Well, now it is Raph's turn. Thanks to Leo112 and Royal Frog :)
If I owned them...Raph would not be a happy camper.
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Chapter 3, Part 3: What Bugs Raph?
Raph found himself wading almost waist deep in a darkened sewer tunnel. As his sight adjusted, he could see a couple of feet in front of him. He could feel someone...something watching him, moving with him. But whatever it was, stayed out of his line of sight.
He twisted and turned in the tunnel, trying to catch a glimpse. It felt as though it was toying with him as it maunuvered skillfully away from his vision. It was close...so close.
"Hello?" His voice echoed in the tunnel.
A hiss of a laugh passed his ears.
He pictured Michelangelo somewhere in the distance, his hand covering his mouth to suppress the giggles.
"Alright, Mikey, enough is enough," he called out.
Silence carried on a wind that was not meant to be down in the tunnel.
"Mikey?"
Worry knotted in his gut. The sensation turned dangerous...blood thirsty.
"This ain't funny!" he growled and punched the wall.
He heard a faint whisper, "It's not meant to be..."
"Who's there? Leo?"
Icy chills ran up his neck.
"Don?"
The darkness slithered around him like a serpent. Closer and closer, until he could only see inches in front of him. He swallowed thickly and threw his arm out to reach for the sewer wall. He could follow it out.
His hand connected with the damp concrete and he let out a sigh of relief. He inched forward, sliding his hand across his slimy lifeline.
Suddenly he felt something skitter up his arm.
"Ugh!" he grunted and swatted whatever it was, only to have the same sensation run across his neck.
"What the shell..." He shook his head and pushed himself from the wall.
He was unable to suppress the girlie scream, worthy of Mikey, when he felt dozens of creepy crawlies fall on his body. He stumbled back, sloshing the water all over himself.
"Get...offf!" he growled, smacking various parts of his body.
But his hands couldn't move fast enough. Every time he swept something off, it was replaced just as quick. They were falling from the ceiling of the tunnel, making sickening bloop, plop, plop sounds as they hit the water. They would then cling to Raphael like a lifeboat, skittering up his legs, chest and arms. The were all over him, crawling, buzzing, chirping. He felt his body being covered by thousands of little scampering legs. They were crawling over his eyes and into his shell. He kept his lips tightly clamped for fear of them going into his mouth. He could feel them boring their way in between his tightly pursed lips, trying to enter his mouth. Nausea crept over him and he clenched his teeth, as an added barrier to keep from tasting them.
He felt the panic roll in his stomach as the sensation grew more intense. They were in a frenzy...stinging, clawing, biting. He stumbled blindly through the tunnel as more and more insects fell on him. He lost his footing and tumbled face first into the murky water. Out of instinct his mouth opened to scream. But instead of sound coming out, a rush of insects and sewer water went in. He shook his head violently and tried to pry what bugs that he could out of his mouth with his hands. But it was no use, a sea of hairy legs and slimy bodies pushed and clawed their way to the back of his mouth and down his throat.
Raph drew in a loud, pained breath as he opened his eyes. He was hanging halfway out of his hammock, one foot tangle in the mesh and his head on the cold, concrete floor. He was still struggling and flailing, it took him a moment to realize that he was not choking on a horde of insects. He stared up at his ceiling as it swirled around him, his breath coming out in labored gasps.
He could breath.
He wasn't drowning.
His hand trembled as he quickly untangled his foot. He rolled over and pushed himself up onto his hands and knees. It sounded like his heart was hooked up to a loud speaker. He could hear in thumping in his ears, he just knew it was going to wake his brothers. He slowly stood up and walked toward the door.
Still swatting at his arms and head, he shakily made his way to the bathroom. Nausea rolled over him in waves and he held tight to the counter to keep from toppling over. His knuckles turned pale as they gripped the edges of the counter and he coughed and hacked. Phantom legs and bodies still tickled his throat.
He moved to the shower and turned the knob. He set the water as hot as his skin could stand and climbed in. He scrubbed his arms and legs vigorously, until the skin reddened.
He then leaned his head against the cool tile, a disgusted moan and half sob escaped his lips. He let the hot water rush over him and send the awful sensation of being infested down the drain.
...Stronger and faster the black cloud slid into the next room. The red clad turtle was such a wonderful feed, the anger and frustration mixed with the fear that radiated off of him satisfied the dark shade...but there was one more.
Quickly rolling onto the last turtle's bed, the entity wrapped itself around him...
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Anyone need a can of Raid? Next part will be up soon...