Chapter Four:
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Like a drowning man suddenly tossed ashore, I gasped long and deep and swallowed huge gulps of air.
Blinking wildly I stared disoriented at the dark blue sky that hung over my head, and I didn't move.
I blinked, staring quizzically as the innocent stars twinkled, oblivious to the bloodshed battle roaring abound.
With a throbbing headache I groaned, bit back a colorful stream of words when the thumping pounded against my brain, and then pushed off the dirty floor. I examined myself, noting a few cuts and bruises and minor bleeding here and there, but nothing to worry about, so at the glimmer of my weapon where it lay besides me, I picked it up and pushed to my feet.
A slight nausea hit my stomach and the taste of bail climbed up my throat, the sickness waved in front of my eyes as my vision blurred and my head spun. After a moment of leaning against a wall, swallowing large gulps of air, meditating lightly to channel away the jolts of pain buzzing through every inch of muscles in my body, I regained my balance enough to stand on my two feet without tripping.
I nearly jumped out of my shell when a loud shout came, followed by a loud, echoing 'Thump!' as if something really large and heavy fell and hit the ground. I rubbed my head, shook the nausea away as much as I could, and then wobbled a bit towards the direction of the sound, which was when I heard the sounds of people shouting.
With my shell pressed against the wall I hid into the shadows, peered past the corner to see two men on the floor, bloodied and somewhat bruised, but clearly alive and kicking. Those two punks, with Purple Dragon tattoos on their arms were near an old well of sorts, and one of them was trying to pick up his partner, ready to escape the scene.
Looking around the area, I saw it was that abandoned factory place Casey took us to a couple of months back, except some buildings were already torn down, and now there were lots of holes around, too. It nearly looked like a mob of enormous moles had a digging or tunneling competition at this place, long before we got here.
"Where'd it go?" a man gasped, panting heavily in loss of breath, then grimaced and hissed in pain as he clutched his stomach.
"I managed to kick it off, the bloody bloke fell down the well, it won't be coming after us no more, the freak." His partner rambled on and gestured towards the half broken wall with a clear hole showing in view. He took a gun from his pocket and shoved it in his friend's hand, "Here, use this till we get outta here, the master won't like this one bit," he glanced at the well, as if expecting whatever it was to come out after them.
I didn't have to wonder who they were talking about, because as far as these mugs were concerned there were only four freaks after them. I remembered bits and pieces of where I was and what I was doing here- there, and I realized in one mind numbing moment, one of my brothers was probably the one who fell down the bottom of that ditch.
My brothers and I were after this smuggler, a dealer of sorts who was supposed to be looking for Hun for some reason, and these two dingbats are probably his faceless minions. Leo told us to split and track them down, there were six of these guys, and we were supposed to round them up and then leave them to the police once we get the boss smuggler's name and location.
I remember Leo and Don already contact me saying they already caught four, so these two are the last two left. I was up the roof at the time, but for the life of it, I can't remember what I was doing on the bottom of the floor.
Maybe I imagined it, being on the rooftop I mean, or maybe I was missing something and didn't remember the part when I actually descended the building, but either way I'll dwell into it later, because this is just not the time.
About then, the comment about the 'freak' they pushed down the well was obviously one of my brothers, and I had to get him out, but since I owe them a knuckle sandwich, I'm gonna have to deal with them first.
Naturally, they didn't know what hit them. I didn't even give them the chance to cock that gun before I was breathing down their necks. I knocked two birds with one clean punch then tied them up, and then tossed them aside for the moment.
I was just about to climb down the well to check on who was as the bottom, to see if it was indeed one of my brothers or an unfortunate soul, and to see if he's alive or dead since it looked like a seriously deadly fall; only to catch glimpse of a three fingers hand clutching the edge of the surrounding brick wall, my brother had climbed his way back up and actually managed to greet me with a cheesy grin.
I admit I was really glad he got out of there alive, and seeing he had was roughed up but no serious injuries on him, and although I could have sworn he was the one to hit rock bottom from the loud thumping sound I heard earlier, the niggling thought of how he could have survived the fall wouldn't leave me alone, so I decided to worry about it later.
He said when the thug managed to kick him he didn't notice the well and toppled back, but half way through the drop he tried to grab onto something, only to clutch a loose boulder, it dropped off its perch and the huge boulder fell with him, so while he managed to grasp another ledge and climbed his way back up, the boulder continued to fall and hit the bottom, and it was the cause of the thump.
Although I was a bit skeptical cause his hands didn't look injured, no bleeding or cracked nails from climbing the bricks, I put it on lady luck and escorted him back to our meeting point.
I had plans to ask him about it again once we got home, but he was tired and drained, and slept during the whole trip home, and I really didn't have the heart to wake him up, he looked like death warmed over.
Of course, that was at least four days ago, and Leo kept rambling about this creature that attacked him in the bathroom yesterday. The attack never accrued again and Leo is already getting better, but argued he still sensed the thing nearby at some occasions, and then the sensation would fade some other times. He rambled on how frustrating it was the creature, as he called it, wasn't doing anything and just lingered there, watching us.
Frankly? I think Fearless Leader lost it, maybe that bump in the head knocked something loose.
I think my fall off that rooftop knocked something loose, too; because I've been feeling- wired ever since that night.
Sometimes I'd feel sort of tingly as if someone was caressing my skin with dainty, cold fingertips, sensual and teasing, but still faint enough to make me think I imagined it. I'd remember bits and pieces of that night, other times I feel like I'm seeing things for the first time after the fall. It felt as if someone had set a lock on my brain, and only when I'm thinking of a certain something does the lock unlock and I do remember, if only vaguely, but it doesn't always work. Most of the time the thought would be on the tip of my tongue, but no matter how hard I try it wouldn't come out.
Although I don't remember much of how long it had been since it started, my memory jumping around I mean, to be honest I remember only being in the dojo working out on the punching bag, when things suddenly- changed.
Leo was in his bedroom, probably meditating and grouching about the headache. He ought to be thankful his skull wasn't fractured, or that he didn't get a concussion after that trip. Don is in his lab working on this little piece of equipment, ready to install it into sensei's new heating system.
Mike- was… somewhere around here, I think; I dunno, I don't remember when I last saw him, actually.
Bah, knowing that little pipsqueak, he's probably hiding in some dark little corner giggling his butt off and plotting a prank.
But I remember I stood there in front of the punching bag. My body stilled and I felt so- so… I dunno, cold. It felt as if every droplet of sweat rolling down every curve and chisel of muscle in my body suddenly froze into thick spikes of ice, they felt like thorny blisters against my flesh, pinching the flesh and causing uncomfortable jolts through the tight nerves.
The sandbag in front of me suddenly zoomed out of view, as if it had suddenly been sucked back twenty feet away.
Wait, twenty? The dojo isn't that large… or, is it?
Blurred vision danced before my eyes, and I heard the unmistakable sound of water currents gurgling softly in my ears, as if I was fish swimming casually deep underwater. Dizzied, I stopped and attempted to press my palm on my forehead to wipe away the sweat, where a salty droplet hung from the corner of my brow and threatened to roll into my eye, but that's when I discovered my muscles were all so stiff and frozen solid, all I could do was twitch my fingers and blink, unable to move.
My neck was stiff as stone as well, and my whole frame was petrified, it was alarmingly unnerving.
'Do you feel that?' a voice whispered in my ear.
A wild shiver shook my spine and I felt my eyes bug out, and with my breath caught in my throat, I couldn't even turn my head around to face the owner of that voice no matter how hard I tried. Every column in my neck felt like it had been merged into the other and formed one thick cord. My spine was stiff like the rest of my body, and it felt like something- someone was controlling it, and whoever it was he was standing right behind me.
"Feel what?" I barely whispered, my voice husked from thirst. I've worked on the punching bag for a good hour now and hadn't stopped for a break, so I really hadn't used my voice till now.
'The fear,' he whispered with a faint hissing sound, a hint of mesmerized awe in his disturbingly familiar, yet eerily unfamiliar voice, 'Do you feel it beating in your chest, fast like an antelope fleeing a wild beast's mighty maw? Swelling and expanding inside of you like a balloon, to perhaps suddenly explode with a blaze of scorching fury? Freezing your heart in a fleeting, stilling heartbeat? Do you feel it suffocating you, overwhelming you like a shadow of the midnight sun,' he continued.
"Yeah yeah yeah, how very poetic of you, that's really nice." I interrupted with a grump, and fought the urge to roll my eyes at his weird choice of words, controlling the infesting sense of dread from welling any thicker in my stomach. I'll be damned if I'd let it show. "So how about you let go of me, I don't have all night." I argued, counting the seconds and musing how I'm going to rearrange his face once I'm free.
He didn't answer immediately, a hint of annoyance lingered before he did reply, probably irritated at my sarcasm to his cheesy poetry, 'Neither do your brothers,' he adding to my earlier suggestion with a low laugh.
I gasped when I tried to jerk my neck around to look at the little punk, only to have this- him- it turn my head back forward too roughly and strained a muscle in my neck. I grunted and stifled the shout of pain, the muscle was jerk hard and the throbbing hammered against my brain, it hurt! But once I managed to collect myself I snarled and bit back a spiteful growl, meditating lightly to channel the pain away.
'I don't remember giving you permission to move,' he admonished and I sensed him come closer, an eerie chill make my skin crawl.
"I don't remember giving a damn to your opinion," I snarled, irritation sparked like a flame and consumed my unease to the last speck, "What- the shell do you want?" I hissed through grit teeth, the pain in my neck still strung on the sore muscle, but not too much as I was still aware of my surroundings.
'Nothing, I already have what I came for.' He- it murmured sullenly, 'But I was bored, so I thought I'd have a little fun while I'm still here.' It added, and an eerie chuckle followed as the voice came even closer.
I tensed when I actually felt his fingertips against my shell, the same light-touched and teasing fingers as before, and a nasty shiver prickled every inch of skin on my body with that cold touch. My heart throbbed manically against my plastron, and I felt the blood drain from my head as if someone was sucking every droplet out of my system.
I couldn't control the wayward of emotions that suddenly surged through my mind, as my body grew weaker and my legs were becoming shaky. It was making me dizzy and my legs weakened, but stubbornly I refused to let them buckle. I felt like I had been tossed into a spiral, the eye of the storm, or even like a computer system crashing during overload, it was- overwhelming.
I squeezed my eyes shut as pressure gradually grew thicker and thicker, bit back a groan and felt like my brain was about to explode. But then suddenly stopped and I gasped sharply, eyes bugged out again, bright lights assaulted my orbs and I was blinded for what felt merely seconds.
I tried to shield my eyes, or to rub my skull but I still couldn't move, my arms were heavier than lead.
Then right out of sheer oblivion I flashed my eyes open and gasped for air, only to discover I was in my bedroom and in my very own bed. Leo, looking just fine with no bandages sat besides me, a cool damp rag in his hand he used to dap on my temple. When I tried to talk my voice failed me and he shushed me gently, that rag tenderly moved across my forehead absorbing the sweat and cooling the aching headache.
"You blacked out in the dojo, Donny said you overexert yourself with too many hours of work and no breaks." My brother murmured, "And now you've got a fever and you've been out for quite a while," he added with a chiding tone.
"Leonardo?" sensei's voice came from somewhere around the room.
I blearily blinked, my heavy eyelids tried to clamp over my orbs, keeping me captive to the darkness. I gratefully perked at father's voice, but felt guilty because I realized he had probably come home, only to discover me out of commission.
Gee, what a lousy way to welcome your old man home.
"He's okay sensei, he's awake." Leo's voice replied, and then it was followed by something else I couldn't catch, his voice was lost as the gurgling sound of water tickled my ears again.
I shook my head and tried to speak, I didn't want that thing to get between me and warning my family. If it was indeed the thing that attacked Leo in the bathroom, I want to warn them or at least do something about it. But I wasn't even coherent enough to even understand what I was trying to say, words meaningless and obscure spouted from my mouth, and Leo just shushed me and said I was being delusional.
The last I remember was that gentle, warm furry hand on my temple and a soothing voice, and then darkness.
I slept, and while lost in the realm of the abyss, I wondered through the path I knew so very little, yet felt so familiar.
….
Bleary and drowsy, I blinked a few times to clear my vision.
I managed to raise a heavy arm, with a balled fist rubbed the sand from my eyes.
A whole minute passed before I craned my stiff neck to the sides, the dull throbbing ache was still there, before I realized I was in my bedroom alone. Dizzied and feeling drained physically of every speck of energy I ever had, I tried to push myself up but the nausea returned and I had to stay still for a moment for it to pass. I saw I wasn't in my hammock but on a futon on the floor, the hammock had been taken down off its poles and folded, then placed aside to reserve space.
Groaning loudly I palmed my face and tried to sit up again, and then fought the next wave of sickness that climbed up my throat, it was worse than before. I think I'm gonna hurl.
"Raph, you shouldn't be moving." Don's soft whisper boomed in my ears like an explosion, as his nearly soundless steps sounded like the pounding of a marching band.
I groaned again, hands on the sides of my head to block out the deafening noise. "Not so loud!" I whispered with a pained hiss, eyes squeezed shut, my head throbbed as the pulsating ache pounded against my skull, and a sense of heat surged through my neck. That's when his hand surprised me with the gentle, cool touch against my forehead, it was amazingly soothing.
"God, you're burning!" he breathed deep as his voice full of worry and concern, and then eased me onto the bed again without much of a fight. I really didn't feel like doing much of anything, "Don't move, I'll go get some ice," he merely said before he bolted out of the room.
By the time he did come back, I was hurling my lunch into the wastebasket, lurching and gagging, grimacing at the horrible bitter taste that latched to my throat like slimy sick leeches. I felt his hand touch my shell and rub gently, urging me not to hold back and let it all out.
Once done, I got over my pitiful embarrassment, he handed me a cool water bottle and instructed me to rinse my mouth. The feel of cool water in my dry, aching mouth and soothing the heat that scorched my tongue was amazingly good, but sadly I couldn't swallow any of it, cause the aftertaste was still in thick balls of slime latched to my throat, it made me want to gag again just thinking about it.
Dizzied and disoriented once again, all I recall was being guided back to bed, my head felt light and my sight was blurred and swimming.
For a long while I relaxed, recovering from the nausea and resting, but then the eerie feeling returned.
Like a siren, I only remembered hearing the lulling voice murmur and say something, and instead of panic I found myself dulling, almost as if I was slowly being hypnotized. I'm not sure what happened, all I remember was the sensation of drifting aimlessly in the middle of nowhere, before this odd burning pain starting on my hands, before the same ache and heat started on my feet.
It burned hotly against my already hot and sweaty flesh, but it also smelled like copper- blood?
When I opened my eyes, though I don't recall closing them, I blinked and gazed hazily into a brother's blank eyes.
I was about to try and say something to him, but then noted there was something there, a gleam in his eyes of sorts I could not read.
And when he grinned with pearl white teeth with a smile so dark and eerie, I knew in that moment of helplessness this turtle was not my brother…
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A/N: …
