New chapter! Disclaimer: I don't own Ninja Turtles
It's been a month since I first joined this gang, and now I'm almost like a legend here. Not only do I have a new rep of being the comedian but a skilled fighter and shooter (thanks to Bishop) – the best one out of the Turks and Janko's previous Turk gang before they turned on him. People whom I don't know but belong to the same gang as me are beginning to know my name, and I'm starting to be known by a few Purple Dragons – are rival gang. I actually might rise to a fully fledged member quicker than any one else. For once in my life, I feel like I'm somebody.
Not only that, but the feel of committing crimes – the adrenaline rush – is fun and exciting. The only crimes we've been committing were robbery of banks and gun stores and participating on the black market for guns. Basically, crimes to help rebuild Janko's gun empire, and no one gets hurt in these crimes. Anyway, the adrenaline rush of trying to get what you want while not being caught feels so good. It's like a mental obstacle course. It keeps me on the edge, trying to figure out how to stay hidden against high tech security equipment, and now that I'm known for my fighting and shooting skills, I'm used in more difficult tasks of the theft operation.
And now, we're on a mission. Some Purple Dragon has been invading our turf and steeling our money. We have to steel it back. Jet said that the Purple Dragon usually likes to hang out around this corner. He is described as five feet tall with a semi-buzz cut hairstyle with red hair, and his dragon tattoo is wrapped around his right arm. Now we're hunting him down. I can feel the adrenaline rush. Janko specifically chose me after Shark vouched for me. I was a great fighter and once fought off four Purple Dragons. If I succeed, I will be even closer to being a Turk.
We stop and see a guy, fitting Jet's description of the Purple Dragon, standing on the corner of two roads where Jet told us. It looks like he's waiting for a drug dealer or something.
"That's him," Jet says coolly.
"Alright then," Shark says. Then he turns to me. "You ready to go, Mike?"
I was shaking with excitement. I really wanted to sneak past this guy and search for his secret hide-out where he was keeping our money. "Yup!" I said.
"Alright then," Shark says and throws me a knife. I catch it and inspect it. We're sneaking past this guy. Why do we need a knife?
"What's this for?" I asked Shark.
"That is a knife. You're gonna use it to threaten that guy with in order to get back our money," Shark explained.
My blood ran cold. We weren't gonna sneak past this guy and raid his hide-out, we were gonna jump him. Not only that, but threaten to kill him. Suddenly, I didn't want to do this. I don't even think I could do this.
Hot Shot noticed my hesitation. "Come on, Mike, you ain't chicken, are you?"
"No," I sputter out. "Just surprise, that's all."
Then Shark said, "You been just doing robberies when no one was around. You proved that you could do that. Now you need to prove that you don't mind hurting people for the sake of our gang. Think you could do that?"
"Ummm? Sure. I guess," I lied. Truth was, I don't think I can.
Jet saw what I was really thinking. "Come one, kid? Do you wanna be a part of a gang or not? Don't you want that name for yourself or not?"
I quickly put on a brave front. "Hell, I want that name."
"Then go and jump that guy!" Jet nearly shouted in agitation.
I sighed. There was no way I was getting out of this. I slowly walked up to the guy, hoping to sneak around behind his back and hold the knife to his throat. The blackness of the night will give me cover. I took one look back at Hot Shot, Shark, Jet, and Sting Ray. I particularly honed in on Sting Ray's facial expression and was surprised to see empathy. He knew what I was going through inside my mind and cared. He had been through this before.
With the knife in my right hand, I quietly stalked over to the lone Purple Dragon. I felt like a cat, but inside myself, I felt like an ocean during a hurricane. All the crimes I've committed involved no innocent people getting hurt. Actually, no one – innocent or guilty – got hurt. Now, I'm about to threaten this guy's life. He never did anything bad to me. He stole, but is it worth threatening his life over? However, I need to prove myself to the Turks that I got what it takes to be one of them. I almost have a name for myself. I need it to be forever a part of me. I need to be somebody. But at what cost?
I snuck up behind this guy, and like what Bishop taught me before, I covered his mouth with one hand and used my other hand to push the knife up to his throat. His eyes were wild with fear and surprise. I was about to say something threatening to scare him into giving back what he stole from us, but no words came out. They didn't need to. Jet, Shark, Hot Shot, and Sting Ray emerged from the shadows and surrounded this guy like a pack of wolves surrounding a moose.
"We know what you did, you son of a bitch," Jet said with killer calm while his eyes spoke murder.
"You've been stealing money from our gang, you punk. Now fork it over," Hot Shot said accusingly.
The Purple Dragon mumbled something. I uncovered his mouth while still keeping a tight hold on him and a blade still touching his throat. The Purple Dragon's eyes narrowed as he said, "I ain't givin' you Turks anything." Then he spit in Hot Shot's face.
Hot Shot wiped the spit off his face. "Oh you're so gonna get it, dude!" Then Hot Shot punched the Purple Dragon hard in the stomach, and I almost lost hold of him as he reeled over from the impact.
Then Jet said, "If you don't give us back what you stole, we'll have our friend here slit your throat." My eyes went wide, and I mentally begged, Please, Jet, don't make me kill him. I don't think I have what it takes to commit murder. I knew Jet was serious, and I hoped that the Purple Dragon complied – for his sake and for my sake.
Still, to make a point in hopes that the Purple Dragon will comply, I pressed the blade closer to his throat. Bloody began to trickle down, and I start to grow sick. Unfortunately, the Purple Dragon didn't comply, as he wrestled out of my grip. "Get him!" Jet screamed, and we chased after him. He didn't run far, and Jet was the first to jump on him and wrestle him to the ground. Hot Shot, Shark, and Sting Ray helped pinned him to the ground. I just numbly watched. Jet saw me, and shouted, "Mike, give him a squealer's scar!"
A squealer's scar isn't lethal. It's a scar from your ear to your mouth. I didn't want to hurt him, but it's better than killing him. I numbly walked over and knelt down by his head. Jet held his head steady while I gave him the scar. He screamed in pain (which is the reason why a squealer's scar is called a squealer's scar), and my blood froze up, and bile began to rise. I hurt a human being not out of self defense, which is totally fine by me, but out of greed. I can't believe I did that. I want to throw up.
The Jet threatened the Purple Dragon, "If you don't fork over the money, that scar will be a slit on your throat." I could see the terror in the Purple Dragon's eyes. I wanted to shout at Jet to stop it, to let him go, but I couldn't. I didn't know what to say. And I was afraid.
Thank God, that this time the Purple Dragon listened, and begged, "Okay, okay. I'll give you your money back. Please don't kill me."
Shark, Sting Ray (whose face looked saddened), and Hot Shot got off of the purple Dragon. Jet released his head but sat on the guy as he tried to dig through his pockets for our cash. I just watched. Finally, he pulled out a wad of cash. "It's all the money I got. The rest I spent on drugs. Honest!" he begged.
Jet looked skeptical and counted one hundred dollars. He was silent for five minutes, and then he said, "You swear you don't have an more of our cash?"
"I swear, dude!" he said.
"Alright," Jet said, as he got up. "If we ever catch you stealin' our money, we seriously will kill you.
"Okay, dude," the Purple Dragon said and then ran away.
"Alright, we did it!" Hot Shot celebrated.
"Let's go tell Janko that we won't be seein' him around," Shark said, "and oh, Mike, nice job on threatening that son of a bitch with a knife and giving him the scar. Thanks to you, we got back what was stolen. Janko will be thrilled when he hears about this."
"Thanks," I muttered even though I didn't mean it. Everyone was in a celebratory mood, except Sting Ray who looked despondent. I wasn't in a celebratory mood. I felt lower than dirt. I no longer felt like the self I was becoming, and my newly discovered world was crashing down on me.
And I don't know if I could survive the crash.
Mikey threatened a defenseless person with a knife and cut him up. Something that goes against what he was taught, but he doesn't remember, but he's starting to get his sense of morals back. So what will Mikey's future hold? Will he still want to join the Turks or will he want to leave? Only I know.