Yon
Running. That's all he could do was keep running. Running away from the madness; running away from nightmares; running away from the demons; running away from…
"Mikey!"
…his family…
Michelangelo suddenly felt his legs give out, and he fell to the ground on all fours. He panted; even when it was cold, sweat streamed down his face.
He couldn't do this; he couldn't leave his family when all they wanted to do was help him. But the nightmares…he was so scared of sleeping, so scared of eating…
"Mikey! Mikey where are you!"
The call from his brothers…Michelangelo needed them just as much as they needed him. But he was terrified; he did not want to die from that horrible…thing…
He wanted it to stop. All he wanted was peace…with his family…
"Mikey! Damnit…Where are you!"
Michelangelo felt tears begin to stream down his face. He sobbed, "DONNIE! RAPH! LEO!" He stood up and looked around for his brothers.
It was getting dark now; and a fog was rolling in. He could feel the air around him getting colder by the minute. Visibility was worthless; he could see nothing around him. Michelangelo shook with cold when slowly taking a step forward and looking around.
He could feel his heart pounding with fear and panic. He shivered, "Raph?" he called, "Leo? Donnie?"
"Mikey!" he heard his brother's call; it sounded like Donatello.
Michelangelo smiled with hope, "Donnie!" he ran into the direction of his brother's voice. "Donnie! Donnie!" he called, running threw the foggy night.
"Mikey?"
"I'm here, Donnie!" he shouted, "I'm over here!"
As he ran, Michelangelo did not notice the fog becoming thicker. The air was becoming colder and the wind getting stronger. The orange masked turtle kept on running, hope in his heart that he will find his brothers.
It was not until he heard the splashing of liquid that Michelangelo stopped. He felt the cold liquid around his legs ooze down his skin; it made his skin shiver with disgust. His heart began to pound as he looked down to the earth below his feet. He began to pant when reaching down and swiping the liquid from his legs.
Michelangelo brought his wet fingers to his beak, and sniffed the wet substance. It smelled like iron, it felt dry and sticky as he rubbed it between his fingers. He recognized the feel and the smell all too well.
His eyes widened with shock, "Bl…blo…blood!"
It was spilt everywhere; a stream of it lead straight into the forest, disappearing into the foggy night. Michelangelo's body shook harder with fear and panic, "D-donnie…?" he mumbled, "…help…"
The sound of large footsteps came into range; Michelangelo stood with his body shaking heavily. He did not want to turn around to face whatever was behind him. However, curiosity got the better of him.
Michelangelo turned his head slowly, his body following shakily behind. Once getting full view, the orange masked turtle gasped with terror. The bloodied demon stood face-to-face with Michelangelo; its fangs inches away from his head. It stared down at him with lifeless eyes; blood trickled down its skeletal body.
Michelangelo stared into the depths of the empty eye-sockets, blood gushing out as well. He could not move, his body was stiff with cold and fear. He wanted to scream, but he could not find his voice. Small droplets of sweat ran down Michelangelo's face along with his tears.
The demon gave a low growl, lifting up its boney arm and expanding its claws. Michelangelo shivered, watching the demons arm move so ever closer. Suddenly, in a quick slash, the demon grabbed Michelangelo by the shoulder. The orange masked turtle screamed with pain as he felt the demon's claws digging into his flesh.
The demon brought Michelangelo up high, allowing the blood from his wound to stream down his body. The demon opened his mouth and drank from the dripping blood; its fangs glimmered with the crimson red liquid.
Michelangelo could feel his body getting weak; the lack of blood was making everything around him hazy. But he could still see the demon clearly.
The demon suddenly brought him face-to-face again; it stared into Michelangelo's heavy and tired eyes. It growled louder; the shriek of its voice made the orange masked turtle wince. It opened up its mouth; the fangs dripping with blood, and brought Michelangelo slowly in.
"MIKEY!"
Before the demon could react, Raphael attacked with a swift kick to the demons rib cage. The demon howled with what seemed to be pain and dropped Michelangelo. The orange masked turtle fell to the ground in a puddle of blood.
The demon growled, regaining its composure and turned to Raphael, who was accompanied with Leonardo and Donatello. Leonardo looked towards Michelangelo, his eyes widened with worry, "Mikey! No!"
The demon roared and attacked with fierce claws; the three turtles jumped, dodging the rage of the bloodthirsty demon. They landed behind the demon, weapons drawn and ready to fight. The demon backed up, looking over what it was challenging.
It seemed to be studying its opponents, and with rage found that it could not be victorious. The demon roared with a loud shriek; the three turtles covered their ears in pain. It soon died down, and the demon ran off into the darkness of the forest, leaving a trail of bloody footprints.
Raphael watched it go and withdrew his sai; Leonardo and Donatello withdrew their weapons as well and quickly came to their baby brother's aid. Michelangelo laid on his side in a puddle of blood on the ground; the large gashes on his arm oozed with blood.
Leonardo brought his brother in his arms, "Mikey?" he called, "C'mon Mikey wake up. C'mon."
Nothing.
Leonardo shook his brother a little, "Mikey please wake up," he called, "C'mon Mikey!"
In a soft moan, Michelangelo's eyes opened slowly. He looked up at his brother weakly, seeing Leonardo's relieved expression as well with Raphael and Donatello. He winced at the pain, and could feel tears forming at his eyes.
"L…Leo…" he said, tears streaming down his face.
Leonardo embraced his brother gently, "Shhhhhh…" he soothed, "Take it easy Mikey, we're here."
Michelangelo sobbed, "I…I saw it again…Leo…" he said, "It won't…leave me alone…not even when…I'm awake…" The orange masked turtle continued to cry; he shivered as Leonardo held him close.
Donatello took note to the cold, "We should get him back to the farmhouse now."
Leonardo nodded and picked up Michelangelo, putting him on his back as if giving him a piggyback ride. Michelangelo held onto his brother as Leonardo carried him, making their way back to the farmhouse.
Master Splinter watched as Michelangelo slept with easy breaths in his shared room. His arm was properly stitched and bandaged; a little blood stained there but it did not seep through. The old rat turned to his other three sons; Donatello and Raphael sat on the other bed, Leonardo standing and leaning against the wall.
Master Splinter sighed, "This demon," he said, "it is the same one that Michelangelo describe is it not?"
The three turtles nodded, Donatello spoke out, "Mikey said that, that was the demon in his dreams. But what I want to know is how is it real? I mean I thought he was having those dreams because he was watching too many horror movies. It just doesn't make sense."
"What I want to know is why it wants ta eat Mikey so bad?" Raphael spoke up, crossing his arms.
Master Splinter shook his head, "I do not know," he answered, "This demon is something beyond what I have seen or heard. From what you have described, it feeds off blood to survive. And has the form of a corpse and a beast."
A soft groan emanated from Michelangelo; Master Splinter gently brushed his forehead with his palm, letting his son know that he is safe. Once Michelangelo was in a comfortable sleep again, Master Splinter looked at his other three sons, "We must find a way to stop this wretched demon. But at the moment, comfort Michelangelo and watch over him."
The three turtles nodded their heads, Leonardo stood straight from the wall, "I'll take first watch, Sensei."
Master Splinter nodded, "Very well," he answered, "Raphael, will you be sharing a room with Donatello?"
"Yes Sensei," he said, motioning to Donatello to follow him to the other bedroom.
The old rat watched them leave, and then turning to Leonardo who was already sitting in a chair next to Michelangelo's bed. He smiled, making his way over to Michelangelo; Leonardo let him pass.
Master Splinter leaned over to his youngest son, gently rubbing his arm, "Sleep well my son," he said, receiving a soft grunt from the orange masked turtle. He smiled and turned to Leonardo, "Goodnight Leonardo, sleep well," he said.
Leonardo bowed, "Goodnight Sensei," he answered, returning his respects.
Master Splinter bowed in return, and then made his way out the bedroom door. Leonardo turned back to his baby brother, carefully putting a hand on his wounded shoulder. He watched as he breathed softly, "Dream peacefully, Mikey," he whispered, "I promise you, no matter what, I'll protect you from that thing." With that, Leonardo watched over Michelangelo, until morning.