"I promise." The hushed words flowed over the clammy face of the crumpled girl before they
were swallowed by the all-consuming darkness. A shudder. A sigh. Nothing.
The strange new creature watched as the girl seemed to deflate. It was almost as if all life had been sucked
out of her tired skin, leaving only an empty casing before him. But, even in the black, his trained eyes could see the
shallow, unsteady rise and fall of her chest. His sharp ears picked up the harsh wheeze that accompanied her continued
existence. Beads of cool sweat clamoured over the fingers of his hand, still firmly lodged at the nape of her neck. The
heat of her skin leeched into his, warming first the top layer of his epidermus before seeping further into his flesh, further into
his muscle, until, at last, the new heat was bone deep. His hand, warmed by flesh, by the very life of the girl in his grasp,felt
strangely alien, inconsistant with his body's own core. And as his hand pulsed with foreign heat, he knew still that it was
not enough. He,as cool as the chilled air that engulfed him, sensitive to the elevated heat of the sleeping girl, was aware that her heat
was not what it should be. His skin knew intimately, secretly, the heat human flesh could radiate. The soothing warmth that accompanied
the warm-blooded. He reveled in it. Secretly. Wantonly. From a distance. His hand was merely warmed by the girl. Soothing. Relieving, even.
But not the consuming, absolute heat that he would expect from such complete contact. Again, he hissed. This girl was farther gone then
they had hoped.
"I promise".
The creature scuttled closer, scooping the crumpled form securely in his arms, then rose, with grace and precision.
He was alone now. With his arms occupied, aware of his own vulnerablility, and that of his charge, he melted once
again into the numerous shadows. His feet made no sound as they carried the two from the dank, sour room. His eyes never rested, always
scanning, pressing into the darkest reaches of the shadowed hallway he now roamed. This enemy was not to be underestimated. They were
a worthy advisary. A challenge he did not wish to accept. Expecting any mercy on their part would be foolish.
A mistake once made in the past. A mistake he was not likely to commit again.
His bulky form slid through the darkness as smoke. Fitting to every black corner, shifting to fill every shadow, making no sound, leaving
nothing to tell.
Reaching a short, cement hallway, he paused, breathing shallow, steady as he slipped his sight around the bend. The low ceiling, and tight
walls would impede his rather quick progress. He let a silent prayer of thanks and hope drift momentarily through his mind. The architecture was
familiar. He shifted the girl in his arms. The sweat that had begun to soak through the back of her dingy shirt had dampened his forearms. Still
the heat that radiated from her form seemed to have lessened even since his discovery of her. The end of the corridor was drowned in darkness.
Only memory served to tell that a doorway existed in the pitch black. And beyond that doorway, air,free of the stench of rot and decay. The hallway
stood empty. Deserted. Boring. His knowing eyes scanned the corridor again, searching where the beloved door must be.
There.
Near the end of the
hall. A shadow within the shadows. A suggestion of density within the air. Snapping back around the bend, out of sight, the creature breathed in a lungful
of the offensive air. One more breath.From his throat escaped a barely audible sigh. A soft sound that was greedily eaten by the grasping shadows that clothed him. Barely
audible. Except by ears trained to listen for advancing shadows. From around the bend, an answer, akin to the wind through a naked tree.
Slowly the animal proceded down the hall, stooped, hunched, cradling his charge protectively. As mindful to sheltering her from his own hulking form, as
any potential dangers. Ahead, his eyes saw the dense matter shift, rise, grow, and then take on defintion. He moved towards it, coming to stand beside
it as he reached the doorway. He stood there a moment in the darkness, and watched as his companion scanned the girl in his arms from her face, to her body,
down her legs, then back again, settling quickly on her face. It grunted. The creature shifted the being in his arms again, shrugging his shoulders while doing so, and
bringing the girl to rest more securely against his hard chest.
"That her?"
"I would assume so... I hope so"
A curt nod of the head. The second creature turned towards to the door. "Be ready to get out of here fast, we dont want any attention here. So far, I think we're
all under the radar." He tried the handle. It turned smoothly, a slight whine as the tired metal shifted. His eyes scanned the darkness. "What took you so long anyhow?"
He threw a look over his shoulder at his waiting partner, his snout pulled up at one end in a vicious snarl.
"Leo's gotta be having a fit. Heh" His head turned back towards the fresh air and quiet settled on them as he searched the horizon.
"Yep, they are. You want me to take her, Donnie?"
"I'm fine. Lets go."
"Okay. Lets do this," as he slid out from behind the heavy sheet of steel, stepping aside and holding the door ajar as Donatello slid out into the night after him.
Without a whisper of sound between the two of them, they quickly made thier way several yards from the structure that had until recently held them, all the while
bleeding into the black of the night. Donatello could feel the sharp sting of the wind off the water as it whipped the ties of his bandana against the side of his neck.
He breathed it in, grateful, as he came to rest with his companion behind some discarded oil drums, long since rusted.
"Please tell me this is the right girl." Donnie heard the smile in his brother's voice. A hand landed roughly, impatiently on his shoulder, trying to turn him unsuccessfully.
He turned and faced the man behind him. The man gasped, drawing the air in through his teeth, much like Donatello had done on initially feeling the girl's low temperature.
"Thats her, but...God."
The reaction was understandable.
A timid green hand reached towards the sleeping girl's face, drawing back some of the matted hair that had fallen on her closed eyes.
"Leos up top. Come on." The timid hand retracted, and it's owner sprung into the darkness leaving the others to follow or be left. Donatello cast a quick glance over his
shoulder. His brother rested a hand on the Man's shoulder. Donatello followed, the girl did not have time for shock or grief. He trusted his brother to care for their friend, he
had to care for the girl. Raphael was foolish in many ways, but he would not allow him or his only friend to be sighted. He found his guide on the roof of a nearby warehouse.
One, that he trusted was deserted. He trusted that fact not because of the appearance or quiet, but due to the presence of his eldest brother, crouched deceptively
patiently on the edge. He walked away from the ledge to his brother who had met him below and led him to this rendez-vous, his only acknowlegment to the other, a short
nod of the head. He knew Leonardo was curious, but would not bother him until they were in a more secure holding. It was not safe here. Here it was open. He crouched
down by his brother and rested the girl in his lap, taking advantage of the stop to once again check her for signs of life best her could. Again, that timid hand returned,
brushing hair from her forehead, and when that was all smoothed out of the way, gently smudging the filth from her cheek. Donatello looked up at his younger brother.
His head was down, but he knew from the stoop in his shoulders, and the light tremble of his fingers that his eyes would be blurred with tears. Donatello looked agian at the
girl, for the first time, really accessing the damage she had survived. Her lip was cut, swollen. Blood has dried down the side of her face, he suspected
a nasty lump had formed under her matted hair, and feared that her unsteady condition may had been caused by a concussion, rather than mere
malnutrition as he had initially surmissed. Two fingers of her right hand were bent three places at unnatural angles. Her left arm hung loosely at her side, useless.
Donatello, shut his eyes, shaking his head. He did not want to know what other abuse she may have suffered, what evidence he may find if he were to
thoroughly examine her. He forced his large finger to her neck, desperate for distraction. Her pulse pushed lightly against his fingertip.
"We have to hurry," to noone in particular.
"We're taking her to Casey's". He looked up to find his Blue brother standing over his shoulder, the Man in question just beyond him.
Donatello scooped the delicate mass back into his arms, taking special care to fold her left arm across her body before taking off into the night,
flanked by his bretheren.