Episode 14: Enter Dimension X – Part 3
Pink flooded every corner of the room. Mutagen glow mingled with it, throwing the room into a chaos of light. Canisters like giant jugs sat suspended from the air. Sam counted three in total and all of them were full to the brim with mutagen. The glass made it easy to see – and these glass canisters had to be the size of a small house. The warehouse was four floors and Sam was on the top one, his weapon sat in his black-gloved hand, his mask over his face. He stared down at the Kraang as the robots moved from one side of the room to the other, scurrying about, pressing their touch screen computers and squealing at one another excitedly every now and again.
Although he had sat perched her for an hour listening to them talk in their usual scrambled way, he had heard nothing about the turtles, nor did he hear anything about April like he had before. It seemed they were busy getting ready for something else. That could not bode well for him and his three new friends. Something had to be done. He gazed up at the mutagen tanks with his dark eyes and began to calculate. There had to be a way to destroy the mutagen without getting himself in contact with it and without making it a disaster zone for any human that crossed this warehouse on a regular basis.
I wonder if I could rig their computer to contaminate the ooze somehow. Even as he thought, he brushed it away. He was very experienced in computers, but not enough that he would be able to figure out a Kraang computer within a few seconds, although the challenge sounded exciting. He slowly moved his eyes back down the row of Kraang droids that were now busying themselves in the corner with something too small for Sam to be able to see. Sam quickly turned to his phone and typed a quick text message to group text Jess, Ethan, and Kaela. He put in the address to the warehouse and then typed: Kraang outpost. May be promising.
Suddenly the whole room went quiet and Sam turned his attention back to the corner of Kraang. A screen had appeared in mid-air, displaying a huge brain who stared out at all of them. Sam shrunk back further into shadow to make sure he wasn't seen. The monster Kraang spoke. "Kraang, the second in command known as Kraang Sub-Prime is preparing that which is known as the technodrome army for the invasion known as the invasion of earth. Soon, we will begin the terraforming of the planet known as Earth. While we wait, continue to look for the ones known as the turtles and April O'Neil."
Well that doesn't sound good at all.
Sam's heart fell. They had no idea where the turtles or April O'Neil was. Which meant that once again, he was back to square one. That also meant that he had to head out quickly. Just as he began to slink his way back towards the nearest window to jump from, he heard a strange noise, almost like liquid bubbling and then he turned back. A huge triangle had appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. It was huge, Kraang colored pink, and something giant was coming out of it. "What's this?" Sam whispered to himself quietly.
The first thing to appear from the strange portal was a human face. Black hair with purple highlights, horn rimmed glasses and a beauty mark on the side of their nose. But the next parts were all mechanical. Sam's eyes widened as a giant metal body unveiled itself from the color, ripping through like some sort of nightmarish cyborg. Random human body parts – an arm, a leg, stuck out in odd places. In the center was a Kraang with a strange spinning eye scope, a tattoo and a large scar across it's face. "Get outta my way!" It yelled in perfect, yet entirely rude English. The other Kraang droids moved. One of them said, "Kraang desires to know when the next step known as the next step will be initiated by Kraang."
The huge monolith of a Kraang turned to face the one who spoke to him and with one of the tiny human hands, picked it up by the neck and shook it. The blobby Kraang spoke again. "Who the heck do you think you are? I'm Kraang Sub-Prime! I don't report so some stupid Kraang droid!" He threw the droid across the ground and the Kraang in the suit screamed and burst from it's suit, running in the other direction. Maybe this thing has some ideas to where April is. Sam thought hopefully. He slowly inches his way across the walkway as Kraang Sub-Prime began to spend a significant amount of his time yelling at the other droids. Sam kept his ear open the whole time but nothing they said was about April or the turtles, so Sam continued on his way to the edge and then, making sure nobody was looking his way, flipped up over the banister and down to the third floor to hear a little better. Not that Sub-Prime's yelling was incredibly difficult to hear.
"We've been looking for that dumb girl for weeks now and you still haven't found anything!" he yelled. "What have you been doing then? We can't power up our terraformers again without her!" Sam took a mental note of that in his head and he slowly lowered himself down to the second floor. After this Kraang Sub-Prime was done giving information that he needed, he was going to make sure a shurikan met his blubbery face.
"That which is known as an intruder!"
Sam froze as he let himself go and landed on the second floor. A Kraang droid was pointing up directly at him, and Sub-Prime turned to see where the droid was pointing to. Their eyes met and the scope on his left eye extended as if it were zooming towards him. "Well, well, another ninja. Whatever." The sound of energy building echoed in the warehouse and Kraang Sub-Prime pointed his arm which had slid backward to reveal a cannon directly at Sam. He jumped out of the way just in time as the beam shot out and blew off the railing with a loud bang and flash of color and smoke. Sam wrenched out his three sectioned staff simultaneously and flipped it expertly through the air. "You think you're pretty hot stuff, but I'm going to blow your stupid face up!" Sub-Prime snapped, his eye narrowing to near slits from anger.
"Why do you talk like that?" Sam asked, pulling the mask away from his face.
Sub-Prime didn't waste time responding and fired again. Sam jumped from the second floor onto the main floor, twisting his weapon around him to rebound two Kraang attacks. "You idiots!" Sub-Prime yelled, looking around at other droids. "Shoot him!" Immediately the Kraang droids obeyed, pulling up their black, sleek guns and firing rapidly and with seemingly little order. The lasers flew in every direction, zapping the wall, the ceiling, the floor, the railings, leaving black scorch marks behind. But Sam had trained dodging shurikans with people that actually aimed and moving through these was simple. He flipped through the lasers, balancing on his hands only, then his feet again and he spun through the air, doing a full 360 before he saw an opening. He leaped forward and swung his three sectioned staff. It rattled through the air and slammed into Sub-Prime's face.
He screamed, spitting up something that looked like a yellowed mucus and then he swung his huge arms forward, the sound of buzz-saws ringing in Sam's ears. He dodged, jumping backward and nearly getting hit by another volley of lasers. Looks like Sub-Prime is a lot more capable then his idiot servants. Sam danced out of the way of another laser and, seeing another opening, jumped forward. Sub-Prime may be a power house, but he moves like a bloated buffalo. He struck and slammed Sub-Prime again, his weapon spinning around behind his back and then slamming him forward in the face again. But Sam had gotten too cocky.
One of the lasers struck his shoulder.
He winced, the wound feeling like his shoulder had been set aflame and he rolled out of the way along the floor as one of Sub-Prime's violet buzz-saws crashed into the metal flooring, throwing tile in every direction along with a violent shower of sparks.
When you take a fall, retreat – don't put on a brave face. Get out and get out quick. The advice his father had given him rang in his ears, but Sam wasn't a particular fan of that advice. He jumped back to his feet, ignoring the fiery burn and he jumped up just as the buzz-saw nearly chopped him in half. He landed with perfect timing on Sub-Prime's arm and taking out a blade from his boot and giving it a spin for flare, he slammed it into one of the metal joints, cutting the arm from Sub-Prime's body. Just as the other arm came to grab him, he jumped again and running up Sub-Prime's side, he flipped off his creepy human head and brought his foot down hard on the pink, fleshy brain of the Kraang.
"GAH!" Sub-Prime yelled and just as Sam landed in front of him, another laser hit his ankle and he gasped in pain as he fell to the ground. "I'll make you pay for that, lowly insect!" Sub-Prime snatched Sam from the ground and before he could recover, Sam felt himself flying through the air and then his back slammed into one of the nearby screens, shattering it.
Glass embedded into his back and he felt his breath vanish from his lungs as he hit the ground, limp. "That's what you get for ripping my stinkin' arm off!" Sam heard the monster yell and then he heard the clanging of his robotic feet.
Trying to right himself, Sam got onto all fours. His arm, his shoulder, and his back were all screaming in pain. A hand closed around him and he felt himself get lifted off the ground. "And I'm not done just yet. Are ya thirsty? 'Cause I got a nice cool drink of mutagen for ya!"
Don Vizioso took another long, lingering bite of his steak. His belly was plump enough that he felt constricted in his large armchair that sat in front of a mahogany table. Wine, a plate of steaks, rolls, corn, spaghetti with meat balls, a cheese platter, and a large golden cup sat in front of him. His gray suit was now covered with tomato sauce stains. The smell of cheap wine hung in the dark room, lighted only by a few old fashioned lights that hadn't been replaced since the forties. His fellow gang members, five in all, surrounded the table, butcher knives, switch blades, and a few guns were hidden beneath their similar suits, although theirs were much cleaner. Perched on their heads were fedora hats to match the usual mafia look.
Don liked to eat. That was by far one of his favorite things to buy in his opinion and so a large portion of the earnings they got from killing, kidnapping, and stealing went towards their grocery budget. He took another large bite and chomped loudly, the taste of the meat filling his stomach made him smile.
And it was at this time that for the first time in years – or perhaps ever – someone knocked at the door. Don stared at the large, red wood door at the other end of the room. Only the sound of his record player could be heard in the background echoing one of his favorite songs that included a rather shrill violin off the walls. Nobody knows of my headquarters without getting cut up by my men after. Don thought grumpily. Finally he nodded to one of his five men, Rodriguez, to go get the door. Looking curiously at the door and pulling out a hand gun, he walked across the musty red carpet and slowly opened the door. "What do you want?" Rodriguez said with his usual thick Brooklyn accent.
Don couldn't see who was in the doorway, but heard a voice speak: "I've come to visit Don Vizioso. Is he here?" The voice was incredibly polite, but pierced the air like an icy wind.
"Who is it?" Don yelled across the room. Rodriguez looked back with an expression on his face that Don couldn't read. Fear? Nervousness? Curiosity? It was hard to tell. He stepped out of the way to reveal the person who had knocked on their door.
It was a man – or at least, Don guessed it was a man. It was hard to tell as he was wearing a black, glassy mask, as if made of chrome. Red designs like veins, or perhaps vines covered it it. There was a space for the eyes to show, but none for the mouth. In the two pits were icy blue eyes. A hood covered the figures head and scarfs wrapped around their neck and down their back. They wore black armor that covered their forearms, their chest, and their calves. The rest was dark colored material. Their side were two katana blades, sheathed in sapphire blue.
Don raised an eyebrow as the figure slowly walked in. Rodriguez followed behind, his gun still out, now pointed at the intruder. "Didn't you hear me?" Don asked, wiping at his face with his sleeve. "Who are you?"
The figure stopped in front of the table just as the bus boy poured another glass of wine into the golden cup and Don grabbed it and guzzled the whole thing, hoping to intimidate his guest. The figure watched patiently with their cold eyes and then, after a burp, they spoke again – his voice was undoubtedly that of a man. "You may call me Lord Nightshade for now."
"Lord?" Don scoffed.
"Mm, yes."
Then, Don remembered, "Oh yeah!" he said grinning and grabbing at one of the steak knives next to him and viciously stabbing it into the rare meat, the inside still bleeding. "Your big, grizzly bear friend came in the other day and said he'd been watching us and that is master Nightshade wanted to recruit me and my crew." he laughed and took a vicious bite from the leathery meat. Lord Nightshade continued to watch in his steely mask, his eyes unblinking. "That's you then, ain't it? Well, I got bad news for you. I work under Shredder's employ."
"I'm well informed." Lord Nightshade replied coolly. "I'm here to buy you, Don Vizioso, and your followers."
Don snorted again as his drink was filled up again and he drank another large gulp and coughed – the taste a bit more sweet than what he was used to. "Oh?" he asked. "You better be paying big bucks if you want me to turn my back on someone as dangerous as Shredder."
Lord Nightshade chuckled lightly as if he had just told a humorous joke. "You'll find me and my disciples to be much more of a threat. And I am not paying in meager cash." Then Lord Nightshade leaned in a little closer, his hand on the handle of his katana. "The price that I will pay you, is that you will get to keep your life. At least for now."
Don glared and scrunched his face up. Whose this guy to walk in and threaten me like that? Don slammed his knife into the steak again. "Tough guy, then?" he snapped. "Boys, show this bozo that he can't come in here and mess with us." The two on either side of him pulled out a switch blade, a butcher knife, a steak knife and a gun and they grinned at each other, their neatly polished weapons giving off a glare as they reflected yellow light.
Lord Nightshade didn't flinch.
Rodriguez pulled his gun up to point directly at the back of Lord Nightshade's neck and, as if in slow motion, Don watched as, quick as lightning, Nightshade moved and swapped the gun from Rodriguez' fingers. By the time that Devin fired his own weapon with a bang! Nightshade had moved out of the way and the bullet hit Rodriguez in the leg and he fell to the ground screaming.
Don's mouth dropped open.
A blade flew through the air so quickly that Don barely caught that Nightshade had pulled it from one of his scarfs. It pierced Devin in the hand and he dropped his gun which clattered against the floor. Devin screamed in pain, clutching his bleeding hand, the blade protruding from it. Corban, Kristoff, and Duke ran to attack, their own weapons gleaming as they raised for an attack. As soon as Corban got into range with his butcher knife, Nightshade ducked and slammed the pommel of his katana into his stomach and he doubled over and fell to the floor.
Moving with almost unnatural agility and grace, the masked enemy snatched the butcher knife in mid-air, twirling between slashes from Duke's steak knife and Kristoff's switchblade and he ducked down, sweeping his arm in a long slice and cutting the back of Duke's legs on the back side of his thigh. He fell to the ground with a cry, his steak knife rolling against the ground.
Nightshade dropped the butcher knife. The stroke had been so perfect that only a thin line of blood ran perfectly linear on the blade's edge. Kristoff slammed his fist at Nightshade, but it was blocked by his gleaming black armor on his forearm and the crunch of bone made it clear that his knuckles had just been broken. Kristoff yelled, but went to stab Nightshade with his switchblade right in the eye of his mask but with a solid stroke, Nightshade caught the blade with his other forearm's bracer and then he slammed again, breaking his other hand and causing the switchblade to fall to the ground with a final glimmer in the light.
Like a striking snake, he grabbed Kristoff by the neck and hurled him across the room. He slammed into the wall and fell, quiet to the ground, eyes closed.
Lord Nightshade then flipped his scarfs back behind him and turned to face Don as if their conversation hadn't been interrupted at all.
"You just – you just . . ." Don tried to find words but his hands were shaking and heat was rising in his stomach that made him sweat.
"I just incapacitated all of your men." Lord Nightshade said. "Regrettable, as these five will be out of my commission until they can heal." he turned to look at the four, some of them dead silent, others still whimpering from pain. Don stared at Lord Nightshade in disbelief. He didn't even draw his swords! He glanced at the weapons at the man's waist. "Now," Lord Nightshade continued, "I will ask you a final time – turn your back on that treacherous cur known as Oroku Saki and join the Shinotomo Clan."
Don glanced at his men a single time and then where the bus boy had been – but the boy was gone. He must have run. Don thought. Traitor. A stabbing pain had begun in Don's chest and, gasping a little he said, "Yes, fine. We are yours now."
Lord Nightshade nodded in approval. "Now, follow my instructions exactly as I give them to you." he said, his voice muffled behind his mask. "You have exactly one hour to gather all of your men and belongings from this building and then bring them to the abandoned warehouse behind the Eric Sach's tower."
The pain grew in his chest and he tried to speak, but it only came out in a croak. "Why?"
"Exactly an hour from this moment, this building will be blown to a thousand pieces. If Oroku Saki is as much of a fool as believe, he will think you are dead. If not, then it will serve as a warning to him of what is to come to the Foot and the Hamato Clan."
Don could feel his whole body shaking and sweat was dripping onto his already dirty table cloth. "Then you will await further orders. You will do nothing until I tell you to." Lord Nightshade stepped forward and placed something on the table. When he uncovered his hand, there was tiny glass bottle filled with clear liquid. Don picked it up with shaking hands, the pain in his chest getting worse as Lord Nightshade turned his back on him and slowly made his way back to the door.
"What's this?" Don managed to get out.
"An antidote." Lord Nightshade said with his pleasant, icy voice. "For the poison that was in your wine." The masked figure paused in the doorway. "Aren't you glad that you agreed to join me before you were choking on death?" He then slowly closed the door behind him as Don gasped and forced the vial of liquid down his throat. The pain vanished within a few minutes, but Don's impression of Lord Nightshade never would.