Don't you just love Halloween themed stories? This one isn't too horrific, more drama than thriller. But I like it.
And maybe I slipped in some Casey and Leo friendship- if you squint. But it's mostly Leo and The Pumpkin Thing.
That pumpkin didn't once avert its gaze from Leonardo.
The eldest turtle had been sitting on April's roof for the past half an hour, watching the night life evolve from a gentle hum to the usual stirring of children racing with their stash of candy.
Somewhere, down there- Mikey was goading Raph into going around another block. And Don had ditched his brothers to sneak off with April somewhere private.
And after the first ten minutes of awkwardly standing next to Casey flirting with some wizard-themed beauty, Leo evaded the pair of boys to hide out on a safe roof.
But safety was the last thing on Leo's mind when he spotted a pumpkin that certainly wasn't there five seconds ago.
Leo sat at the edge of the roof, opting to shrug off his space costume in favor of his usual ninja attire. But the lack of swords greatly troubled his mind as every shadow mimicked an enemy.
Leo's attention wavered back below him, watching a tall figure wearing a convincing bloody costume swindle through the crowd. Leo cupped his knees, leaning forward to eye the thing he knew was Casey Jones in an elaborate disguise.
He blinked, and the pumpkin was at his side.
Huh?
Leo's head slowly twisted to look at his left arm, his shoulder unintentionally hunched to block half his vision. Vision increasing until he could feel his eyelids protesting against the pressure.
That's… unsettling…
Leo drifted his head back to the front where it was a shell of a lot more safe, but he kept his shoulders tight.
But it was nothing compared to the knot in his stomach that coiled around his intestines like a wriggling creature slipping through its body and convulsing with head snapping back and forth with no pause in sight.
A chill whipped Leo's bandanas around his neck, caressing his cheeks and sliding cool fingers at the tip of his shell. The shiver that came did nothing to soothe the turtle.
Leo slowly let his eyes close, daring to open them in hopes of refreshing his dry eyes.
He shouldn't have.
The pumpkin had changed.
Leo's attention snapped back to the vegetable squashed to his side. He pulled away his limb, clutching it to his chest but aching eyes transfixed by the twitching orange.
Leo cleared his throat, earning himself a sliver of hope that he was merely overreacting. That pumpkin had to be a prank, a joke that some wild teens prepared for…
Holy-shell-it's-moving.
The pumpkin- if he could still call it that- shivered as though it too could feel the biting wind teasing him. And it morphed before Leo's very eyes.
The healthy orange- the one you'd like to find in a fresh glass of juice- degraded… evolved into some kind of horrid grey- rotting meat like old flesh of last week's road kill scavenged by desperate dogs more bones than flesh. The skin chipped at the sides, peels of the sickening smell drifting above that tore at his senses springing forced tears.
Leo reeled back, hand over snout in reflex rather than choice. Lips folded in and teeth pressing so hard on protesting flesh that the iron tinge of blood acquainted his mouth. But Leo daren't move.
Not when that thing was moving.
It twitched, once, twice…
It rolled.
Leo watched with morbid fascination when it dropped from the roof, barreling down… down… down… into the streets.
Eyes shadowing the lump of blackening grey as it radiated a stench that churned Leo's stomach. The pungent fumes polluting the air around him, competing with the horrid stink of stale piss in the alleys and lingering foul offense of feces both human and animal littering the corners.
The automatic reaction had Leo dry-heaving into his hands, the action so swift that he couldn't stop the spittle and blood from spilling onto his bare hands. Too uneasy to clean it off, Leo spared another glance over the roofs to the black remains of a puddle on the sidewalk.
Out of the corner of his eyes, Leo spotted a familiar mop of dark hair slicked with the deepest of old reds. Fair skin contrasted, white spots betraying the makeup that had been rubbed off by one too many nudges from strangers.
At least Casey was having a good time.
Leo used his shoulder to wipe the slimy body fluids off his face, the inside of his lips burning like salted alcohol on fresh wounds and his throat aching from the action.
But the scent still lingered in the air like the putrid spirit it was- clinging onto Leo's mask and drifting around his face with the threat to choke him.
Leo shook his head, bandana tails wildly slapping the side of his face with the sheer force that brought on a headache. The turtle brought slimed hands to his face, wiping his eyes but only gaining a disgusting mask instead.
Leo glared at the offensive six fingers, "Bloody shell Leo…"
And he resisted the urge to face palm, "Pull yourself together!"
"A leader should not be scared of a pumpkin,"
Then the odd off feeling of dread settled in his stomach, not the churning disgust from seconds ago, but the wrecking ball pitted in the depths of his being that pushed against his plastron and filled his throat with heaviness.
Heart hammering with the threat of blowing out his ears and shattering his shell as it exploded outwards, Leo's hand went to his back- grabbing empty air.
"Aww shell…" his censored curse slipped past bloodied lips, "I don't have my we… weap… weap…ons…"
An orange pumpkin stood before Leonardo. Basking in all its glowing glory as it twitched. Once, twice.
"Oh shell no!"
Leo leaped at it, bloodied hands making quick work of splitting down the middle with the accuracy of any knife wielding cutter, but the turtle didn't let the pride get to him- especially when the insides of the pumpkin showed more red than the green he had expected.
Leo slammed his hand against his chest, as though the very action could hold himself back.
Why the shell was the pumpkin so warm?
"Umm…"
Leo's hands patted at his side, forcing himself to reach for the T-phone he should have had on his person somewhere. But the blood he wasn't sure was his smeared the side of his gear, staining the leathered brown in a way he didn't care to explain when the guys got there.
Forget being the laughing stock of being terrified by a pumpkin.
Forget being fearless leader.
Something.
Was.
Freaking.
Wrong.
With.
That.
Blasted.
Pumpkin.
Thing.
Shell-shell-shell-shell-shell-shell…
And Leo didn't like the fact that it was turning around at him.
The turtle scrambled for his pouch at the side, hands slipping and useless fingers getting in the way of one another.
Shell-shell-shell-shell-shell-shell…
Why the shell does it have a face?
The protest died in Leo's throat when the thing jerked its head up. Odd sounds uncannily like cracking bones echoed like impossible acoustics in the open skies- earning Leo a dry mouth- save for the dripping blood leaking from his lips.
It's a head.
It's a freaking floating pumpkin head.
Leo inched backwards, his T-phone abandoned in his dilemma. The thing… it twisted and churned and cracked its face up to the cloudy skies with… with…
Glowing eyes…
The thing clicked back into place as though it were a socket falling into its home. Leo's eyes burned from the acridity of is fumes radiating off its small body with the hideous grey grin contrasting the hellfire eyes.
He's-going-to-throw-up-again.
The thing descended its eyelids like a curtain of shadow extinguishing the flames within, before snapping them open to cackling orange.
CAPTAIN RYAN NEVER HAD TO FIGHT A FREAKING JACK O'LANTERN!
Leo bolted from the scene in neck-breaking speed that had him hiding behind one bewildered Casey Jones in two seconds flat.