Author's Note:
The second chapter is finally here! It took forever, I know, because I'm a huge procrastinator. But I finally made myself do it for all of my (non-existent) fans! I think this turned out okay, but it was weird under the circumstance…anyways… Hope you like it!
Oh and, this is like a jump from chapter one, and it's gonna continue to jump around. Just so you know.
Ever since he was little, Michelangelo had always been afraid of the dark. Everybody had their thing. Leonardo hated heights, Raphael hated bugs, Donatello seemed to be afraid of failure, and he was uneasy in the dark. Maybe it was the way the shadows bump off objects and make them look ten times bigger. Maybe it was the eerie silence of the night that creates uneasiness, as if there is someone waiting to jump out at you around every corner. Or maybe it was the moment of confusion when you can't tell whether or not your eyes are open. Whatever the reason, Michelangelo hated the dark, and he still felt the same surge of nervousness, opening his eyes to darkness, as he did when he was younger.
The first time he opened his eyes, he shut them again, thinking he had woken upon the couch late at night, as per usual. He yawned silently, and rolled over on to his side. A sudden, sharp pain in his shoulder made him unwillingly cry out, and he flipped back again.
Now somewhat awake, the realization that he was not at home began to sink in. The floor he was on felt cold and hard, and there was not a sound to be heard. Not daring to open his eyes yet, Michelangelo lay on his plastron, listening for a sound. His heart pounded in his ears, but that was it. Wherever he was, he was alone. He let out all of his breath at once, and suddenly began shaking. He was freezing.
Eyes still clamped shut, Michelangelo used his right arm to prop himself up on a wall right behind him. He breathed slowly, and prepared himself for anything. He slowly opened his eyes. Nothing. He blinked hard, and then opened them again. Wider this time. His head darted back and forth, as panic overtook him.
Where was he? Why was it dark? How long had he been out? Where were his brothers? How did he get here? As questions swam through his head, Michelangelo began shaking again. His eyes continued to dart back and forth as he searched for something, anything, to help him figure something out. A sudden surge of pain washed over him as his heartbeat sped up, as well as his breathing. His head swam faster, and he began to question if he was okay. Michelangelo gulped loudly and drew in a shaky breath, trying to calm himself.
Okay. What would Donny say? Stay calm, and figure out your situation before you freak out. Poetic? No. Logical? Yes. Okay, Mikester, think.
He leaned his head back against the wall, and tried to clear his head, but was distracted by the fact that his left shoulder hurt, bad. He ran his fingers over it, and then quickly drew them back. It didn't feel right. It felt…bent out of shape or something. Michelangelo's heartbeat picked up once again. What happened? What was wrong? He tried to stretch his arm out, but his shoulder. suddenly throbbed, and he yelped. He quickly shook the questions from his head, and placed one hand on his chest, forcing himself to stay calm.
I'm okay. I'll be fine. I'm Mikey. The positive one. The battle Nexus Champion! I've been worse.
He frowned and bit his lip at his own thoughts. In the back of his mind, he knew he was probably lying to himself, but his heartbeat slowed down again nonetheless. He sat still, scarcely breathing, trying to ignore the pain in his shoulder. He figured he was fine everywhere else, until another sharp pain in his left upper arm told him otherwise. He brought his hand up to it, and grimaced with disgust when he discovered it wet with blood. He drew back his hand, not interested in how long the gash traveled.
Michelangelo sighed. The darkness was getting to him, so he decided to talk to himself to break the eerie silence.
"Bros, where are you?" He asked nobody. He paused. "Gee, that was dumb. Not like they can hear me. Wait… Any bros in here?" He frowned when his voice echoed around the room. "Guess not... Okay, well if any bros decide to come get me, I'll be here." Michelangelo sighed again. This wasn't working.
It's always me. He thought to himself. I always do something dumb, and I always end up getting kidnapped. It must be a thing with bad dudes. Go for the cute one. Cuteness is a curse, I swear… As soon as I remember what happened, whoever did whatever they did, is gonna pay.
Michelangelo stiffened at how stupid that sounded., even in his head. It was true, though. He didn't even remember how he got wherever he was. Questions sprang back to his head once again.
What if my bros are never coming? What if they don't know I'm gone? What if they don't care? …No. That was dumb. Of course they would care. If they were capable… Oh, shell. What if they're like, hurt or something? Or worse? What if-
He stopped, not wanting to finish his own thought. But the more he tried not to think about that possibility, the more he did. He squeezed his eyes shut, and tried to clear his head again. He had to get out of here. He traced one hand over his shoulder again. He could probably get out, but he'd have to be very careful.
If only my bros were here. They'd know exactly what to do. I'd be all freakin' out, Raph would smack me one on the head, Donny would tell us both to calm down, and Leo would come up with a butt-kickin' plan.
One lone tear streaked down Michelangelo's face. He hated feeling so helpless. He was a ninja. Best of the best! Or, so he liked to think. He wrapped his arms around his knees. Pain wracked his body. His shoulder felt like it was going to pop out with every passing second. And when he stretched out his arms, he was sure the broken skin ripped even further. And on top of that, his head began to throb. At this point, allowing himself to pass out felt like a better option than trying to escape. Still instead, he sat shaking, as unstoppable pain surged through him.
You're okay. You're okay. You're okay. I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay…
"SHELL!" Michelangelo suddenly shrieked. "OWOWOWOWOW! Why does it-" He stopped. His blood ran warm and then cold. He straightened out his legs, and turned his head ever so slowly to the left. He could've sworn he heard a moan. "H-hello?"
So, yeah. That was chapter two. Mikey's my favourite, so that let's me get away with some meanness, no? Anyways, I am personally begging you. If you are physically reading this right now, PLEASE REVIEW! Any comments appreciated. I want feedback! …Thank-you.
