Chapter 20- Blurring Lines

"Leatherhead!"

The echo of my name crosses between Michelangelo and I long before my friend closes that same distance. I crawl into an elevated drainage line and tuck myself into the corner, back against a grate. I measure my ragged breathing.

'Please my friend, leave me, unsafe too dangerous stay away'

A vibration in my throat precedes an involuntary growl. I twist my head toward the grate and stifle it. I hear my friend racing nearer, my pulse matching his pace. I pull my tail in closer, away from the drain's overhang. The beast salivates.

'Prey approaches'

I shudder and will my body into stillness. Michelangelo's approach slows, pausing just outside my impromptu burrow.

'No! No prey, no predators not here'

My friend calls my name again.

"Leatherhead! C'mon, you didn't do anything! You just woke up cranky, that's all. None of us got hurt!"

The beast opens his mouth. I take a grip of the creature's jaw and force the malevolent maw away from Michelangelo.

'Don't understand Michelangelo wasn't I wasn't awake didn't see home saw the nightmare- I saw...'

A silent struggle between mind and primal instinct keeps my pulse pounding in my head. Each second that passes sees me wearier, my alertness harder to maintain. I wrestle his face toward the grate, holding his eyes shut. I hope for the sound of my friend walking away from here. The beast squirms, but though I tire, I hold my grasp.

'Prey approaches, intruders- Silence'

Another rumble in my throat warns me of a second growl. My friend finally resumes on his way, yet the beast remains insistent on practicing enunciation. My capability to restrain him weakens in direct proportion to my waning adrenaline. The rumbling boils and intensifies. I release the creature's jaw and chomp down on the rusty, metallic grate. The discomfort briefly pierces through my fatigue and buoys me into awareness- but only for a moment. The grate muffles the beast's guttural yell, and I listen to my friend's tread continue away from me until he has gone. I breathe, and my body slumps down with all its weight. My concentration floats down into a veiling haziness. The beast, still awake, quiets down, and my resistance against the fog dissolves.

'No-no sleeping, move'

My limbs feel heavy. Slumber makes a persuasive counterargument. I slide gradually downward, surrendering to the needs of the body.

'INTRUDERS!'

The beast bellows, his eyes snapping open. The grate rattles with violence as the creature gurgles and writhes. I am still deep in the fog, wading through the swamp of my fatigue, groping about for consciousness.

'Seconds, minutes, hours- when, who from where'

The beast frees his mouth from the grate. I hear footsteps drawing nearer, advancing from whence I'd heard my friend depart.

'Territory invaded-'

He narrows his eyes and slows his breathing. I hear the approach.

'Michelangelo- cannot be'

I think I hear the tread of several rather than of one. Each footfall follows the previous with rhythmic synchronicity. Yet my mind continues wallowing in marsh. I shut my eyes.

'Intruders come... closer'

I summon the minimal concentration I possess and focus on the input from my non-ocular senses. I think I can still hear something approaching, but my mind receives no other sensory information that might affirm any presence not my own. The swamp in my mind deepens and the haze thickens. Within it, I hear also the sound of my night terrors.

'No. Not real not listening not anymore I can't hear you not listening'

The footsteps persist. I press my hands to my ears. I squeeze my eyes shut tighter, yet I can see the horrors. Where there had been nothing but dampness and waste before, I can smell the burning, the open wounds now. The creature shivers, stills himself though his anticipation is virtually tangible. Inside the fog, fear speaks.

'It's him! He's here and come after me! He tricked me, sought me, disguised himself as a friend and he was in my home now he knows that I know and he's here, nearly here'

Cold moisture escapes my eyes and runs down in rivulets on my face. I dig my hands into my skull's skin pressing tighter, but I can't shut out the panic screaming at me in the fog. I yell back into the gloom.

'NO! He's not here, far away from here, from me, safe here nobody can cut me stick me burn me here'

The footsteps keep coming, they are nearly upon me. The beast shouts.

'INTRUDERS!'

Fear drapes over me, shuts out the mist. It tries stifling my voice. It slowly suffocates me, drowns me in the swamp. The beast tries roaring, but he's denied by my vocal impotency. He flails in aggravation, but only succeeds in making me sink faster.

'I can't prove that he isn't here, can't really deduce for certain which was the nightmare and which reality'

The bog nearly has me. I know the creature can liberate me, but I am shaking too much. I can still, I think, hear the footsteps, thundering right beside my head, on top of me. I plead that they pass me by, deem me unworthy of their attention.

'Shut up nothing's there's no one there, only me, can't hear you're alone LEAVE ME ALONE'

The beast shreds apart fear's prison and surges out of the swamp, furious and vengeful for being contained. I open my eyes, take my hands from my head and smash myself out of the drain pipe. A gurgling bellow echoes in the dank air about me.

'Challengers- intruders gone'

I sweep my head to and fro in sudden, snapping motions, the creature daring that someone appear. My shoulders heave with each ragged breath. Slowly, the panic subsides. I whisper, reason things out.

"There was never any threat here. Michelangelo must have been retracing his path past here. Of course."

I regard the tunnels I heard the footsteps take, and I amble in the opposing direction. The monster- rather, my primitive rage- still churns inside my stomach.