CHAPTER NINE
The Rat King couldn't help but feel proud of the police waiting outside for him. Whoever was in charge of them knew exactly what to say and how to pander to his exact needs. Were this any other kind of situation, he might even entertain the idea of compliance. The safety of the children for the survival of what was, in his mind, the superior species.
But things hadn't quite worked out that way.
Instead, when he took over the orphanage, overpowered and tied up what remained of the staff, and used his unique communication skills to rally up all the rats in the building, he stumbled across a unique range of reactions from the children.
Some were clearly frightened, and those that were huddled together in a tight circle, a few of the females standing atop chairs, while the rats simply looked up at them, curiosity their only real intent, but the fear of what they could do keeping the girls anchored to the spot.
Others, in particular the males, gravitated to his presence, taken in by how "cool" he was. Examining some of the rooms, the Rat King had even found that some of the children had even been secretly keeping some of the rats as pets and nourishing them, even putting them in small cages with female types so they could continue to breed.
So impressed was the Rat King that he elected not to make things too simple for himself, nothing so cut-and-dry as taking the rats from the building and building his kingdom up from scratch. This represented a different type of opportunity for him.
He would gather those that were not fazed by him or his subjects, he would sit them down, and he would tell them stories. Stories that gave them inspiration and interest in the world that slipped so far beneath the gaze of surface dwellers, and he hoped that, with such insight and inspiration, they would make something of their lives in their adult years, devoting their time to his favourite type of creature, and giving them greater control and dominion of the land above.
He began with the story of his prison escape, keeping the kids current with the news. It seemed to work, as many faces were alight with interest and were wowed by the "cool" factor of how resourceful the rat situated on his shoulder was in assisting the break-out.
"Tell another story Mr. King" echoed an ecstatic voice. The Rat King was surprised to find it was female, who was taking the time to pet some of the surrounding rats.
"Perhaps defying convention IS the mandate of the day" The Rat King expressed, and chose to share with them something different,
"What better way to convey that than to submit for your approval, the tale of the beast in the machine. When I was first beginning to build my kingdom, I made the mistake of assuming my subjects were not all equal...that they were of two distinct groups, the strong, and the weak. I punished those that were feeble and found it hard to keep up by feeding them to small white robotic creatures I had fished out of the remains of some derelict mansion uptown.
One day, I put one of these perceived failings in the belly of the machine. I didn't pay it any mind, that is, until a few days later, where I found the creature split wide open, with a gaping hole inside of it, and the rat back amongst the pack, evident by the mesh of wiring still fresh in its teeth and which coated whole areas of it's body. Against all odds, it had chewed and clawed what was thought to be impenetrable and impossible to slip out of. It was designed as the perfect prison, and on this occasion, it had failed. It is then that I realized that, while there was the strong, and there was the weak, there was also a third distinct group I had overlooked: The adaptable.
From then on, I deemed my subjects all equal in stature, for they could rise to the occasion at any given opportunity. This is the lesson I give to you, be you of weak mind or ill heart, when you are taken in by a prison of any kind, trapped in either the machine supplied by society or one supplied by your lack of confidence and lack of vision, don't just trust your reliable instincts and the old ways, change the game, defy convention, and sharpen new skills, for we all learn every day, and the lessons learned will shape whatever kingdom you desire"
The children gave him a standing ovation for the stirring story, and demanded another.
However, before The Rat King could indulge them further, everyone suddenly allowed silence to overtake them, all so they could pick up further on some faint commotion coming from above them. Slight grunts and faint insults as what sounded like two people squabbling amongst themselves got louder and louder
"You're standing on my head" came one voice.
"Better that than your sai, did you have to take that out before you climbed in?" asked another
"What is this defiance?" The Rat King bellowed, "Who dares disrupt me when I am entertaining my court?"
The answer came to him in a crumpled heap as Michelangelo and Raphael finally lost their footing and came crashing down the chimney and out of the fireplace in the centre of the room.
The kids all began laughing at the sight as the two turtles rolled over on top of each other before hastily springing to their feet and trying to cut an unconvincing action pose in front of the huddled group.
"Alright, that wasn't fun, but we're all about business today anyway" Raphael said, dusting himself off.
Michelangelo examined himself, his costume was covered in soot.
"Look at the state of me dude, this dirty look is going to get me nothing but dirty looks at the Ice rink" Michelangelo said.
"Turtles" The Rat King said.
Raphael sarcastically bowed, "We live to serve my liege...,in your case to serve you time"
"Are you little rascals ok?" Raphael asked of the frightened girls huddled on the chair. They nodded.
One of the braver kids, not happy with the intrusion, walked over to Raphael and stomped on his foot.
"Go away, Mr. King is telling us stories, he's not hurting anyone" the kid said in defence of his captor. Raphael hopped about for a bit in pain, "Oh yeah, I can tell his storytelling has really left an impact on me" he replied.
"We've got a few stories that'll easily surpass anything he's been telling you little dude, starting with the tale of how we cleaned his clock today" Michelangelo said, and he tried to approach the Rat King, twirling his nun-chucks around.
However, one of the rats began to chew away at the back of his cape, which sent him reeling back. The distraction allowed The Rat King the chance to take out a laser gun and aim it at the helpless Turtle and opened fire, but Raphael was able to tackle Michelangelo, which in turn caused part of his cape to tear away from the grip of the rat's teeth, splitting it into two halves.
"I'm really starting to look the part aren't I?" Michelangelo said as he looked at the tattered remnants of his cape. Raphael quickly got him up as The Rat King's gun fired another shot. They ducked out of the way and cornered him from left to right, the rats scurrying over the pair of them as they did so, trying to protect their master, nibbling slightly at their eyes.
"Hey, I'm meant to be green and orange, not black and blue" Michelangelo replied, tearing the rats away from his face.
"We've gotta get clear of these furry fritters, they're making it impossible to kick the King off his throne" Raphael replied, throwing a few off of him
"My kingdom rallies to my defence, what can the two of you possibly do against thousands of four legged soldiers?" The Rat King uttered, raising his weapon and waiting until the creatures had managed to position the panicked pairing of Turtles in the middle of the hall, allowing him a clear cut shot that would render both of them helpless.
Suddenly, he found his moment interrupted by the little girl who had been brave enough to surround herself with the rats, the one that had encouraged him to tell the children another story. She stood in front of the two Turtles with her arms spread
"Please Mr. King, don't hurt them, it's Christmas" she said.
"Get out of the way kid" Raphael cried out
"Yeah, when that guy sets out to cut through someone, he doesn't care who's on the floor" Michelangelo added
"Out of the way youngling" The Rat King said, his finger squeezing down hard on the trigger. The girl remained where she was, anchored to the spot.
The tension mounted, the Rat King's trigger-finger trembled, the Turtles continued to struggle against the teeming hordes of rodents, unable to do anything to take the child out of harms' way.
Finally, when all seemed ideal, The Rat King sighed and relented, and tossed the gun away.
"Give them safe passage" he whispered. At this command, the rats ceased their attack on the two Turtles and swarmed around him.
The Rat King tore open the carpet beneath him, revealing the wooden floorboard, he pulled open one of the planks, and instructed the rats to pour down it.
The Turtles saw their opportunity to nab their foe and moved in, but the girl suddenly opted to shield him this time, "Like we were saying, he didn't harm us, he just told a story...he gave us a gift" she said.
"What gift was that?" Raphael asked
"What better gift than one of knowledge?" The Rat King replied, and, as soon as the last rat went under the board, he put up his hands in surrender, "And in turn, their patience, their tolerance, and their bravery taught me to no longer take an old saying for granted: Suffer not the children"
Michelangelo tied his grappling hook rope over The Rat King's hands whilst Raphael took freeing the helpless staff members.
Eventually the barricade blocking the door was lifted, enabling the Turtles to walk out of the building with their prisoner in tow. The cops ran over to them and took The Rat King into custody. As he was led away, several of the kids accompanied him, telling any officer who listened how he hadn't been a threat and he shouldn't be treated like a rat in a cage.
"I return to the belly of the beast, a prisoner of the machine...but remember what I told you my younglings...adaptability is a key of life, there are no groups, we are all of equal mind, and working within that mind, we will all become a pack" he said. The officers mocked his stirring speech by circularly moving their fingers near their temples. indicating he was "cuckoo"
As the car carrying The Rat King drove off, Barrette approached the Turtles. "Congratulations guys, we owe you for this, that must of been one hell of a fight "
"Hey, we didn't lift a finger except to rattle off the rats biting them" Raphael said, "Sometimes you just have to put it down to the good old spirit of the holidays"
"Amen dude, I just hope everyone at the rink is totally tubuloso in spirit to look past my appearance" Michelangelo remarked, again referring to the tattered, coal-ridden remnants of his phantom outfit.
"I suppose being dressed like a phantom is the biggest reason you're making such an opera out of this" Raphael said.
