Hey all! I was not so happy with my first attempt at a NT fic so I decided it might be a good idea to redeem myself with something a little more in depth. And here you have it! The rating will more then likely change after this to R so those of you who are interested and start worrying when you cant find it…just select "all" in the ratings category! Also this is a bit of a mix from mostly the first two movies and I added a few touches from the new cartoon here and there. Had to have the ninja bike! I'm a sucker for those! But mostly it's based on the movies. Thank you and as always, enjoy!
Heavenly Prophecy
Midnight came as dark as ever, the skies the blackest anyone had seen in a long time, the brilliant stars concealed by angry clouds, choked out of existence by billowing smoke that rose in a thick column from a bonfire burning in a field miles away from civilization. On this night the air was laden with the stench of death. Those who did live near by, country folk residing in small, ramshackle homes with leaking roofs, will claim to this day that they could smell fear-even taste it.
It was in this field, with the massive fire burning away like the pits of Hell, that a woman stood tied to a post, her elegant face pale and streaked with tears, her wild blue eyes watching the eight cloaked figures circling the blazing bon fire slowly, methodically as they chanted, their faces hid in the shadows of their sagging hoods. They were death. More specifically-they were her death. But she had known from the moment she had married, from the moment that marriage was consummated and she had become pregnant that this day would come just as it had come for her mother, a woman she had only known for the briefest amount of time. Yet part of her had dared to hope, had dared to dream of a life that was normal. She should have known better. Now she was paying for her foolishness.
Her husband, a handsome man in his mid 30's with chiseled features, broad shoulders and laughing hazel eyes was no more, killed mercilessly by the figures now chanting to the fire before her. She would soon join him, but that thought gave her no pleasure for she was leaving behind the one thing she cherished most next to the man she had loved. Her eyes darted to a raised dais built crudely out of wood and a keening moan escaped her lips. God, her daughter. The one small life that would come out of this horrible night. The one small life she would never hold, never rock to sleep, never kiss the downy hair that covered her small head ever again.
Fresh tears stung her eyes and rushed to join the others on her cheeks. She had to hold it together. She would not die this way! She was no coward and although that one part of her had dared to hope for something different, there was the logical part of her that had started to prepare for this day with the determination of a military sergeant. If she was going to die then it would be with honor.
Suddenly the chanting stopped and six of the men moved towards her. They looked like sinister ghosts shrouded in black sheets, floating rather then walking across the ground to her. She did not struggle. She did not cry out. She merely waited for her fate.
Two of the other men picked up carved bowls from the ground next to the dais and moved in position behind the others, their heads bowed low. A slicing noise cut into the air and as a blade was pulled from the folds of one of the mans robes. He held it up and very softly the chanting started once again.
The mother stared at the men with pure hatred. Her lips moved and an incantation spilled from her mouth, the words pouring out on top of one another in her haste. She would leave her mark upon this world and she would leave it with her daughter, making her far more superior in strength then she had been. Maybe then she would have a chance; she would be able to live without fear.
Too involved in the task at hand, the cloaked men did not notice the light that flashed briefly around the infant; they did not notice the sadistic smile that curved the mother's lips as she faced them. And when the time came they did not notice that the mother's smile remained, fixed on her face, giving her a somewhat peaceful expressing despite the fact that she had been run through with the lethal blade and was now dying.
As the last breath left her, shuddering from her lungs in a futile protest, the two men with the bowls collected her blood. It would be needed to mark the child, to pass on the destiny of the mother to her babe. The prophecy would be fulfilled and they would be the ones to see to it.
The child was marked with her mother's life force. She screamed the entire time, shrill wails that rose up into the night striking fear into even the cruelest beasts of the surrounding forests. That night, when the skies were as dark as they had ever been and the stench of death clung to everything a Prophecy was born.
Halfway around the world where the skies were sparkling a pristine blue and people walked the streets of New York City, unaware of the horrors that were taking place with the small child so far away, four pet turtles were released from their captivity when their young keeper was pushed by a man and accidentally dropped the large glass jar he was carrying them in. They were swept down the street and into the sewers, landing unceremoniously in a puddle of glowing green goo that would later be found out to be a very strong and unique mutegen.
The Prophecy's saviors were born.