A/N: BWAHAHAHA!! I LIIIIVE! Finals did not manage to kill me!

Disclaimer: Own something? I wish


"Donnie," Michelangelo whined, "we've been walking forever! How much farther is it?"

"We've only been walking for about five minutes." Donatello rolled his eyes. "That hardly classifies as forever."

"It feels like forever," Michelangelo grumbled.

"Well, it does seem abnormally long," Donatello conceded. "I don't recall it being this long on the trip in. We probably just went the wrong direction and Raph went towards the door." The older turtle didn't bother to include that he was certain that they had gone the right way. He stopped suddenly, causing Michelangelo to run into him.

"Ow, Don! Give a turtle some warning next time!"

"Sorry. Look!" Donatello gestured forwards at the spiral staircase that sprouted up in front of them, its wrought iron railings caught the candlelight and shimmered like an enormous spider web.

"Great. A spooky staircase for a spooky house."

"It's not that bad, Mike. It's just dark, that's all. We both know that there's no reason to be afraid of the dark."

All of a sudden, a soft melody drifted down the stairwell, making both of the turtles jump.

"Is that spooky enough for you, Don?"

"That was a little girl's voice, Mikey. Don't tell me you're scared of a little girl."

Michelangelo stuck his tongue out.

"Maybe if we find her, we can find out what's going on."

"And maybe that was a zombie that's using a siren call to lure us to it so that it can suck out our brains and spleens!"

Donatello rolled his eyes as he started to climb up the stairs. "You watch way too many horror movies. Now come on or I'm going to leave you here all alone."

With a soft 'meep,' the youngest turtle quickly started to climb up behind his brother. Once they were halfway up, the voice sounded again, the words to its haunting song now clearly audible.

Ladybird, Ladybird, fly away home.
Your house is on fire, your children all gone.
All but one, and her name is Ann
And she crept under the pudding pan.

Unconsciously, both turtles stopped mid-step, now both very aware of the darkness that was creeping up below them as the tune danced right through the very core of their being. The voice hardly seemed to belong to an earthly being. Shadows danced wildly as the candle flickered in Michelangelo's shaking hand.

"Told you it's a zombie," he muttered, his voice falling harshly on the sudden quiet broken only by the ninjas' silent breathing.

"A-at least it's lighter up at the top." Donatello mentally winced at the nervousness that had managed to seep into his voice.

As Michelangelo looked up, he was surprised to find that his brother was right. Somehow, he had not noticed the insipid shaft of light that shimmered off the metal surrounding the top step.

All at once, they both began to bound up the steps and were quickly at the top. The stairwell opened into a large room, surrounded on all sides by stained-glass windows. The orange glow of light pollution deadened the once-vibrant colors, washing the sparse room with tepid splendor.

Michelangelo stepped towards one of the windows, pressing his forehead against the cool glass. The street below them was devoid of life. As Donatello started to look out another window, a soft creaking cracked with the force of thunder through the silence.

"Don't look at me!" Michelangelo threw his hands up, his eyes wide. "I didn't touch anything!"

"There," Donatello pointed. A lone rocking chair at the far side of the room, half hidden between shafts of light drifting through the windows on either side of it, was moving slowly. Its back was to the turtles, blocking its occupants from sight. The child's voice again began to sing the same song that they had heard while on the stairs.

Gulping to try to move the lump fast forming in his throat, Donatello crept as softly as he could towards the chair while Michelangelo remained rooted to the spot. Just as the turtle had almost reached it, the song finished and a head popped up over the back of rocking chair.

"That's my fav'rite song in the whole wide world. What's yours?" Bright blue eyes stared unafraid at the two creatures standing in front of her. Golden curls fell in a tangled mess from under a light-blue bonnet.

Michelangelo and Donatello exchanged a quick glance. "Um, I like the Roches, I guess, but I don't really have a favorite song. ."

"Oh, that's too bad!" The little girl pouted as she jumped over the edge of the chair, her blue pinafore billowing outwards. She looked to be about four years old. With a stuffed cat in hand, she stood there for a moment, staring thoughtfully at the two turtles. After a brief moment, the pout turned into a smile. "You come to play with me?"

The two turtles again exchanged a glance and Michelangelo walked forwards. After handing his candle to Donatello, he bent down on one knee before the child. "We're looking for our brother. Have you seen him?"

"Brothers all gone, sisters all gone. No one wants to play with me." Her lip quivered slightly.

"Are your parents home?" Donatello asked.

"No, no. All gone 'cept bu'ler an' he never lets me have fun." Suddenly, her face brightened and she shoved the cat-doll into Michelangelo's hands. "You play with me."

"Sorry, little dudette," Michelangelo gently pressed the doll back into her hands. "We really don't have time right now."

"But I wanna!" She crossed her arms protectively over the doll. "You're no fun!" With a small huff, she stuck her tongue out at the turtles and ran back around to the front of her rocking chair.

Michelangelo threw Donatello a helpless look as he stood back up. "Now what?"

"Well, Leo's obviously not here and it looks like there's only one way out of this room."

The younger turtle grimaced. "Back down there?"

"I'm afraid so. Here," Donatello handed back the candle.

Michelangelo licked his lips nervously as he took it; the flames cast wild shadows across the rocking chair. A loud crack shot through the room and the air tingled as though suddenly charged with electricity. Both turtles jumped.

After a moment of almost complete silence, Donatello let out a tense chuckle. "Lightning? You did say that is what this house was missing."

"Yeah," Michelangelo replied, his voice barely over a hoarse whisper. "Little dudette, um, how do we get outa this freaky house of yours?" He turned so that he could see the little girl and his body went rigid. As his eyes grew wider, his hand shook violently, sending wax flying from the candle. His mouth moved, but no sound came out.

"Mike, what's wrong?" Receiving no answer, Donatello moved so that he could see what his brother was staring at. "Oh my god…"

Instead of the vibrant child that had begged them to play only moments before, a charred corpse sat in the chair.

The chair behind the corpse began to smoke and blacken as though a fire was creeping along the wood. Suddenly, the corpse's head moved and two bright blue eyes burst open through scorched eyelids. Michelangelo screamed and both turtles forgot the fear that had sent them out of the darkness as they dashed towards the stairs.

Glancing over his shoulder for a brief second, Donatello could see flames shooting up out of the wooden chair, quickly spreading out into the room.

"Noooooooo faaaaaiiiir! I waaaanaaa plaaaaaay!" the child's voice cried from behind them. "No leaving me!"

Michelangelo and Donatello plunged into the thick darkness, their candles barely made a dent as the flames flickered uncontrollably. Donatello could not even see Michelangelo's silhouette ahead of him. All of a sudden, to his dismay, the older turtle's foot met with empty space instead of the metal step and he fell forwards into his brother.

Yelling, they fell into the darkness.


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