Disclaimer: As always, I don't own 'em. The fishies told me so. :)

Chapter Three

In late breaking news this morning one of our very own, Manhattan native Danielle Dresden otherwise known as 'Dee Dee,' was reported missing. In the field, Serene O'Conner brings us this story. Serene?

Thank you, Diane. With me is Michael Hermann, fiancé of the missing Danielle Dresden. Michael, is there anything that you would like to say in regards to her sudden and untimely disappearance?

On the television, the camera moved from that of the short woman to the relatively tall dark-skinned man that stood next to her.

'Yes, please anyone with any information as to where she is, please-'

"You can't be serious!"

Raphael's sharp exclamation cut through the otherwise empty den. The remote was suddenly airborne as he threw it at the offending television and as a result, it shattered, falling to the floor in several distinct pieces. Somehow though, the TV was left unbroken and on it the news itself continued. However, by then no one was around to hear it. Raphael was already gone.

Another disappearance? What an ironic coincidence…

"Leo! You won't believe this!"

"First, Dr. Almasy's disappearance, then the policeman guarding the lab, then the strange body in the alleyway and now, Danielle Dresden is suddenly missing…"

Leonardo paced the length of his room's floor. Around him his brothers also pondered the incidences for what they were worth. After being immediately woken up and suddenly brought to date with the newest of their investigations by an understandably angry Raphael, Leonardo insisted that Raph go ahead and wake up the others as well. In reality, this was really the first time that they had actually gotten together since coming home last night.

After discovering the body in the alleyway, there was much debate as to what to do about it. Nevertheless, and in the end, Raphael's argument seemed to be the most rational, considering the circumstances.

They should do absolutely nothing. They should just put the trash can back where it was and go home.

Besides, what could they do? This was just as much of a mystery to them as it will be for the police when they find the body.

Key word? When.

It was only a matter of time before the authorities would take charge.

Besides, by the time they had all gotten home last night it was unanimously agreed upon to wait until the light of day to discuss the issue.

Nevertheless, sleep was just as challenging, especially after finding something like that. Raphael had been completely unable to sleep which was why he was even awake early enough to catch the five o'clock news. Nevertheless, it was a good thing that he did.

It seemed that their little "investigation" was getting more and more complicated with each passing day.

Now, Donatello spoke up, his voice timid and sleepy. He must have had a restless night as well.

"The body…Do you think that it's…"

Donatello trailed off knowing that there was no need to finish his statement. He knew that everyone else was already thinking the same thing.

Danielle Dresden and the body in the alleyway. Were they one in the same?

From the bed, Michelangelo seemed to shutter, and Donatello couldn't blame him. After all, Mikey was the one that had initially discovered the "sac." Don knew that if it was him, instead of Michelangelo, he wouldn't have been able to sleep soundly for a year, especially with something that gruesome.

How Mike was able to sleep at all was beyond him.

Nevertheless, before Donatello could further ponder the well being of his younger brother, that same brother spoke up for the first time that morning.

"But, how? How did she end up like that?"

There was a short silence before yet another voice finally broke it.

"Well…"

Raphael spoke up from his spot against the door frame, uncrossing his arms only to cross them again, this time in reverse. This was something that Leonardo immediately took note of. Raphael only switched back and forth like that when he was truly bothered about something.

'I guess this whole thing is cutting deeper into him than he's letting on…'

Nevertheless, and oblivious to his brother's thoughts Raphael continued with his own attempt at rationalization.

"…It's obvious that she was murdered. No one ends up like that by accident. I just don't understand what that shit around her was." He concluded, uncrossing and crossing his arms, yet again. At this everyone seemed to perk, three of the four turtles turning simultaneously to their brother in purple.

Suddenly under their gazes, Donatello rustled.

"…What?" Don blinked. Around him his brothers continued to stare.

"Well, Donny?" Raphael bantered. "What was it?"

His brothers' stares were unyielding, and in response he just continued to blink back.

"What? How am I supposed to know…?"

"Well that's easy," Michelangelo buzzed in as if it was blatantly obvious. "You know everything."

"Well not this." Donatello sharply shot back before growing just slightly disappointed in his own lack of knowledge. Sighing, he dropped his head into his hand as if to clear it before continuing through his own fingers. "I don't recognize any of this. If this was indeed a murder, then why the dismemberment of her body?" Donatello questioned, finally speaking up with his own doubts, the very same doubts that had been picking at his mind all night. While everyone else had concluded that it was just a murder, plain and simple, he had other thoughts. Finally looking up from the protection and comfort of his own hand Donatello received the response he had been waiting for.

Two blank stares greeted him, as well as a harsh scoff from his red-banded brother as he promptly responded.

"Easy. The bastard was a scumbag."

Raphael's eyes narrowed as he re-crossed his arms yet again. Donatello knew that this entire thing had Raphael riled, so he knew better than to disagree.

"That is a possibility. But that still does not explain the fact that parts of her body was actually missing. As in, they were not there aka, they are somewhere else…"

Donatello gave the turtles a few moments to soak in the bit of information before continuing.

"Also, although it is possible that there is some sick person out there disturbed enough to completely mangle a corpse, that still does not explain the 'sac' we found her in or the dark stuff we found surrounding the crime scene." He correlated aloud, bringing the various points to a head. There were many things that were still very much unexplained about the previous night; many mysteries that still needed to be delt with. Until they were dealt with, however, he could not just bring himself to conclude the most simplest of answers. There was just too much to factor, way too much to make any definite conclusions without the needed scrutiny behind it.

Meanwhile, Leonardo sighed in thought. Donatello did have a point.

There were just too many questions left unanswered.

"Well then, it's settled. Tonight, and every night for now on, we will be on patrol. Whoever, or whatever this is, it is terrorizing the city, and as such, we have a moral duty to stop it in its tracks."

Leonardo's nobility was only seconded by Raphael's cynical scoff. Leo ranting righteously on their duty to protect the city? How typical…Although he did speak the truth. This was what they were here for, after all; bustin' bad guys, doin' what's right, providing justice for the citizens of this crime-filled and fleabag-ridden city.

He just didn't have to be so "gung-hoe" about it.

"Alright Leo, alright. Cool yer chops. We get the picture. Just call me when it's "patrollin'" time, alright?"

There was silence as the red banded turtle just simply turned away from his brothers and stalked, somewhat heatedly, out of the room. A few moments later the unmistakable sound of a punching bag being flailed repeatedly resonated from the opened locale of the dojo.

"Man, this is all really eating him up, isn't it?" Michelangelo nearly whistled, finally breaking the heavy silence that seemed to fall on the room since his brother's departure. However, just as quickly as his speech had started, it continued unmercifully. "Well, this has been heaps of fun. I'm sure that we'll catch the bad guy, whoever he is! But right now, I think a classic game of Donkey Kong Country 2 is calling my name. So if you'll excuse me…"

Leonardo and Donatello exchanged glances as their almost painfully lively brother, sidestepped the both of them before also heading through the gaping doorway towards freedom.

However, Michelangelo knew what was next to come…

"Mikey, you know if you need someone to talk to we're her-"

He quickly evaded the upcoming assertion by hurriedly disappearing through the doorway just in time to miss the rest of Donatello's inept statement. Oh well, he didn't feel like hearing what his brothers had to say right now anyways. He already knew what their issue would be. And to tell the truth, he really wasn't up for dealing with their worrying ways right now.

He was fine.

He was perfectly fine.

'Sure…'perfectly fine.' If you're so 'fine,' then why did you stay up all night with the sheets at your neck? Why were you jumping in fear at every little noise and creak?'

Walking through the lair, Mikey curtly ignored the doubts and thoughts that floated through his own head. With no more than a grunt he snatched up the Game Boy Advanced from the wooden coffee table. Turning on the game, Michelangelo sat in the den's old but comfy couch and in response it allowed him to sink easily into its cushions. Putting up his feet, he waited for the game to run through the beginning credits. However and despite his efforts to silence the voice in the back of his mind, it still rung out, sending pangs of suppressed anger and discontent through his self-made wall of pitilessness.

'Why won't you just tell them? You were scared last night. Really scared. Maybe talking to Donny isn't such a bad ide-'

"No! I am not a little kid anymore, and I will not let them treat me like one. I am fine!"

His voice was no more than a harsh whisper against that of the gaming system. Nevertheless, his mind continued in its badger, and in response Michelangelo grated his teeth in frustration.

'You most definitely are not! The things you saw last night disturbed you more than anything in your life! You can't get over this alone. You need help-.'

"I am FINE!"

His explanation cut through the den like a knife.

He froze, half in shock at the power of his own voice, and half in fear that he was actually heard by the others. Nosey brothers busting in on him while he was trying to relax was the last thing he needed. Therefore, as quickly as it had happened, he promptly turned down the game and paused, partially turning to eye the entryway to the den. He kept his ears keen, listening for any disturbances that would be one of his brothers coming in to investigate the exclamation. However, and after a few moments of nothing, Michelangelo finally sighed. There would be no intrusions today, or at least, not at that moment. He was free to play his game in peace and without consequence.

Turning back to his game boy, Michelangelo worked at the inside of his cheek.

Nevertheless, his mind continued to disobey him, flowing right back to the thing that he had been trying so hard to get out of his mind…

'…Poor Danielle. Poor, poor Danielle…'

Michelangelo gritted his teeth for the second time in the same number of minutes as he fought the images, attempting to override them with the giant monkey on the screen.

But they still came.

Like horrific slide projections the images obscured his mind and vision, freezing him in his place, just like last night.

'No…'

He nearly moaned. No, not again.

In an instant he was right back at the crime scene once again. However, this time, he was completely alone. It was just him…and the body.

'No!'

This time though, and like all the other times he came back here, he was completely incapable of looking away. He couldn't stop it; he could not stop his eyes for seeing what he saw. Not even if he closed them.

The visions still came, the visions from inside of his own mind.

The membrane shimmered almost brilliantly in the bright moon-illuminated alleyway as did the pale white skin underneath. The pale…unbroken skin.

She was alive…

Beautiful dark hair ran down her curdled up naked body, her frame thin but still quite beautiful. Her face was away from him as she continued to sleep. He distinctly saw the rise and fall of her back as she breathed, despite the thick coat of the membrane around her. Yes, as it was, that seemed to be the only thing truly wrong with the picture before him. The Membrane. She was alive…but still was trapped inside the thick cocoon of a membrane.

Michelangelo suddenly felt himself take a step closer to the sleeping beauty and in response a bright multi-colored sheen spread across the jell-like substance as a reflection of the moonlight's journey in his eyes. And still she continued to sleep, her breathing natural despite the awkwardness of where she slept.

She was natural, curled up in the fetal position. Pure and true, like an angel…

Finally he closed the distance between himself and the curled up angel, but still he could not see her face. Well that was no matter; he already knew what she looked like. The face of the missing Danielle Dresden flashed across his eyes, instantly obscuring the vision of the alleyway and the girl itself, but almost as soon as it had come, it had gone, and everything was brought back to normal.

Just him and the girl.

Still, he knew something was not right. She should not be here, sleeping…not like this.

Before he knew what was happening, his own hand reached out, his whole palm patting the cool dark surface of the dark covering.

Just as effortlessly, he brought it back. His palm came away black.

"Wake up…Danielle wake up…"

His voice was like a wind to him, a wind of just air that seeped past his mouth. Nothing more. It wasn't real.

His voice, it wasn't real…

A sudden crash sounded through the alleyway. His head snapped to attention just in time to watch the same black cat from before jump from one trash can to another in search of a decent meal. He watched as the cat moved closer and closer before ceasing his search entirely at the sight of the coated beauty.

"Don't you dare!"

The air of his voice hissed, but as it was, the cat curtly paid him no mind as he closed the distance between him and the newest supplement for his empty stomach. Michelangelo looked on helplessly and the cat began to nibble through the jelly-like cocoon of the pale sleeping angel. But still, she did not stir.

That was it. She should not be here. Not here, and not like this…

"Danielle, wake up. Time for me to take you home…"

His voice was even more of a whispered wind then before but by then, he did not care. He had to get her out of there.

Again he reached out, but before he could close the distance the cat suddenly hissed, it's back arching in anger before turning tale and bolting off. And for good reason. The finger he had been licking at…moved.

'Wha-'

Michelangelo blinked. Did he see what he thought he saw?

And almost as a response to his question, it moved again…and again…and again.

"She's alive. She's Alive!'

"Danielle. Here. Come with me-"

With a sudden lunge, Michelangelo grabbed the hand of the deceased Danielle Dresden and as a result it promptly released itself from the membrane before coming away in his grasp altogether…

"…AHh!"

He shot the appendage away from him and watched it as it bounced away and into the night. Right where he stood he began to moan, his stifled sobs echoing in the alleyway as he attempted to wipe the vision from his mind by wiping his hand on his thigh. He shuffled from foot to foot as he sobbed harsh despaired body-racking sobs, that he could no longer control. There was nothing he could do. She was already dead.

No, she was murdered.

'…Poor Danielle. Poor, poor Danielle…'

Right before his very eyes the scene changed, mutating into his greatest fear. But he knew it could not be stopped, no matter how much it hurt him to see it play out once again. The pale back under the membrane peeled away until it was nothing more than just bone and flesh and what could have been intestine seeping out from her, just like they had found her that night. Dark hair still ran down her back, but instead of being pure and clean like it was only moments earlier, it was now matted and caked in blood. Some of it even found itself pressed into the wounds of her body. Around her frame her arms and legs were caked in blood as well. Other than that, no other part of her body was even remotely recognizable or even there, and for that Michelangelo promptly vomited.

It was thick and black and it traveled from his stomach to the ground, and in response Michelangelo's sobs racked his frame even more. He trembled from his perch, his hands on his knees as he supported his own unstable weight before slowly reaching up and clutching the shell of his stomach in despair.

'No…' He moaned, looking through his tear streaked vision at the body that was now the deceased missing girl. But like the seed of his own worst nightmares the head of the girl suddenly turned, finally revealing the empty and mangled space that was once her beautiful face but that was now just nothingness. The face of the dead.

"Yes." She hissed through lips that just were not there or that just did not exist.

Michelangelo promptly shot up in the couch, the Game Boy Advanced flying from his stunned fingers to the floor. Breathing heavily, he wiped at his face in an attempt the wipe the visions from his mind. Nevertheless, his hand came away wet.

He had been sleeping.

It was all a dream.

And he had been crying in his sleep.

This was not the first time he'd had this dream. All night it seemed, every time he was finally able to drift to sleep, the dream repeated itself…Each and every time.

'Now do you think you should tell the others?'

He didn't even remember falling asleep, but he had, and just like the night before the visions haunted him, even in the light of day.

Harshly, he wiped the offending tears from his face as he stood. Just as angrily, he snatched up the Game Boy from the ground, only to realize that he had long since lost all of his lives in his slumber and cursed.

Flipping the game closed, Michelangelo sat back onto the couch, his head back and his eyes closed. His hands found his face, of which he moaned into.

If he was not a baby, then why was he action like one? No, he would not be the baby now, crawling to his brothers at the first sign of anything that wasn't happy-go-lucky. No, not this time.

"Come on Mikey, come on buddy. You can handle this, dude. You can-"

Michelangelo opened his eyes in his hands, but choose to cut short his own words of encouragement, suddenly baffled by his darkened vision.

His hand…

Pulling his hands away from his face he eyed the palm of his left hand, of which, despite his many attempts at cleaning it, was still completely darkened from the night before. That dark stuff, that dark goop he had touched so eagerly in the beginning now stained his hand midnight black. His face contoured. Shaking, his hand closed into a dark green angered fist.

He would avenge Danielle's death, if it was the last thing he did, facing the fear of the unknown that tormented his sleep and now, his consciousness.

Both fists shook now, his whole body quivering as he screwed his eyes shut in suppressed rage and complete frustration.

He would face that guy, the cold blooded murder, and punish him for the torment he put her through. He would kill him, for what he did.

Tears fell from his closed eyes to the coffee table below, but he did not notice.

He was not a little kid anymore and it was time to put childish fears and thoughts aside.

He would kill him, just like he killed her. Even if it was the last thing he did.

Lots more to come…R and R