Hello to all who is reading this right now. Although I am new to I have been reading stories here ever since the site has gone up. I'm not new to writing or even writing fanfictions. I've been doing this on and off for years, but laziness and writer's block kept me from starting or finishing anything. Till now…

As for a disclaimer…

C'mon people, of course we don't own anything here. That is why it is called fan fiction for a reason. This will be the only time I put up a disclaimer for any of my fan fiction work unless I otherwise felt it is needed…

I apologize for the pathetic first chapter, they are always hard to write, but it'll get better as the story goes on, promise.

Now, enough of my ramblings, on with the show!

Chapter 1

The Replacement-Calling

A lone mutant turtle limped into a dark alleyway, very dark as it was extremely late at night and there were no lit windows to illuminate his path, he was all alone…

He was looking for shelter so he can rest his tired, aching, and very bruised body. Every step he took was more painful than the last. Even the katanas strapped to his back seemed to be a heavy burden to him, weighing him down…

Burdens…

It was all he seemed to be carrying ever since he came back from home. Ever since he watched his father die right before his very eyes. Ever since the curse developed on his right hand like an infected sore…

And ever since then he has been wandering around like a crazed nomad, going from place to place but never finding a permanent home. He was searching, searching for anything and everything that can help elevate the physical and emotional pain he was going through. He looked down at his cursed hand, covered and tied down with sacred beads to hold it all in place. Yes, he realized, the sore spot did hurt him, like any good curse does. Along with the pain came the nerve racking fear because he knew that eventually the curse will kill him too, just like his beloved father…

The turtle stopped walking and leaned his weary body against the wall. He was tired, so tired. Tired of walking without a purpose, tired of thinking about how the curse fell upon him, tired of just living a life that has done nothing but make him miserable. His strong shoulders started to heave up and down as sudden dry, racking sobs overcame his weak body. No tears came out though, he had no more left to use. His father's funeral and his depression made him dry out. He had no tears, no home, no family, nothing.

It was time…

Time to do something he should have done a long time ago. Before he got all caught up in a bad lifestyle that led up to all this. He hated to do it, all he wanted to do was live, but he had no choice now…

He pulled out a katana with a shaky hand. He had to take a couple of deep breaths before positioning the tip of the blade on his chest. He was going to restore some long lost honor to his broken family, it was all he could do for them now. True, it was a not as formal a ceremony as a proper ninja like himself should do, but considering his environment, it would have to do. Besides, if he was going to die from the curse eventually, he should save the time and effort and just do it now

With his face locked, set and determined, he made ready to kill himself. The only image that was going through his mind was the one woman he ever really loved, who stood by him all these years and now was going to leave alone. He looked heavenward, pleading whatever god or goddess that was out there to please forgive him. With a final deep breath, he pulled back on the sword, ready to plunge it into himself.

As he was doing so, a sudden, strong gust of wind from behind stopped him. He jerked back suddenly, ready to fight whomever was getting in his way, but found that there was nothing but a brick wall. Confused, he turned around, unsure of what to do next when the wind blew again, this time rattling a loose manhole cover to his left. He looked at it suspiciously for a moment, hesitant to do anything just yet, but strangely enough it was beckoning him to look beneath. Cautiously, he went over and lifted the lid, only to be greeted by a strong smell of sewage. He twisted his beak up is disgust, sewers were never his thing, he never liked to even take out the garbage when he was younger, it disgusted him too much. Nonetheless, after the initial smell went away, he peered down again, wondering what was in there. After a moments thought, he jumped down letting go of the lid behind him to close the opening.