May 25, 2007
"The killings of the Black Mask Terror have reached an all time high, going into the near teens a night. This spike in killings has shown us just how much crime is in New York City, if the new Spectator of Justice can get so many a night. And she, yes the Black Mask Terror is a she as proven in recent footage, doesn't seem to be slowing down. New weapons have been involved; daggers, a sword, rifles, fists, you name it, the Black Mask Terror is trying it. She appears to be narrowing in on a new gang, these people that look like ninjas. They have an emblem on their chest of a red, a three clawed foot. These badasses, pardon my language but this is so exciting, ninjas in New York? These ninjas seem limitless, and the Black Mask Terror knew about them before the police..."
"It's a disgrace, killing so many people. I have a brother in jail, is the Black Mask Terror going to pop in in the middle of the night and off him too? What about the families of these people? No goodbyes, no trials, the Black Mask Terror doesn't give a damn in the world for the trail of tears she is leaving behind..."
"I think it's cool. This new crime fighter, working against Night Watcher. The new footage of those two fighting, whoa, several times I thought Night Watcher had it... But, ya know, the Black Mask Terror isn't all that bad, really? I mean, come on, she kills the bad. She saves the good. I have a friend who met her, and he said that the Black Mask Terror didn't even glance at him until she was done with the bad guys trying to... uh, hurt him. The Black Mask Terror made sure he could walk, and that he was safely at a busy road before disappearing..."
The TVs were returned to mute until the next story on the Black Mask Terror, perhaps something new about her, came back. It wasn't likely, Liza was careful about footage, and I'd seen her check criminals for little cameras. Plus, she was fast on her feet for someone with minimalist training, so she wouldn't get caught by the police or a gang unless she was unconscious.
"Anything new?" Donnie asked. I looked over my shoulder at my brainy brother, who appeared to be pecking at some contraption with a pair of laser tweezers. A double experiment, the laser tweezers were new, and the contraption looked like a small engine he was repairing.
"Same junk as usual. the Black Mask Terror is still killin' large numbers of the Foot and Purple Dragons, more than the News realizes." I answered. Donnie nodded along to what I said, and slipped by me to the kitchen for his daily dose of coffee. I turned back to the TV to watch the news on weather patterns and how the north had another hard snow in the early spring season.
Donnie popped his head back in and said, "We're not supposed to be looking out for the Black Mask Terror outright. Turn the volume back up unless you want Leo on your tail."
I glowered at the screen as I pressed the volume button up to listen to the woman talk about a ship off the coast of New York.
June 13, 2007
"Breaking News has come in..."
I looked up and shook my head to nod off the sleep. It was four in the morning, what breaking news could there possibly be?
The news anchor held the microphone closer to his ear, like he couldn't hear it loud and clear.
"The Black Mask Terror has met the Black Mask Terror- Wait what? Are you sure?" He stuttered and stopped on screen. There was a few short seconds of silence before he straightened up and faced the camera once more. A fake smile plastered his face, like his act didn't just fall. The Black Mask Terror meeting the Black Mask Terror, huh? This ought to be good.
"Breaking News has come in. We have footage of the Black Mask Terror apparently meeting the Black Mask Terror. Yes folks you heard me right. There are two the Black Mask Terror's, and one -the one we thought was the real the Black Mask Terror- was not happy upon meeting herself. Himself? God, I don't know anymore." The news anchor pressed his forehead to his desk as he waved his hand, a signal for the footage to show.
It was crappy security footage, silent and blurry, but the two black figures were unmistakable. I leaned forwards and watched as one black figure lifted a gun up. The other swung a dagger, I think, like they were about to have a fight. The one with a dagger lunged the same time they dodged a bullet.
The security camera hazed and focused again. Both bodies still stood, but one was wounded. There was a limp in their leg. Which one was her? Which one was Liza?
The one unwounded flexed their wrist, like something was restraining them, and they charged.
"Well folks, we would show you the rest, but not only does it get bloody, it gets gory. The original Black Mask Terror, yes the woman, had her fun with the other Black Mask Terror, a man by the name of," The New Anchor looked at the paper. "David Thompson. When he was found by the police, not only was his skin carved with her symbol, there was also a happy warning that stated beware to anyone who tries to copy her." He looks at the camera, frowning with a look that said "we're screwed".
"Until next time folks. Now we go to the weather."
July 17, 2007
I rubbed the closed bullet wound in my arm, a testimony to the last several months. A reason to remain in New York. It wasn't that I didn't like New York, I enjoyed it quite thoroughly, but the fun was sucked out without the daily dose of Mikey's fanatic behavior, Donnie's think through process in everything, a fight or spar every now and then with Raph, and a meditation session with Master Splinter. Dear god, I cared again.
I jumped to the next roof and leaned against a wall that overlooked the alley.
The price for all of them was one person, who I couldn't touch and wasn't allow to touch me. Leonardo. A cold shoulder here, a glare from across the room there. It was mutual feelings between the two of us, and I wanted his head on a stick when he asked me to leave. But I got why he did it. He was protecting his family. I would have done the same. It must have been hard to go against every instinct for your family, to let a murderer into your home.
I jumped off the edge of the building into the alley, where I rolled to catch my landing. I picked myself back up and dusted my legs as I looked around. The alley was empty, and on one of the walls was dried blood. It was flaking, months old, but the emblem was obvious. A mask with sharp teeth, drawn in the victim's blood.
That's what I was. That's what I was supposed to be. A terror of New York City. I was alone, it was what kept me and others safe. People I could care about wouldn't be used as bait to me. It was possibly the only reason Shredder hadn't caught wind of where I was yet. I couldn't afford to be sympathetic.
I was being sympathetic though. I was targeting the Foot and the Purple Dragons, because they were enemies of the turtles. It was coincidence they were people I could kill.
Why was I thinking about it so much? That was months ago, and this is now. Now I had to worry about where my next meal was. I had a job to do, so why was I-
A downward force ripped across my back, and before I could hit the ground pain erupted from it. I caught my fall with my hands and knees, mentally prepared to face whatever came at me, but pain went through my upper back as my skin ripped itself. It was obvious what it was then that had happened, because I'd seen and felt similar pain. I had a laceration down my back. Someone had managed to sneak up behind me and cut me.
More pain crawled down my spine and my arms buckled. I fell onto my side, a hope to defend myself againsy whoever faced me. It was too dark to see who it was, but they were holding something sharp. A sword perhaps.
Another round of pain went through my body and I realized my back to the alley ground probably wasn't the smartest. Footsteps walked up to me, and someone grabbed my jaw. He lifted the mask I wore away from my face.
"Long live the Black Mask Terror." He hissed at me. He dropped my head back to the ground, where I stayed. I should figure out the best move. I had a laceration down my back, and my attacker still had his weapon. He was walking away though, I was going to be left. If I could call out, maybe I could find someone to help.
But this is bloody New York City, not many are going to look out their window and call the police about someone else dying. It happens too often for many to care.
My back felt warm, from my shoulders to my tailbone. It seeped through my clothes and resonated a warmth. It reached my face within minutes, and my cheeks were tickled by the warm liquid. I cracked my eye open and looked down at the ground beside me. My blood. I hadn't seen that much blood come out of my body before. Well, it really was a short run. I'd failed Hitoshi, even if I'd fought for months. I wouldn't even die from a fight, but from a backstab. Fitting, really.
July 18, 2007
It'd been two months since any of us had actually seen Liza beyond taped footage. It'd been long enough that Leo had caught me watching the news enough times he'd finally stopped trying to stop me. It was what I did during the day now, while at night I looked for Liza through Night Watcher. I never realized how easily I'd found her before until I no longer could. She could hide pretty well.
"Hey dude, the news has a weird promo at the bottom. Sounds like it's about Liza." Mikey informed, loud enough that Leo no doubt heard from the dojo. Don and I looked away from his newest toy and towards the tv. The newscaster was shuffling his papers as he waited for the cue to speak, and at the bottom of the screen was a line: 'who is the Black Mask Terror?'
Leo opened the door from the dojo and came out, probably a result of Mikey shouting.
"What's going on?" Leo asked Mikey as he came farther into the room.
"Um..." Mikey hmmed.
"Something about Liza." Donnie answered. Mikey smile sheepishly at Leo as he turned to look at me with a glare. I didn't pay heed to him as a picture with Black Mask Terror written out showed on screen,
"What is with you and-"
"We bring you news unlike any before. We found the Black Mask Terror. " The news reporter said, which effectively cut Leo off.
My blood ran cold from the news. Mikey froze behind me, and the smacking sounds he made from his sandwich was suddenly gone. No...
"She, yes she has finally been identified as she, was found in an alley, after a battle she couldn't win. We have footage of finding her, but the news isn't allowed to produce this footage until released by the police. What I can tell you who she is, and the extent of her wounds." The reporter continued.
He smiled, like today is the happiest moment of his life. He took a deep breath, schooling his emotions. He read his notes before he spoke.
"The Black Mask Terror has sustained a major injury the length of her back." He explained, and a picture popped up beside him. It was cleaned of any blood that was there and stitched up, but the wound was still gruesome. There was a heavy dose of antibiotics over the cut, but it still looked incredibly vicious. From her left shoulder to to her right hip was a clean slice. It was long enough and deep enough that the picture was definitely taken after surgery, because that would need a bandage for the damage, not just stitches.
"Holy Hannah..." I heard Donnie whisper, and I bet he thought the same as me.
"That right there was the only injury she sustained during the fight, but previous wounds say she hasn't been lucky in the past either. Bullet, knives, other scars with unknown origins, she just didn't go down. " The reporter said. He sat straighter then and shuffled the papers in front of him.
"Her name is Elizabeth Lanier; a seventeen year old girl who was last seen in Indiana when she left the state. Before that she was seen in an orphanage back in Oregon, where she would have stayed until her previous wounds healed." He clicked off like facts. The picture of her back disappeared with a picture of her, at thirteen years old. She looked... depressed, tired, sickly. Her eye was puffy from tears, and her lip had been chewed on. Her left eye was covered with a white bandage, damp with tears and blood. A second picture popped up, a version of her without the patch. Stitches lined her left eye, where an angry red cut, soon to be a scar, glared at us, but this time she looked defeated and defiant. Her jaw was set, her eyes were hard and baggy. Her lip was still chewed, but it looked like she was more angry than nervous.
"She is to undergo evaluation when she wakes up, which should be later today her doctors tell us. We will give you more information then." The reporter completed before he gave us a blinding smile and the TV went on mute.
"Well..." Mikey murmured after a few seconds.
"Leo!" I shouted. I jumped up from the couch and face my brother who caused this. Leo stood up from his slouched position, and his face tight. "Ya... ya idiotic bastard! How dare ya-"
"How dare I? I was doing what I thought was best for the family. How is it my fault she got hurt!" He snapped back. I pointed a finger at him in warning.
"If you had let her stay, she wouldn' have gotten hurt. She wouldn' be in the custody of the police! Do you know what they're goin' ta do ta her?" I asked him.
Leo took a deep breath through his nose, but didn't say a word. He just narrowed his eyes at me. I curled my lip at him.
"They are going ta interrogate her, every inch of her is goin' ta be looked at, and then she's goin' ta jail. With the amount of people she has murdered, they aren't goin' ta care that she has saved twice as many." I growled.
"Raph-" Leo said, a warning.
"No Leo. Ya listen ta me. Liza is a brave person. She is jus' like April, or Casey, or you. She does things differently because that was what she was taught by her sensei Hitoshi. Imagine if Master Splinta had raised us ta kill instead of jus' hurt. We would have still had honor!" I spit out.
Leo's eyes widened.
"Honor. she has honor?" He looks at the three of us. He looked like he was going to laugh for a moment, like it was a joke, but none of the three of us smiled. His face fell as he asked, "You really believe she has honor?"
I looked over my shoulder at Mikey and Don. Mikey looked between Leo and I, then at his sandwich. He gulped down a bite of food, and took a deep breath. I thought he would say something, but instead he held his breath and nodded his head. Don looked conflicted between Leo and I, and he shrugged.
"She has saved more people than she's killed and you don't have the cleanest slate either, Leo. You've killed the Purple Dragons, and the Foot, whatever else you have faced. We all have. Not one of us really has clean hands." Don answered.
"We had too, out of self defense." Leo answered, not to fight but to point out out. Donnie nodded in agreement with Leo.
"Exactly. That's what Liza was doing. She was defending people who don't know how too, and she was stopping the people who are hurting others before they can do it again." Don explained. Leo looked at Don, then me, then Mikey. He finally slouched down once he came to whatever decision he chose.
"Okay, I get it now. She's good... ish, but how are you going to get to her? She's in the custody of who knows in a building who knows where." Leo asked. I was silent for several long seconds, because I swear I didn't hear right.
"Ya agree with us?" I asked.
"Yes. No. In the end, no matter what, I side with my brothers, even if I don't like what you're doing, I'm by your side," He answered. He looked uncomfortable. "She's a killer, but I have to concede... So, how are we getting her back?"
I wanted to hug Leo, but I refrained from it for the fact that I didn't know what he wanted to do from there.
"We wait for the news to come back, and we learn where she is. Then we'll go and get her." Don answered.
"Tonight." Mikey agreed.
"We are back with news on the Black Mask Terror. While she has made an amazing recovery physically, there was a surprise upon her awakening." The four of us looked up from our game of Uno to see what was going on.
"Why does that not sound good?" Mikey asked dully.
"Because Mikey, it isn't." Don responded.
"What do ya mean?" I asked.
"That cut was deep and traumatic. She lost a lot of blood getting it. I would be surprised if there wasn't some other damage from losing that much blood." Don answered.
"So something is wrong with her?" Leo asked.
"...I hope not." Don said.
"The Black Mask Terror, now known as Elizabeth Lanier, woke up earlier today, at one o'clock. Her interrogation took place a little later, and the results are startling. Here is a peek." The man said, and with a slight hand wave queued for the video.
It was a police investigation room, where a sole body sat. She was dressed in a hospital outfit a bit big for her frame, enough so we could see her left shoulder was bandaged. She was rubbing at gingerly, like it was something to do, as she stared at the blood bag connected to her arm. It was nearly empty, so she must be good. The brunette girl looked up at the camera, and it was Liza who stared at us. But it wasn't Liza. She didn't have an air to her I hadn't been aware was there. She didn't look like she could kill someone. In fact, she looked more ready to cry then to pull out a knife.
A policeman walked in with something steaming in his hands. Liza took the cup given and sipped on it slowly with the hand that wasn't fingering the material on her shoulder.
"Alright, let's get this over with." The police officer said. "What's the last thing you remember?"
"I was on a train headed to my grandmother's." She whispered. We shouldn't have heard her, she talked so quietly, but we did. There must be a microphone nearby. "I heard a train whistle go off... but it wasn't mine. My m-mom pushed me into a seat and buckled me, told me to stay there. She covered me with her body to stop something. The other train. The l-last thing I remember was my brother on the ground..." Liza's eyes glistened, and she looked at the police officer head on. "There... there was... Blood flowing from his head. He was unconscious. Oh poor Johnny..." She let tears fall, and she abandoned her bandage to rub her eyes. "What happened?"
The police officer leaned forwards and placed a hand on Liza's hand.
"Listen. I need you to be telling the truth. No lies in this investiga-"
"I'm not lying! Why would I... I just want to know what happened to my little brother." She whimpered.
I felt the sudden urge to hug Mikey, and scooted an inch closer to him.
"She saw her brother die." Leo whispered from where he sat as he watched Liza closely. "She watched him."
The policeman looked up at the camera, and sighed heavily. He spoke, "Elizabeth, my name is Eric, and I'm a police officer of New York City."
Liza looked at him with a strong frown.
"Why is someone from New York in Oregon?" She asked. The policeman cursed then, which made Liza jump. He stood up and walked to the window. Liza curled in on herself, brought her legs up on the chair. She cringed when it pulled at her stitches, and folded her legs under her instead. The policeman looked through the glass window to stare at the people on the other side as something was said to him through in his earpiece. I could see his jaw tighten, and he took a deep breath.
"Eliza- may I call you that?" He asked. Liza nodded as she watched him. The man sighed heavily, "I'm not in Oregon. You're in New York City."
Liza remains silent. For a brief moment I thought the camera had stopped, but then the police officer Eric steeled his stance and spoke.
"And you're in jail for murdering several hundred people in New York City alone." He said, no hesitation or waiting.
Liza moved so fast she was a blur to the camera, but in the next moment she was standing up and on the other side of the table.
"I did what?" She asked, suddenly not so quiet. Eric raised a hand, saying calm down or I'll be forced to handcuff you. Liza didn't seem phased, she turned on her heel and leaned against the table.
"Where is my family?" She whispered. She looked back at Eric. "Where are they?"
"They're dead." Eric answered.
"Can I see them?" She asked next. Eric paused. "Eric..."
"They've been dead for three years." He said slowly, like he was talking to a child. He probably was actually, because Liza had lost a few years of her life here.
Liza dropped to her knees and put her head on the table. I noticed blood between her shoulder blades, which meant the wounds opened from her movement.
"Who did it?" She asked.
"A man by the name Antonio Dent. He's been dead for two years though." Eric answered patiently.
Liza didn't move for a few long moments, and then she stood up. Her moves were slow, sluggish, like she was tired. She looked at the needle in her arm, and then paused. She twisted her arm around to stare at her wrist, then pulled her sleeve up.
"Do I have... Is that... Was I shot?" She asked. She showed Eric her arm. He didn't look at it, but he nodded.
"We don't know when, but doctors estimate it was a few months ago." Eric answered. Liza looked at her arm, and began to scratch the scar violently with her nails. Eric jumped into action there. "Hey hey! Don't do that."
Eric grabbed her arms and pulled them apart so she couldn't scratch herself anymore.
"This isn't a ruse then?" She asked.
"That's how she was keeping it in. She thought it was all a prank." Don murmured, his eyes on the TV like glue on paper.
"Yes." Eric said.
"I'm in New York City?" She asked.
"Yes."
"And I've been convicted of murdering a thousandpeople?" She asked, her voice very faint.
"Yes. There's already been a sentence for life in prison. It would have been death penalty, but you're still a minor." Eric explained.
Liza looked at the camera again, lost and scared, and then it goes back to the newscaster.
"Elizabeth Lanier has been diagnosed with infantile amnesia. Multiple tests concluded she doesn't have any memory of the last three years. She is currently being held in New York City's police station until they can arrange her cell at a prison. For safety reasons, that information has not been disclosed." He smiles faintly. "It appears the job of justice has now been placed back on Night Watcher's shoulders, as the Black Mask Terror faces prison for life."
July 19, 2007 12:34 A.M.
We were thirty minutes away from leaving, and I was placed on TV duty to make sure nothing new happened before we got to Liza. My legs bounced along the ground enough that Mikey couldn't sit next to me, which I was ok with. What were we supposed to do when we got her? She had no memory of us, and since she was wounded and imprisoned she would likely be too scared to come freely. And what of my brother, Raph, who had spent months trying to find her again? He'd been trying to find the Liza that liked him, and this one might not. What would he do now?
"And as you can see, the vibrations allow for a better flow of energy through your- We interrupt this broadcast for an alert. The Black Mask Terror has been stolen from her cell."
I sat up as I checked the clock. We weren't due to leave for another twenty minutes, so who could have gotten Liza?
"Raph, Leo! Something came up." I shouted out for them. I turned to see them coming out of the dojo, no worse for wear than when they went their. They both were looking at the TV with slack expressions. I looked back to see why, and my jaw dropped.
A cell, presumably Liza's, had a gaping hole in the back of it. Liza wasn't there, and the signs of struggle were obvious. There was blood on the floor and the bed was destroyed, with sheets ripped and bed upturned.
"'The Black Mask Terror was taken unwillingly', police say, 'and was wounded in the process.' This doesn't look so good for the Elizabeth Lanier, especially now that we know who she is, but I think the real question is, Where is the Black Terror now?" The man asked the camera, like someone would answer him.
I clicked the TV off, finally sick of the guy's face, and looked over at Leo and Raph. Raph leaned against the couch and took deep breaths through his nose. Leo looked startled, his head turned sideways in thought.
"Well, what now?" I asked.
"Plan B." Leo said.
"Which is what, exactly?" I asked. Leo and Raph looked at each other.
"I don't know."
A/n: Several hundred murders is an ungodly amount of death for a serial killer. What is the most in real life, 300? But I ran the numbers, from February to July, if she killed three a night, that was 500 deaths. But in May, June, and July, she was killing teens amount of people (mostly the Foot but that's logistics), which skyrockets the numbers. That is so much death.
Good thing this is fiction!