Don stood on the roof, scanning over the city. The ground that his feet were firmly planted on for the moment also happened to make up the ceiling of Ashley Grant's bedroom. He had no idea what he was supposed to do.
Sure enough he'd found the right person, but then what? The girl was only eighteen. He didn't want to scare her to death. If he hadn't been so preoccupied, he would have laughed at the irony.
The book had offered no help, even when directly asked. Neither had Morris – the damned cat hadn't stopped yowling and driving everyone nuts until a glaring Don had let him tag along, if it was even possible for a cat to do that.
The mammal in question wound around Don's ankles as he thought, causing him to look down. "Well?" the purple-banded ninja demanded, "What should I do?" Morris blinked and sat down. "Right."
Sighing, Don muttered to himself, "I have to get this over with. I'm a ninja, right? Ninjas are supposed to kill. Unfortunately." Personally Don avoided killing whenever possible, but with his new "job", that was now out the window.
Being careful of Morris, the ninja crept down onto the fire escape and peeked into Ashley Grant's darkened bedroom. He could see a form sleeping on the bed that he assumed to be her.
He slid the window open effortlessly. Don was surprised. He had expected a squeak, an alarm, for her to wake up…anything. But nothing happened, and just as easily he entered the bedroom. Crossing it, he came to stand beside Ashley Grant's bed, even more lost than before. Unsure what he was doing, he reached out a hand…
Her eyes popped open. Don froze, panicked, but it turned out he had nothing to be frightened of. Her clear blue eyes went right through him. She couldn't see him.
"Well…this makes things simpler," Don said to himself.
Ashley Grant shuddered, mentioned something about it being cold, and turned over, pulling the blankets over her head.
Again Don got a bit closer to the bed, and looked around for his companion. "Morris? Morris, where are…oh."
The pure black cat had leapt on to Ashley's bed, lightly walking up the mattress to where her head lay.
Morris bumped his head against hers. When it came back up, the cat was bathed in a light blue glow and Ashley Grant was dead.
Donatello looked sadly at her before turning his attention to the cat. "All you have to do is maintain physical contact?" The cat bowed its head in what looked like a nod.
-
When they returned to the lair long after everyone was asleep, Don picked the book up again and flipped to the next page.
Congratulations, you've collected your first soul! You'll need a box, preferably with a lock, to keep them in until they can be redistributed. An employee will come each month to empty the box.
The book flew across the room and hit the wall.
-
"You know, I think Donnie's a serial killer."
Leo's spoon froze mid-journey to his mouth. "What!?" He wasn't sure if he had rightly heard the words that had so casually spilled from his brother's mouth. "What makes you say that, Mikey?"
The orange-banded one nodded sagely. "Well, think about it Leo. He's pretty much secluded himself for a whole month. He's always asking us about people – and then those people he asks about turn up dead later! There's got to be a connection."
"Mikey, Don is not a serial killer!"
"Oh yeah? Sometimes stuff is missing from the dead people's houses, and it ends up in April's shop! Explain that!"
"That happens all the time. Relatives sell their inheritances sometimes."
"He has a creepy box in his room that he doesn't want anyone to touch. Bet there's human ears in it."
"Bet there's something breakable in it that he's hiding from you, mister I-can-break-something-without-even-touching-it. Come on, do you really think Don is capable of killing someone out of self-defense?"
"It's always the quiet ones, bro."
The two brothers fell silent as Don entered the kitchen himself. Even if he wasn't out serial killing, Leo had no idea what Don had been doing at night for the past month. What he did know was it took a lot out of him. His gentle brother almost always seemed tired, and once, during practice, Leo could've sworn he was on the verge of tears.
"Morning Donnie," he greeted quietly.
Don jumped nearly a mile in the air. "Oh. Good morning, Leo. Mike."
"You missed practice…"
Donnie seemed surprised at that. "I did!?" Quickly he checked the clock on the microwave, "Why didn't you wake me up?"
"Splinter figured you could use the sleep." Leo quirked an eyeridge, "Honestly Donnie, whatever you do at night, couldn't you give it a rest? It's going to start really hurting you. I know you're not working – you haven't invented or fixed anything for a month."
Don was shaking his head. "It's just…insomnia. Can't sleep. Sometimes it's nice to go out…"
"Donatello."
The younger turtle sighed. "So. What's for breakfast, Mikey?"
Leo sat back and frowned as Mikey happily chattered about food. He knew Don, and when Don didn't want to talk about something, he changed the subject. But that could hardly work all the time. Something was going on with Donnie, and Leo was going to find out what.
Don could just see Leo's frown out of the corner of his eye. He'd have to be careful around him – once Leo set his mind on something, there was no turning back.
'You're wrong about one thing, Leo,' Don thought to himself, 'I have definitely been working.'
