband was busy looking at the cages, but her eyes didn't leave the scientist as he drew out a hypodermic needle and filled it with the blue, glowing fluid.
She walked closer the Gerald, putting her hand on his arm, trying to gently guide him towards the door. Sensing her discomfort, he said, "Well, Dr. Brown, it looks like you're doing some fine work here, but we'd better be getting back to the party." Reaching out, his eyes grew large as he found the door was locked. Pulling on it harder, with no luck, he tried pushing in his access code, but found it didn't work either. "Okay, Doc, that's enough!" he said, his voice growing thick with aggression as he put himself between the doctor and his wife. "Let us out now."
"The one known as Sergeant Collins will not be leaving this place, for this place is the place that is known as the transformation room. The one known as Sergeant Collins will be transformed for greater service to Kraang." He lunged at Gerald with the hypodermic needle pointed at him.
"Get off!" Gerald shouted, throwing the man into the wall. The animals in the lab all began to pace their cages. The dog howled. A monkey jumped up and down, screaming. Even the snake watched transfixed, its head following the battle.
Gerald pinned the doctor against the wall with his left hand as his right hand pounding into his head over and over again. It felt like he was hitting metal, and there was no blood. He cursed under his breath between blows. Grabbing the doctor by his lapels he shook him hard, "Let us go now!"
"The one known as Sgt. Collins will not leave this place, for it is in this place that the one known as Sgt. Collins will be transformed into that which is more equipped for service to the Kraang."
"Like hell I will!" Gerald said, throwing the doctor to the floor, the needle fell out his hand, rolling a few inches out of his grasp. Gerald grabbed the doctor's ears, slamming his head into the concrete. The side of the doctor's face broke; blue flashing lights were visible through the crack. "What the..?" Gerald stopped for a moment, thrown be the horror of what laid in front of him.
"Gerald!" Lydia screamed as the robot doctor reached out and grasped for the needle and plunged it deep into Gerald's shoulder, the plunger emptying all of the ooze into his system. Gerald fell, convulsing as his body contorted.
She turned and banged on the door, "Let me out! Somebody, help us, help us!" She screamed, desperately. A rough hand grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. "The one known as Lydia Collins will not be leaving this place," the robot said flatly. Instinctively, she kicked him hard in the groin, and felt the bone in her ankle crack, but he didn't flinch. Not knowing what else to do, she pulled herself away from him and rushed to the other side of the room, but tripped, crashing into the side of the table. The canister of mutagen fell to the ground, shattering. She stumbled in pain, not looking where she was going and slipped, falling into the spilled ooze. There was blinding pain. She tried to pull herself up on the shelf on plants, but it crashed down on her.
The robot looked between the spasming man to his wife, who appeared to have been knocked unconscious. Sgt. Collins body grew fur. His nose elongated into a snout. The Kraang robot turned to enter his access code when Gerald leapt on him. The adrenaline only served to make the newly formed mutant stronger. He plowed the robot doctor's head into the door, crushing the mechanical skull into a heap of sparking metal. The robot dropped limp, and a pink brain crawled out of its chest. It took one look at the massive mutant and gave a terrified squeal, rushing to the other side of the room. "Not today," Gerald growled, jumping on it and sinking his fangs deep into the acidic flesh, tearing out a huge chunk of it and spitting it to the ground. He threw the dead Kraang to the floor and looked around for his wife. He saw what looked like a hand protruding from under a bookshelf, but it wasn't his Lydia's hand. It was brown, with green veins that curled like veins over the flesh. He looked down at his own fur covered, clawed hands, cursing. He rushed to the shelf and lifted it. The woman under it was wearing Lydia's dress. Her black hair was now green veins, with leaves and flowers in it. Her features were much the same, but not. His eyes stung as he cradled her in his arms, thinking he'd lost both her and his unborn son, but her eyes fluttered opened.
She screamed, jumping back with inhuman speed. Her ankle that had been broken had completely healed, although that fact was not the most pressing on her mind. "Get away from me!" she shrieked, holding out her hands in front of her. Her neon green eyes opened wide as shock as she saw her hands. "What?!" she gasped, falling to the floor staring up at her husband.
"Lydia, it's me," he said in a voice that no longer sounded like his own. It was a deep rumble, like a low growl. He tried to make it softer, "It's Gerald, baby. I swear."
His mind reeled in a million directions. He wanted to charge into the party; to demand answers, to seek revenge, to seek a cure. However, he knew, somewhere deep inside him that this alien doctor wasn't the only one in on this conspiracy. His stomach gave a sickening lurch. He had to get them out of there, out of New York City. Bending down, he offered his wife his hand, "We've got to go. Now! We have to get Val."
At their daughter's name Lydia shrank back. "I can't, we can't," she pleaded, tears spilling down her cheeks, "we're monsters! She's going to be terrified!"
"We're her parents," Gerald growled, standing up and going to the door. "She knows us. She'll see past this." He slammed into the door, denting it.
The baby in her womb jumped at the sound, and Lydia cried a little harder. What would become of this child? Would he be spared their fate? The door flew off its hinges, crashing in the hallway. Alarms screamed. "Time to go," Gerald said, pulling her up and along the hallway. The next hallway was dark, but he found that his night vision was greatly improved.
From the far end of the hall a door opened. A dozen robots with weapons marched in rows of two. Gerald pulled his wife into an opened room, leaving the door opened a crack. There was no reason to get into another fight now. He was a man of strategy. They needed to get out, to get Val, to find a safe haven, to carefully plan out their next move.
When the robots had gone into the next hall he hurried his wife out and along the dark corridors until they found an exit. The night air was bitterly cold as they ran through the parking lot. It was difficult for him squeezing into the car, but he made it. He took side streets, hoping anyone who saw them would think they were on their way to some New Year's costume party. Parking in back of their apartment building he leaned in to his wife. "We're going up the fire escape," he said, turning to his wife. "We're getting Val, and some supplies, but we've got to get out fast. Understand?"
She nodded, trembling visibly.
Their living room window was locked, but Gerald smashed it in with his elbow, climbing in and then offering his hand to help his wife around the broken glass. There was a shriek from the hallway and he spun around to see fourteen-year-old Jennifer Garret hyperventilating in the hallway. "Jennifer," he said as softly as he could, taking a tentative step towards her. She leapt back, grabbing a lamp on a side table and holding it like a weapon in front of her.
"Get back!" the tiny, blonde haired girl yelped.
"It's me, Gerald Collins. There's been an accident. I need to get Valarie," he said, slowly advancing. "Don't panic."
"Get back!" she shouted again. "You're not getting Val!"
More anger than he'd ever felt before coursed through him and he leapt on the girl, toppling her to the floor. "Give me my daughter!" he growled in her face. Saliva dripped off his fangs onto her cheek as she struggled to get free.
"Gerald!" Lydia's lyrical voice came from behind him. A gentle warning, it calmed him, and he got off the terrified girl. She scrambled up, rushing to the door and he bounded to stop her, but his wife's hand was around his wrist, restraining him. "Stop Gerald!" she said softly, "let her go. We need to hurry. You get supplies, I'll get Val."
He growled, but went to their bedroom and quickly began throwing supplies into several bags.
Lydia went into Val's room. It had all the trappings of girlhood, ponies, unicorns, princesses, but also some odd things like action figures and a toy bow and arrows. Bending down, Val's eyes fluttered opened, "Mama?" she asked, rubbing her eyes.
"It's me," she said softly. Her heart dropped as her daughter's eyes grew wide. "Please don't be scared; I know I look different."
"You've got flowers in your hair," the little girl said in wonderment as she reached her hand up to feel the delicate petals.
Her mother gave a happy sigh and pulled her beautiful daughter into her arms. She wasn't afraid, and as long as they were together, things would turn out okay in the end.
Twenty minutes later, as the ball was dropping in Time Square, the Collins' car was headed towards upstate New York, where Gerald remembered an abandoned hunting lodge, deep in the woods. It would be a good place to stay, at least until they could get everything figured out. Looking in the rear view mirror, he snuck a peek at his wife in the back seat, cradling their daughter, who was sleeping again. She hadn't even flinched when she saw him, giggling as she rubbed the fur on his arms. Brave little warrior princess, he thought, with a faint hint of a smile.
In the city behind them, below the streets, a giant rat, named Splinter, was standing in front of a storm grate with his four young sons, turtles named after the grand masters of the Italian Renaissance: Leonardo, Donatello, Michelangelo, and Raphael. The children watched the celebrations above with wide eyes. "Happy New Year, my sons," he said warmly. "Welcome to the new millennium."