Chapter 2: Waking Up, Briefly

The first thing Leo was aware of upon awakening was that he was somewhere cold. His extremities were already numb, the rest of his body following closely behind. This freezing temperature was not helped in any way by the icy water dumped on him not a moment later.

Teeth chattering, Leo stared at his captor in the dim light of wherever they were, silently cursing him, but at the same time grateful that as far as Leo knew, Deathstroke had not taken his brothers.

"So glad you finally deigned to join me," Deathstroke began, setting the now-empty bucket aside. "I was beginning to think you would die on me, but you're much too stubborn for that, aren't you?" He let out low chuckle worthy of a cheesy 80's horror movie.

Leo would have liked to respond could he have gotten any words through his numb lips and clattering teeth, but seeing as he was starting to go hypothermic- being cold-blooded and all- that was not possible. What he could do was send a glare to the chuckling man that would have made one of their old villains quiver in fear, but this killer was not afraid.

Deathstroke looked down after a few moments of creepily staring at the mutant turtle in front of him, before pulling a small knife from somewhere on his person.

Leo fought the impulse to shudder at the thought of that knife cutting into any part of his body, staring at the sharp object in the slowly advancing man's hand. As the shining metal came closer and closer, Leo tried to shrink back, only to discover that he was chained to a wall he couldn't feel because of the cold.

"Now, don't take this personally, I'm only doing this to get an old friend of mine's attention. Don't worry, you probably won't be awake for most of it," with those last words, Deathstroke made quick work of his arms, strained above his head.

When he was done there, he moved onto Leo's legs. The lower appendages, previously numb, had regained enough feeling in them that the teenage turtle was in agonizing pain for the remainder of the hour-long ordeal. Deathstroke did get one thing right, and that was that Leo passed out when the mercenary started in on the sensitive area between Leo's plastron and carapace. By the end of all of this, Leo was practically bathed in his own blood, which was now dripping into a gory puddle on the grimy floor.

"Hmm," Deathstroke made an approving noise. "He lasted longer than I thought he would." With this last message to the empty air, he turned away, cleaning the blade until it once more glimmered in the fading light of the warehouse-turned-torture-chamber.