Disclaimer: It's been like, a week. I still don't own them.
Warning: This does contain torture. If that makes you uncomfortable please don't read the last bit.
Clouds drifted lazily across the gray sky, as if there wasn't anything in the world urgent enough to care about. But there was. Three-toed feet pounded heavily against the rooftops. Colored bandanas whipped through the wind; red, blue, and orange. Toned muscles bunched together, propelling the three shadows across the rooftops. Their breaths were quiet and even, despite the fact that they had been running for hours. Searching for hours.
Leo skidded to a stop. All his senses were screaming at him, but he couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. He glanced around cautiously as he slowly pulled his katanas from their sheaths, with his brothers quickly following suit. A simple shift in the shadows was all they needed. In an instant, shurikens were flying, the sounds of metal clanging against metal and the dull thunk of wood hitting flesh echoed across the rooftop. Other than that, it was silent. No taunting laughter, no mocking jeers, nothing.
Leo grunted as a kick caught him in the side, throwing off his balance. They were one brother short, and the Foot were taking advantage of that. Yet they were still no match for even one of the turtles, and were quickly being subdued. Raphael didn't bother holding back, and blood was flowing freely across the rooftop, gushing out of. It wasn't long before there was only one ninja left standing, his eyes wide as he stared at the turtles. He obviously hadn't been expecting them to beat his team so easily.
"I-I surrender! P-Please I have a family!" He kneeled trembling on the filthy roof, covered in the blood of his comrades. Raph snarled and raised his sai for the killing blow.
"Wait," Raph froze with his arm still in the air. Leo stalked towards the two. Grabbing the ninja by his shirt, Leo slammed him against the wall. " I have a better idea."
A feral grin made its way onto Raphael's face. He cracked his knuckles and slowly approached the cowering ninja. "I like the way you think, O' Fearless one."
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Donny snapped awake as freezing cold water hit his body.
"Wake up, freak. Master Shredder has big plans for you." Chris Bradford stood over the shivering turtle, tapping his foot impatiently. Donnie struggled to his feet. His hands were cuffed together, to keep him from fighting back most likely. Not like he was in any condition to.
He was roughly shoved forward, stumbling over his own feet, and lead through a long, dark hallway. Cell doors lined the walls, mostly empty, but some held filthy, almost unrecognizable people and mutants. A few had nothing but skeletons. Blood ran in between the bars, creeping into the center of the hall. Water dripped from leaky pipes they had never bothered to fix, creating a steady tapping sound.
They came to the end of the hallway, where a single elevator stood waiting, its silver, shiny doors contrasted against dirty concrete walls of the dungeon. Bradford pushed a button and the doors immediately opened.
"Get in," he snapped. Donny had no choice but to do as he said. The instant the doors closed they were moving. Donny glanced over at Bradford, who only sneered back. Wherever they were going, it couldn't be good.
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Raph struggled to keep up with the other two as they raced across the rooftops. He was never as fast as Leo or as nimble as Mikey, something he was currently cursing the heavens for.
"Are you sure he was tellin' the truth Leo?" He practically had to shout to be heard over the wind.
"Well we don't have much of a choice do we?" As always, Leo sounded perfectly calm, he wasn't even out of breath. Raph couldn't form a response. Leo was right. This was the only lead they had and they'd have to be stupid to ignore it.
Raph couldn't help but pause and think about how hectic their lives had become. It couldn't have been more than a few months ago that they took their first steps onto the surface, awed by the lights and intrigued by the simplest things. When had it all gone wrong? Why did they have to get caught in the feud between their clans? Why did Donnie have to get hurt because of it? He was so sweet and gentle and innocent. He still stuttered when he talked to his crush. He deserved so much more. He deserved to be happy.
With a sigh, Raph forced his legs to pump faster, and with a burst of speed, he narrowed the gap between him and his brothers. We're comin' for ya little brother.
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Donnie grunted as he was forced to his knees in the center of a small, musty room. His eyes were narrowed into slits of fury in a futile attempt at hiding his terror. Snickers and low chatter drifted from the sides of the room, where a collection of soldiers stood waiting with their masks off. A couple of them seemed to pity him, but a vast majority were either taunting him or outright refusing to acknowledge his presence.
He hated all of them.
Metal plated armor clattered behind him. Donnie wanted to look back, but Bradford's rough hands held him still. He squirmed in the tight grip but otherwise did nothing to try to get away. It wouldn't end well.
Gloved fingers brushed against his shoulder. He flinched away with a quiet gasp, but stilled when the hands tightened. His stomach churned as the fingers returned running down his shoulder and rubbing circles on his arm.
"Hello beautiful," Saki's warm breath brushed uncomfortably against his exposed skin.
Suddenly the hands were gone. The ropes around his wrists were cut in one smooth stroke and he was... free?
Donnie spun around, falling backwards in his haste. Shredder was grinning maliciously at him. A lump of panic rose in his throat.
Bradford wasted no time in grabbing the turtle, who made no move to defy him, and dragging his body to the wall. Chains fastened his arms and legs to the slimy stone wall. The whispering got louder.
Shredder stepped forward. There was a lanky man beside him, pushing a cart that seriously needed to be oiled. "Donatello," he drawled. "You are the smartest of your brothers, yes." The Shredder's smile only grew when Donnie's lips drew back in a snarl. "I would assume you know what this does?" He lifted a contraption off the cart. Donnie was beginning to wish he hadn't read that book on mid evil torture.
Saki seemed to have read his mind. "You haven't been talking much anyway." Donnie's lips clamped together in a tight line as the devise drew closer to his face, earning laughter from around the room.
The cold metal was pressed against his lips now, sending a wave of panic through Donnie's mind. He was terrified. Terrified of the tongue tearer, of Bradford's calloused hands, and most importantly his complete and utter loss of control. There was absolutely nothing he could do to protect himself. Tears bubbled in his eyes as he pressed himself as firmly against the wall as possible.
Donnie didn't even notice that the sharp metal was gone until he heard the quiet clink of someone setting it down on the cart. He opened his misty eyes and stared at his captors in confusion. The skinny guy was clumsily handing something over to The Shredder while struggling to get his trembling hands under control. As they turned towards him, Donnie caught a glimpse of a knife. A huge knife, specifically, with the serrated edge gleaming wickedly in the dim lighting. He sucked in a breath, tears once again building in his eyes. The men's voices faded in and out in the background, pulsing in rhythm with his racing heart. He couldn't breath. As soon as the knife touched his insides froze. This was it. Say your prayers Donatello 'cause you're as good as dead.
It went in slowly, slicing through the tough layer of protective shell before piercing the skin underneath. Donnie screeched in agony. There was nothing he had ever felt in his life that came anywhere close to the pain he was feeling right now. Saki sawed slowly through his plastron, right down the middle, without even a twinge of remorse. Because why would someone like him give a crap about a mutant freak such as himself.
Blood flowed freely from the wound, gushing out around the knife and staining the stone floor. Tears rolled down his face and dripped off his chin, collecting on the ridge of his plastron. They mixed with his blood, swirling together perfectly and creating beautiful patterns. The crystal red color clashed with his splotchy green legs. That right there is the color of pain, he thought to himself.
Something was pressed against the cut in an attempt to get the bleeding under control. Donnie cried out at the unwanted contact, his torn throat cracking in protest. He couldn't remember the last time he had tasted water.
Donnie drifted in and out of consciousness. They had somehow stopped the bleeding enough to keep him alive. You can't torture someone that's already dead. There was shouting and laughing and the chains on his arms were released. Hands grabbed him tight enough to bruise and there was a face directly in front of his own.
"Had enough yet turtle?"
Never.