We stand in front of this place. It was where we chose to inter Don's body, a spot deep within the sewer where humans seldom come. We built an alcove of brick and laid him within, mortaring the remaining bricks around him so the grave would not be seen easily. We have already said our farewells, but none of us truly want to leave our brother there alone. It would be so final, turning our backs and walking away. But we must, so we do.
We leave Don behind us as we walk home silently. Nothing is left unsaid, but many tears left uncried. I try to hold my head up, to put forth a strong countenance. To be the leader that they need now more than ever. Nothing can prepare you for the loss of a brother, nothing can take away the pain and the anger. Earlier Raphael spoke of justice. Justice is sometimes a poorly disguised term for revenge. I forbade it and Raphael gave me the look that he always does when he intends to disobey my orders. I won't stop him - not if he chooses that path.
We get home and separate, each going his own way. I am still covered with Donatello's blood, though dried as it has become. I walk into the bathroom and turn on the shower. It feels odd, cold though I have the hot tap on full. I watch the blood dissolve off me and swirl down the shower drain. Don...
I turn off the water and towel myself dry. There is still some blood on me, it comes off onto the white towel. I throw it into the hamper and walk out of the bathroom, into my own bedroom. I lay down on my bed and put my hands behind my head, staring up at the ceiling. I hadn't mentioned the stranger I'd seen, but I know now that he was really there. He really did put his hand on Donatello's throat, condemning him to die. I feel myself start to drift and let my eyes close... perhaps in my sleep I will find the answers that I seek...
-
I open my eyes. I'm standing. Where am I? There's a stench around me, no breeze in the air. I look ahead, I'm on a city street, I recognize it... it is where Donny died. But I'm here in the daylight. No, not light. The sky is leaden, clouds hang motionless above me, blocking out the sun. The air is thick, almost liquid. I can barely move. I turn my face to the ground and gasp, drawing in more of the smell. I hadn't been able to identify the smell before, but now I know it is that of death, the odor of decay. Bodies lay sprawled out along the street, rotting away in death. The concrete is covered in blood, dried in places, congealed in others... and still flowing from some of the lifeless corpses around me. I close my eyes and look away, unable to move my feet from the place they have become adhered. I look down at them, i am mired up to my ankles in the blood... I look to my side in disgust and I suddenly wish I hadn't. Donatello is there, propped up against the side of a building. His throat still flows and he is unmoving, but there is something in his eyes. Life. He still has life in him here, in this place. He must endure it here, must live through the dying. Ever dying, never dead... a torture. An everlasting agony.
There is a movement at the edge of my vision, the only movement in this Necropolis. I look up and the stranger walks towards me. He has a long beard that comes to the center of his chest and his greying hair is tied back into a tail. He wears the green jacket I remembered, it is an old army coat. Maybe the kind they used in Vietnam or Korea... He isn't looking at me, but at the bodies around us on the ground. He steps around them and finally looks up at me. He has tears rolling from his eyes, dripping onto the front of the coat. He opens his mouth and speaks words that do not emerge. He's pointing at something. At me? No, behind me...
I twist to look at where he has shown me. I stare down at the ground, at a stagnant puddle of water untainted by the blood around it. Within the puddle's depths lays one of Raphael's sai. I spin back around and look at the man, pointing at him I open my mouth to demand what he is saying. My own words are as silence, even as I scream as loud as I can, there is nothing to be heard. He steps up closer and folds his hands, lowering his eyes. Was that regret..? Is he asking for forgiveness?
No... not forgiveness. He looks into my eyes and points up at the sky, then back towards the puddle. The sky..? The sun..? Time. He's telling me that I am running out of time...
-
I open my eyes and sit straight up in bed. My heart is pounding in my chest. A dream? No... no, it wasn't a dream. It couldn't have been just a dream. It was a warning... a chance...
I jump out of bed and run to Raphael's room. He isn't there. He left - he went out seeking revenge. It can't be too late, I can still get to him in time. I run to Mike's room and throw open the door.
"Come on!" I yell.
Mike jumps up and glares at me. He must have been having a nightmare, too. "Leo!" he says, running to my side. He puts his hands on my shoulders. "Leo, did you see..."
I nod as we both turn and run towards the door to the lair. We grab our weapons as we leave.
"Leo!" Mike yells as he keeps pace behind me. "I dreamed that Raph..."
"I saw it, too!" I bellow as we burst onto the street. "I saw the water, I saw the sai..." I stop and grab Mike by the arm, stopping him, as well. "Did you see anything else?" I ask hastily.
He shakes his head. "No, just that... but I know where he is!"
Mike runs on ahead and I follow. We come to a spot by the river and Mike secures his pace, I do likewise. We step along slowly, following his silently bestowed directions. We come to a culvert and Michaelangelo closes his eyes for a moment before looking inside. He turns back to me and collapses onto the sand, burying his face in his palms. I don't have to ask, I know what he found.
I kneel down and look inside. I see Raph's hand lying motionless in the murky water, inches away from his sai. I reach within and pull him out, aided in the last few feet by Michaelangelo. We lay Raph down on the sandy bank of the river and fold his hands across his chest. He's cold, stiff. He must have been there for hours already. There is no sign of a struggle - his skin is unmarred by blade or blunt, save from the battle of yesterday. He wasn't beaten to death or strangled - he was drowned. There is a trail of disturbed sand leading from the river to the culvert. A smooth path and many feet. He had been outnumbered, held under. There is no sign that he managed to take out any of the enemy when he went. I hope that he did.
This brother Michaelangelo carries. He lifts him into his arms and river water runs out of his mouth. Mike cries. No brothers ever loved so strongly as he and Raphael had. I'm trying not to cry, it doesn't work. We have lost two brothers in as many days, there will be no return for them. Finality... death. I was warned before Donatello died... I was warned before Raphael died... I didn't heed either warning, I didn't anticipate this. Who could? Who could ever be ready for such a tragedy? I should be. I should pull myself back and look on as an unwavering leader. But that is not how I see myself - I'm not a leader at this moment, I am a brother. A brother who has lost two of his own.
I look over at Mikey as he carries his burden. I will not ignore the warning next time, I will not let Mike fall into the same hell-city as I saw in my dream... my vision. I'll not let the Necropolis claim one more member of my family...
Continued...
