AUTHOR: Merry Christmas and a happy new year! And special thanks to Dierdre who beta this chapter.
WARNING: Swearing, dark, gore, etc, etc, etc.
Whether those green dudes had decided not to capitalize on my moment of stupidity, or even that... grey hairy thing, I had no clue. Who knows, maybe I just knew they wouldn't do anything since they didn't when my back was turned. Or maybe I just wasn't thinking at all.
Regardless, if they were planning to jump me or merely waiting to see if I turned hostile or not, a shout of "There he is!" followed by the sounds of bullets hitting the wall next to me probably put a dent in whatever plans they had.
M.J. ducked down on reflex as pieces of the wall pelted him. Half turning, he aimed his 9mm and fired several shots towards the dark figures that were emerging from the only unoccupied tunnel. He couldn't tell if he actually hit any of the Purple Dragons, but the shots at least made them keep their heads down. Turning back to face the riverbank in front of him, M.J. jumped across, landing in a very undignified manner and almost falling into the sewer water.
Cursing to himself as he scrambled upright, M.J. started running as fast as he could, without even looking back to see what those creatures were doing now. Just before he had jumped, he had seen both creatures practically melt into the shadows, as if becoming part of it.
Oh man, just like that thing did in my nightmares!
More shots screamed from the darkness and hit the unseen wall to his right, but M.J. kept on running, the memories of his nightmares giving him an extra boost. A few seconds later, a couple more shots were fired, quickly followed by cries of pain and surprise.
Sounds like someone is dealing out some major whoop-ass.
M.J. kept running, however, with no intentions of going back to see what had happened.
80 minutes later...
"I don't like this, man."
"You been sayin' that for half an hour already. Give it a rest!"
"Hey man, it's been over an hour since we lost contact with not one group, not two, but three! That's gotta be over forty guys at least!"
"Yer point?"
"Point? Point? There's no way that Grove guy got 'em all, so that leaves only one other option. Well, four, actually, but you know what I mean."
"Oh, fer cryin' out loud, like I didn't see that one comin'..."
"It's those green freaks! It's gotta be them! I mean, why else would da Foot be 'round here, too?"
"Oh phu-leeze. Just 'cause Chuck mentioned that he thought he saw some Foot runnin' around here somewhere, don't mean jack! Now shattap, we're supposed to be guardin' dis intersection, not chatting an' giving away our position."
The younger of the two turned to the other, looking like he was about to argue some more, but he made the mistake of turning his back to the dark opening he was supposed to guard.
A heavy blow to the back of the head sent the youngster collapsing to the dirty metal floor. The other spun around, his left-handed grip on the gun momentarily forgotten as he stood face-to-face with a hard set of pale green eyes. M.J. thrust the butt of his shotgun into the punk's groin, causing him to double over in pain. He then slammed his weapon into the Purple Dragon's face, causing him to fly backwards as blood sprayed from his broken nose and lips. He landed heavily on the floor and didn't get up again.
"Hey! Did you guys hear that?"
"Came from over dere!"
Voices and shadows came from up ahead, right next the ascending stairs that M.J. had planned on using. He didn't even have time to curse as Purple Dragons appeared, all armed and looking pissed. M.J. had only a split second to decide what to do; fight, turn and run, or jump into the sewer stream beside him.
His 9mm was half empty and the distance was too long to use the shotgun. Maybe it had been an echo or just paranoia, but he could have sworn he had heard something coming from the passage behind him. So that only left the final option.
Here goes nothing...
The second M.J. landed in the stream with a disconcerting plop he knew it had been a bad decision, not to mention a stupid one. The current was strong, much stronger than M.J. had thought. His lost his grip on his 9mm and barely kept his shotgun as the current sent him hurtling into a narrow tunnel, the ceiling brushing dangerously close to his head. It was almost completely dark inside, and his imagination didn't make it easier by filling his head with pictures of his body suddenly slamming into a wall, or being sucked into a small pipe and getting stuck there, or getting sliced into pieces by a giant fan, or-
Suddenly, the tunnel took a sharp turn to the right and bright light momentarily blinded him. When his eyes adjusted and sight returned, M.J. saw that he had indeed reached the end of the tunnel. Literally.
Everything was still a bit blurry from the sudden burst of light, but the sensation of falling was unmistakable.
"OH, SHIIII-" M.J.'s cry of terror was cut short when he landed hard on a rough surface. He almost bounced on it as the air was knocked out of his lungs, and he lost his grip on the shotgun, though it had landed within arm's reach. He laid there on his stomach, blinking to clear his eyes and trying to make his lungs remember how to breathe. He regained his vision quickly, though what he saw made him wonder if he had landed on his head.
The room was big, very big. Looked to be an old drainage junction of some kind, with over four entrances. But what stood out the most were the people in it, if you could call them that. To M.J.'s extreme dismay and slight fear, the three green creatures were in the room, along with that rat thing. Just to make things stranger, there were people dressed in some sort of grey pajamas, all wearing black masks to cover their faces and holding a bunch of weird-looking swords and spears. From the looks of things, they had all been in the middle of a heated fight, with each of those green freaks facing off against three or four of those grey weirdoes. Even the big rat had six surrounding him, but judging by all the unconscious --or possibly dead-- bodies lying on the floor, the creatures were not outclassed.
But in whatever state the fight had been in, all attention was now focused on him… and being the center of this kind of attention did not bring about a good feeling. The creatures had a look of recognition on their faces, and even though there was no way to read facial expressions on the grey pajamas guys, the tilt of their heads and the exchanged looks made it clear they were surprised.
An uncomfortable silence reigned, with the only sounds coming from the flow of water trickling through the exposed sewer pipes around the room.
"...uh...hi," M.J. finally mumbled, waving sheepishly. The green one wearing the blue bandana slapped a hand over his face while purple and orange exchanged sidelong looks. The rat's expression remained hidden behind one of his attackers, but the other pajama guys' reactions were easy to interpret.
"Slay the freaks, and somebody take care of that idiot!" someone shouted in anger. Just about everyone seemed to snap back to their senses and resume fighting with the green guys and the rat, while three pajamas came charging towards M.J., as if they were racing who would get to kill him first.
The closest one, appearing suddenly on M.J.'s left, raised his katana to cleave his head off as he charged towards him. The blade caught the reflection of a nearby light bulb, giving it a sharp glow as it came closer and closer. M.J. just stared at the blade, barely hearing a yell of warning that came from the blue dude. But as the blade came down M.J. suddenly blinked, snapped out of his fear and let pure instinct took over. Forcing all of his strength into his left arm, he rolled himself away to the right, narrowly dodging the blade, which sparked as it hit the rusty metal floor where M.J.'s neck had been a second ago.
In the middle of the roll, M.J. managed to grab his shotgun and come to a halt in a kneeling position. The pajama guy that had tried to cleave his head off was already moving towards him, the blade ready for another swing. A second was approaching swiftly in front of him, while the third came from the far right.
And suddenly, for the second time that day, everything just... slowed down.
The flow of sewer water spewing from the pipes slowed down, the sounds changing into a deep roar of thunder. On the other side of the room, the blue thing's swords clashed with another's, creating sparks that cascaded everywhere. M.J.'s eyes then turned to the closest attacker, who was slowly swinging the blade towards him. Rising up with equal slowness, M.J. aimed the shotgun and fired.
For a brief moment, M.J. felt a slight tingling sensation when he pulled the trigger, watching as the shotgun pellets left behind a blurry path before slamming into the attacker. For a second it looked like they had passed through cleanly, but then all of a sudden blood seemed to explode from the attacker's chest and back, as his body started flying backwards from the impact of the slugs.
Without even a conscious thought, M.J. jacked the shotgun, eying the empty shell that flew out in slow motion, before turning and aiming the weapon at the attacker in front of him. A second tingling sensation went through his body as the slugs tore through the right side of the pajama guy's chest. M.J. could almost hear the sounds of muscles ripping away from bone as the attacker's right arm was separated from his torso. The arm, still holding the blade, continued flying towards M.J., who sidestepped to the right, the blade narrowly missing him.
The final attacker's blade slowly swung towards M.J., who ducked down as the blade sailed over his head, cutting off a few strands of hair. Jacking the shotgun again, M.J. shoved the shotgun under the attacker's chin and pulled the trigger.
The moment the pajama guy's head exploded, everything returned back to normal time, with only a slight ringing in M.J.'s ears.
M.J. blinked as two bodies hit the floor, followed by the empty shells. The fight in the room had stopped once more, and M.J. slowly turned, his eyes wide as he took in the carnage he had created.
M.J. felt that everyone was looking at him, and a part inside him shuddered under the stares, while his mouth slowly started to work, "...did... did I just-"
He never got a chance to finish, for blinding, white-hot pain suddenly filled his mind.
He didn't scream. The pain was so intense that it blocked the command to do so. He was vividly aware of falling to the floor, as something wet and hot poured out of his nose. His eardrums felt like they were about to explode, and his eyes were on fire, as if someone had shoved them into a bucket of salt.
As M.J. laid there with his face hidden behind his hands, shaking like he was having some kind of seizure, two ninjas walked cautiously up to him. Seeing blood seep from between his fingers, the two ninjas exchanged looks, momentarily unsure what to do. The three bodies of their fallen brethren soon reminded them, however, and both of them raised their blades over M.J. and struck down hard.
CH-CHING!
A third blade blocked their attacks. The blue bandana creature gritted his teeth and roundhouse kicked the nearest ninja into the other, tossing both of them away. Blue bandana made a quick sweep around to see if more ninjas were coming, and then spared a glance at M.J. A slight gasp escaped his lips at seeing his wretched state.
"Hey, Don! I think we gotta problem here!" blue bandana yelled, bracing himself as the two ninjas regained their feet and posed to make another move.
"You don't say!" responded purple bandana, who was fending off three attackers at once.
Orange bandana, who was busy dealing with two ninjas circling around him, paused long enough to shout over his shoulder, "Never thought I'd be the one saying this, but where's Raph when you need him?"
"He went the other way with Casey. Now less talk, more fight!" snapped blue bandana as the two ninjas chose that moment to attack him from opposite directions.
Pain...can't...think...hurts...
Through the electric, stabbing pain, M.J.'s eyes slowly opened. His eyes felt like they were boiling, and he saw nothing but a red haze. Slowly blinking, the blood in his eyes cleared away and through his still blurry vision, he could barely make out a tunnel just ahead.
Gotta...get...outta here...
All around him there was noise. The clash of metal. Battle cries. The meaty thuds of kicks and punches. For the moment none of that mattered to him, however. He only wanted to get out, to get away from those... those... things and those pajama guys, away from the Purple Dragons and away from the pain. He slowly crawled towards the tunnel, but such a method of travel went too slowly. With what little strength he had left, he shakily got to his knees, and then to his feet. He staggered towards the exit, while trying not to lose bowel control in the process.
Suddenly, the pain behind his eyes intensified, and the tunnel entrance split into three.
Aw hell, just... aim for the one... in the middle...
Staggering left and right, M.J. half ran into the tunnel, but lost his balance after only a few steps and fell hard to the floor. Face down in the muck and yuck, he might have lain there, for five seconds or five minutes. He had no clue which. His sense of time was all jumbled. The pain in his head had slightly lessened, but he barely noticed it as he lay prone, trying to find enough strength to stand up again.
CLUNG!
A wooden stick suddenly bounced across the floor and rolled passed M.J.
"...mmm?"
A moment later, something landed hard right next to M.J. and grunted in pain. At first it was just a small, grey, blurry object, but the image quickly cleared. M.J. blinked again bemusedly when he saw that it was that big rat, its expression a perfect mixture of pain and anger as it slowly tried to stand up. Its eyes opened, revealing grey-colored eyes that held an intelligence that M.J. hadn't noticed before. They also held anger in them, though that emotion was soon replaced by surprise when its eyes met M.J.'s. For a couple of seconds, both of them just laid there, blinking at each other. No doubt M.J.'s appearance had surprised the rat; his eyes were literally bloodshot, his face smeared with blood as more slowly oozed out of his nose and ears. M.J. was blissfully unaware of his disheveled state, however, for he was still trying to accept that he was looking at a four-foot-tall rat.
But just as he was about to remember how his vocal cords worked, something small and round rolled between the two and stopped. Both glanced at it and realized at the same time just what it was. It was around the size of a tennis ball, with an emblazoned flame tattoo that was blinking red faster and faster. And something that was blinking red at an increasing rate only meant one thing.
Both M.J. and the rat glanced at each other, and then simultaneously reached out and grabbed the time bomb. With one hand gripping half of it and a paw holding the other; they tossed it back to where it had come from. And not a moment too soon.
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM
M.J. felt like his eardrums had exploded, as the bright flash from the bomb nearly blinded him. He covered his head with his arms as everything started to rumble. The bomb had exploded at the tunnel's entrance, and the ceiling started to come crashing down.
The data that came in was far worse then he had braced himself for, and he breathed in sharply as he saw what was happening to the brain. He immediately started typing in commands, requesting more data and damage assessments, his large fingers carefully navigating across the command console. He was so caught up in his work, that he didn't notice someone had entered the room.
"It has happened, hasn't it?"
He nearly jumped out of his lab coat from sheer fright, before he turned to face the new arrival. "M-Mr. Mortu! I am, that is I... I..."
Mr. Mortu's Exo-suit raised a hand in a silent gesture as he walked up to the computer screen, which showed a human brain marred in specific areas by several small red dots. As he leaned in closer to examine the data, his large companion's face was drenched in worry and fear. Finally, Mr. Mortu gave a sigh after viewing something that he had hoped would not happen.
"When did they become active?"
"T-this morning. I-I was in the middle of an experiment, when suddenly data started coming in, telling me that the nano-probes in his brain had suddenly activated themselves, causing much... damage and pain," the last words were whispered in guilt, and he lowered his head in remorse as Mr. Mortu looked up to face him. "I... I had hoped that... it would only happen once, that it would be an isolated incident, but then these new readings just came in and... it has gotten worse. Much, much worse."
"You know what I have to do, do you not?"
"Yes... the... the Council will have to be informed... of everything."
"And I intend to take full responsibility of what has happened."
Hearing those words, he looked sharply at Mr. Mortu, his eyes wide. "W-what? B-but Mr. Mortu, it was I who brought him here in secret and administered the nano-probes into his body and-"
"And it was I who discovered what you were doing and remained silent about it. I can understand your motives, Leatherhead. Your intentions were good, but this situation has drastically changed. Not only have we done more harm than good, but steps need to be taken to avoid our nano-probes falling into his hands. The Council has to be informed."
Leatherhead closed his eyes, silently wishing that things had turned out differently. After a few seconds, he opened his eyes again and looked down at Mr. Mortu.
"Mr. Mortu, please, I am truly, truly sorry that this has happened. I only wanted to save him. H-he was badly wounded, and I had only made it worse by attacking him when I was... when t-the Beast was in control. I-I came back to my senses before I could h-hurt him more, but as I saw him and smelled his scent, all t-these memories j-just came back to me. I just, I j-just knew that, that-"
Mr. Mortu placed his hand on Leatherhead's shoulder, for he was clearly getting more and more emotional as he retold the event. Feeling Mr. Mortu's touch calmed him down as he took several deep breaths, while Mr. Mortu spoke with a reassuring smile, "Like I said, Leatherhead, I fully understand your decision to help him, as you've already told me what these memories were about. Your intentions were good, but that does not change what has happened here. I will go to the Council and tell them everything, and then we will find him and take him here, and hope that we'll be able to fix what we have done to him."
Leatherhead nodded, but then bowed his head in shame once more. Mr. Mortu placed his other hand on his remaining shoulder, compelling him to look back up. "I assure you, Leatherhead, none of us will think ill or less of you. What you did was also in our nature; you saw a chance to save a life and you took it. And for that, I am proud of you."
Leatherhead blinked, and a smile slowly spread across his face as he quickly wiped away tears that had formed in his eyes. Mr. Mortu gave his shoulders a final gentle squeeze, before removing his hands. "Now, while I am gone, I need you to stay here in case anything else happens. I shall not be long."
And with that, Mr. Mortu left Leatherhead, who then turned back to the screen showing M.J.'s brain. Gently, he placed his large hand on the screen, as if hoping he could somehow lessen the pain he had caused.
Slowly, M.J. lifted his head up to see if he had been buried alive. The cave-in had apparently stopped, although a loose rock occasionally fell from the ceiling. Dust was everywhere, thick as a cloud, but he could still faintly see the passage ahead, which meant it hadn't also crumbled. Looking back, M.J. nearly had a heart attack when he saw how close the rubble was to him, only a couple of feet away.
A dull pain suddenly blossomed behind his eyes and he squeezed them shut, starting to notice just how shitty he felt. His eyeballs felt like they had grown three sizes too big for his skull, his mouth was like a desert, he could barely breathe through his nose, and his head felt like it had a horse kicking inside it every other second. A momentary feeling of nausea rippled around in his stomach, but he managed to suppress it as he tried to will himself to stand up.
A high-pitched beeping suddenly sounded right next to him, nearly making his heart jump out of his mouth.
Breathing heavily, which made him cough because of all the dust, he could barely see something small lying within arm's reach. Carefully reaching for the object, he grabbed it and brought it closer to see what the hell was making all the noise. The device's casing resembled a green shell, and it was about as big as a cell phone. Turning it over revealed a small screen along with some buttons, one of which blinked each time the thing ringed. Not really considering that it might be some kind of a bomb, M.J. pressed the button and brought it to his ear.
"-aster Splinter! Are you alright?"
M.J. flinched and moved the cell-thingy away, starting to feel pissed. The last thing he needed right about now was to talk to someone who yelled into cell phones.
"Master Splinter! Respond!"
"Didn't yer momma ever tell ya not to yell into phones!" snapped M.J., his temper getting the best of him. There was a moment of stunned silence before the voice spoke again, the worry replaced by anger.
"Who is this?.!"
"I'm the Devil, who the fuck are you?" M.J. yelled back. He was starting to have a feeling that the speaker was one of those green freaks, and since tons of rocks was between him and them, he felt confident enough to piss them off.
"Give me that!"
The voice snapped angrily right next to M.J., and suddenly the cell thingy was snatched away from him. Looking up, he nearly had another heart attack when he saw it was the rat, standing right next to him as if he had been there the whole time.
The rat gave him an irritated look before speaking into the cell. "I am alright, my sons."
S-sons? M.J. blinked. ...Ew, I wonder what their mom looks like.
"What of you? Are you all alright?" The rat asked. An expression of relief softened his features when the reply came, but he quickly hid it as if realizing he was not alone.
The one on the other end of the line went on, sounding like he was speaking in a hurry, while the rat just calmly nodded. "Yes, I am not alone. It would appear that I am trapped with..." the rat trailed off for a second, until he looked down at M.J., who was still on the floor, "what is your name, child?"
M.J. did a double take. "C-child! I'm twenty, not twelve!"
The rat gave him a glare and suddenly M.J. wished he was somewhere else, preferably facing thirty Purple Dragons with both hands tied behind his back. Anything was better than being on the receiving end of that glare. "P-people c-call me M.J."
The rat nodded and went back to the cell. "The young man's name is M.J... No, Leonardo, he has not made himself to be a threat..." Leonardo? Like the painter? "...no, I see no way through the rubble. I seem to be located at..." The rat looked around, until he saw an old pipe with some markings on it. "Section three-six-JX. …yes, I know where it is. I shall meet you there. But be on your guard, there are bound to be more Foot ninjas about."
Did he just say foot ninjas?
The rat said his goodbye to his sons, grumbling a bit to himself as he searched for the off button. He placed the cell in his bathrobe after finding it, and then set his paws on his hips and looked down at M.J., somehow looking like a father about to scold his son.
"Well?" it… he… HE asked, looking like he was waiting for M.J. to do something.
"Uh...w-well, what?" M.J. asked nervously, silently hoping the rat wouldn't give that glare again.
"Are you not going to assist an elderly man to his cane?" the rat said, pointing at something up ahead. The dust was not as thick anymore and M.J. could now see a walking stick up ahead, lying on the floor.
"Uh... s-sure," M.J. responded, slowly pushing himself up and trying his best to ignore the protestations from his muscles. Upon standing up, M.J. suddenly felt a wave of dizziness and almost fell back to the floor, when he felt something supporting him. Looking down, he saw that it was the rat, one paw on his back as he leaned against him.
"It is this way," the rat said with a hint of impatience as he pointed towards the cane.
"...right." M.J. started walking towards the cane, the rat walking with him. It was then that M.J. noticed that the rat hobbled; an indication that one of his legs was either broken or sprained. He thought about asking if he was okay, but decided against it. Somehow, the rat struck him as the type who disliked admitting to or showing weakness.
The two walked up to the cane and the rat bent down to pick it up. A barely audible sigh of irritation came from the rat as he turned the wooden cane around, which was all battered and seemed on the verge of breaking in two. That did not, strangely enough, make the rat throw the cane away. Instead he held it in his right paw and once again leaned on M.J.
"Follow the path down and take the second turn to the right." The rat made it plain as day that he expected M.J. to help him walk towards wherever he was heading. M.J. did a double take, raised a finger to protest fiercely, opened his mouth and-
And the rat looked into his eyes, seemingly waiting to see what M.J. had to say.
"...right."
Saying nothing more, the two made their way down the tunnel.
20 minutes later...
"That way." The rat pointed to one of the four tunnel passages and M.J. started walking again. For the tenth time he glanced down at the rat while trying not to make it obvious, and for the sixth time he opened his mouth to say something. But once again nothing came out, and so he closed it again and swallowed saliva for the fourth time.
"You have questions." It was more of a statement than a question, and M.J. became twice as nervous when he realized that the rat must have somehow noticed all the glances.
"...uh, y-yeah, I... I do," responded M.J., mentally kicking himself for letting the nervousness creep into his voice.
"Quite understandable, young man. Ask, and I shall answer," replied the rat in that calm, wise-ass voice of his, making no hint he had heard M.J.'s nervous reply.
"W-well, I suppose the most obvious one is..." M.J. tried to think of a way to ask without sounding rude, but nothing came so he settled with frankness, "...what are you?"
"A mutant," the rat answered calmly, as if M.J. had just asked what time it was. "Turn left at the next turn."
"M-mutant? And those green dudes?"
"Mutated turtles. Turn right here."
Mutated turtles. Huh. I thought I saw something odd on their backs back there. It turns out it really was their backs.
"How many are you?"
"That I will not answer," replied the rat, with steel in his voice. M.J. got the message. He had over a ton of questions left, but had trouble selecting one as they took another left turn. Suddenly, M.J. remembered something.
"Hey, who were those guys you were fighting against back there?"
"Servants of an enemy that is determined to see us destroyed at any cost."
...is that guy cryptic by nature or choice?
"...oookay ...well, it looked like those gre-turtles knew how to handle 'em."
"Indeed, they have come a long way in their study of ninjitsu."
"Ni-what?"
"Ninjitsu, the art of a ninja."
"What, you mean like assassins?"
One moment M.J. was looking ahead to see where the next turn would appear, and then he blinked and was suddenly looking at the ceiling. But before he could ask the rat what was going on, the sensation of falling accompanied a bang as he landed hard on the floor, the air knocked out of his lungs. M.J. blinked and started to slowly get up, when the end of a wooden cane was pressed against his throat, forcing him down once more. The rat appeared above him, an angry look on his face and his grey fur standing erect.
"I will not tolerate someone comparing an old and honorable tradition to the likes of some cowardly thugs, who value their purse more than Honor! Your words are those of ignorance, and I hope you shall not make such a mistake again!" The rat hissed and M.J. could only stare at the unexpected fury, not even daring to blink. A few seconds passed and the cane pressed harder against his throat.
"Is that understood?" the rat asked again as M.J. gasped for air, his vision going blurry. A strangled cough came from his lips, and he tried his best to nod. The cane was removed and M.J. breathed in much needed air, coughing like mad as the pain in his eyes only increased.
M.J. looked up and saw an offered paw. Nervously eyeing the rat, he saw that much of his fury had left his eyes, though there was still a slight glow left in them. M.J. eyed the paw again, and then the rat, before hesitantly accepting the offered paw. Considering how small he looked, M.J. was surprised how strong the rat was as he nearly hoisted him up all by himself. The rat leaned against M.J. once more and pointed towards the passage ahead.
"Third turn to the right."