"Experiments on insanity."
Chapter 3
"Separation is not a good idea."
Leonardo's POV:
When the loading circle appeared on the screen, I had no idea what I was walking into.
Not a damn clue.
And I paid the price for it.
Like a fricking five year old, messing with a parent's laptop, I thought I'll see family pictures of the computer's previous owner.
I should have known this was not going to happen.
This is not the right place to expect something like this to accrue.
A murder mansion of some psychotic scientist, is no place for nice, cheerful family memories.
And you should have known that Leonardo. I thought at my own stupidity. After nearly seventeen years of training, I can't believe you're still as naïve as a five year old toddler.
I had no clue that what I was about to see was beyond anything I experienced so far, both as a ninja and a mutant.
Nothing, I repeat nothing, could prepare me for what was about to be forcefully burned into my memory like a fricking brand mark.
At the beginning it started off as innocently as every other "gallery" I saw before in my life. There was absolutely nothing wrong about it.
And that's exactly where I failed.
I let my guard down.
Entrusted a knife into an enemy's hand and turned my back to him, not expecting to get backstabbed at all.
Now… it feels as if I went straight to the Shredder, gave him all my weapons then made a long speech about all my weak points, still blindly trusting him to not use that knowledge against me.
Oh what an idiot I was.
The "gallery" had about a dozen separate folders, each having a colorful yet disturbing image on it that looked like it was drawn by a small child.
Every folder had a number and a color.
The palette started from dark, cold colors like purple, dark blue and green, then ended with hot colors like red, orange and yellow.
I realized too late that the colors represent something they weren't made for.
Something that's not meant to be cloaked in happy-go-lucky and innocent colors.
It was the results of the experiments.
AKA
What's was left of the humans they were made on.
And the fact that they were no older than me and Raph, wasn't helping at all.
Like a last dumbass I clicked the first folder, with a dark purple smiley face on it, open.
A mere second later...
I knew I wasn't going to sleep tonight.
The first picture represented a boy about my age with curly, black hair and large brown eyes, smiling brightly at the camera.
The kid's name was Aaron Winsor and he was a month older than me and my brothers are.
Like I said before…it started off like a normal picture gallery would.
The next one was where hell went loose.
All I could see was a mangled, naked body on a metal table, to disfigured to determine who it belonged to.
The only clue I got that it was the same boy, were the large brown eyes staring back at me.
But they weren't happy anymore.
Terrified, confused and in pain, maybe.
But not happy.
Not wanting to look at this sight any longer I clicked the arrow that lead to the next picture.
It was the same boy, only this time…he was standing.
Staring at me with white shining eyes and a large, as Mikey would call it, Joker-like smile.
He looked worse than when he was lieing down.
The boy's right hand was on the same level as his head, the left one sticking awkwardly from his hip, his waist was twisted so terribly it looked like it wanted to touch the head and his head was cooked to the right, as if he was wondering why my face looked so petrified.
Wait…
His head wasn't like that before.
I could feel my heart begin to beat faster as leaned in to inspect the picture, up close.
For a long while I didn't see anything wrong with it, I even began to think I'm turning insane when…
Aaron blinked.
I screamed so loud I fell of my chair.
My screams must have alerted Raph for I could feel a pair of strong arms begin to pull me upwards.
I looked up and begin to explain myself when…
I realized that…I was wrong.
The person holding me…was not Raphael.
When I saw the wide smile and blinding-white eyes…
I wished it was.
Raphael POV:
Groaning loudly I round-kicked the door again.
For being about a decade or more old, this door is pretty strong, considering the fact that it withstood the kicks of hardly trained ninjas, who are used to kicking open much heavier doors on a daily basis.
Though I should probably take that as a signal that "A fucking door beat us" and be all pissed about it, but I'm too nervous to be angry at the moment.
The fact that I can't round kick the door only tells me that…we're stuck here, till Donnie and Mikey decide they wanna have a search party for the two biggest run-away fanatics in the Hamato family.
Yeah I know what you're thinking: Dream on Raphie.
God I wish I told Casey I was going for this mission.
The nuttjob would be worried sick by now and go look for me himself.
Giving up on the front door, I decided to go check if there was a second way outside. Big warehouses usually had those in case of emergencies, like fire or flood…
Again I ignored the fact that information just popped in my head when I needed it, and moved in to check the room next to the main one.
It was called "Door XVII" and in my opinion it looked the newest. As if…it wasn't used before…
And that made my insides tight in worry.
This time the metal block was not locked, which made my inner alarms go crazy, as I pushed it open.
At first it looked like a regular checkup room in a hospital. With the white walls, little windows and white furniture.
Nothing strange here. One might say, but I was already fooled like that once. And everybody knows that tricks don't work two times around.
Preparing myself mentally for what I was about to witness, I made my stiff legs move towards the further end of the room.
What I saw made my insides twist so hard, I almost barfed.
There was a reindeer head trophy…with its horns piercing through a young scientist's body.
Most likely drowned by her own blood.
Red liquid dripping from the right edge of her mouth, as well as red tears that fell from the bullet hole in her forehead.
The majestic horns, once boney-white color, were now red, sticking out from her chest and belly. Ruining her white lab coat and black skirt with red lines, that weren't supposed to be there.
Blue glasses lied on the floor, with one glass broken and the other heavily covered in dry blood.
But the worst was the face.
Frozen in a silent scream of shock and terror, with a pair of warm dark-brown eyes that lost their warmth…forever.
I stood there, frozen like the time I watched the TV screen.
Unable to stop.
Unable to move.
Unable to run.
Unable to do as much as scream.
I was frozen by fear.
But my eyes weren't looking at the head.
Nor was I eyeing the wounds as a whole.
No. They were looking at the woman's chest.
It was moving.
