Shell Shocked

Disclaimer: I do not own TMNT

Chapter 3: Not alone

Mutant Girl's POV

Cold, hungry, and tired . . . that is what I've been feeling the last few days. Ever since Casey Jones kicked my ass, my pride has been bruised to a pulp. At least I can walk down Time Square with all the other wackos who dress up in mascot outfits of today's children's media. At least it gets me a few extra bucks when somebody asks me to take a picture. Some sort of show has the lizard people in several episodes: Doctor something or whatever and Star Trek.

"Nice costume!" a Tourist would say.

If only it were a costume.

I used the money to buy a hotdog and a water bottle. It's cheaper than the fast-food joint, let alone out in the open, where the disguise worked. Yet the food doesn't satisfy me. Somehow, I'm always hungry but, at the same time, not hungry. It must be a lizard thing. Yet I try to force myself to eat, since starving affected my mood in lack of protein, if not nutrition.

As for the weather, I could depict it as late Fall. However, here in the Big Apple, it felt like winter. Practically cold when standing in the shade, the wind picking up, or cars driving. My body hated the cold that occasionally would freeze up or stiffen. When I feel this, I sneak into a train station or some public facility that doesn't discriminate against people's appearance. But I usually stayed under the bridge next to the warm pipe.

I sighed, rubbing my hands together before tucking them under my armpits. The temperature is about thirty degrees Fahrenheit. I saw the newspaper to discover it was in early November. In other words, it's gonna be cold with this erratic city's behavior, especially Manhattan. It seems impossible to leave this city. Great, what am I going to do. I can't thrive as a homeless person or get a cheap job looking like this.

I took deep breaths so my emotions didn't go out of whack! I tried to think of a solution. Sooner or later, this area will be filled with people, including security guards, for the upcoming Thanksgiving Parade. But my biggest fear is the Foot Clan. They did this to me or sold me to an insane scientist. Once they catch wind of this, there is no doubt they'll be hunting me down. So my options are to leave the area or hide. And I hardly had any money to leave, so hiding was the only option.

But where to go? It's not like I can go to the police and ask for witness protection. Practically everyone is a target of the Foot Clan. Scratch abandoned buildings since people occasionally live, hide, or do drugs there. Unless I'm building-jumping, it's not a safe choice. Then there is the subway system. There are secluded areas for the protection of the general public. But I doubt it, not wanting to be struck by a train. Options number three . . . the sewers.

I had to shudder at the thought of living in the sewers. I mean, it's the sewers, as in garbage, waste, and who knows what else is down there. Hell, there could be alligators and worse . . . rats. I despised rats with a passion. Also, let's not forget about methane gas and other chemicals that could probably mutate me into having another head or tail. So going with my options... . sewers got the better vote.

God, I hate my life right now, I thought.

With a deep breath, I got up, heading to the closest alley to find a manhole cover. When I got to one in an empty alleyway, I looked left to right, all around, to ensure nobody was around before lifting the iron circle. At least this mutation allowed me to be stronger. Otherwise, this would be difficult if I were still human. Doing another check to be sure, I climbed down and then slid the cover over me.

I dropped down, falling about fifteen feet till landing roughly on a puddle. A shudder of disgust went up my spine, smelling the sewage.

Come on, girl, you'll have to get used to the stench if you're gonna live here. I told myself.

Taking a deep breath and crossing my fingers, I explore the sewers hoping to find a dry location to call home. As I walked, I could hear the flow of water, the constant drips, and other sounds that you would think were waterfalls. And then I listen to it, the pitter-patter of tiny feet squeaking away.

Shoot me now. I mentally cried. Just shoot me.

Making another turn in the tunnel, to see a bunch of rodents piling around garbage. Deep down, I'm screaming like a little girl, but instead of continuing in that direction, I make a quick beeline for the next tunnel.

Rats, why did it have to be rats? I groaned mentally.

Quickly I walked away from the area, having a slight nervous breakdown. Once I was sure I was far away from the rats, I sat down, legs pressed against my chest, ready to cry. Why can't I get this fear under control? In fact, I do not know why I'm afraid of rats! I just am.

A few tears fell as I whimpered at this stupid musophonia. Other than people hating rats, I am still determining how I got it. I mean, they're small, hairy, and have naked tails. And let's not forget the trouble they cause in transferring the plague.

Once I got my bearing, I sat listening to New York City's sewer system. That is until I heard something that shouldn't be in the sewer. It sounded like wheels on cobblestones and music? What the hell is going on? Deciding to investigate this, I got up, following the music. Seriously, who could be down here playing music? Unless it was Sewage workers or whatever you call people who work underground.

At the end of the tunnel was a chamber. A large open room filled with crates, plywood, and sports equipment. Four kids on scooters and skateboards seemed to be riding on a makeshift half-pipe. All are goofing around while the smallest one sings along to Gwen Stefani on the radio.

I approached the radio, picked it up, and pressed the off button. Instantly all four kids stopped to turn around to see me. I couldn't see them clearly from the poor lighting, but they all appeared roughly around five feet tall, tannish or dark skin, wearing hammy down clothing and sports gear. For a moment, I consider them a bunch of preteens who finally struck the first stages of puberty.

"You kids…. shouldn't….be here," I managed to say. My voice was hoarse from lack of care, almost sounding like a guy. "Go home."

All four stood there in utter shock.

"Guys, we've been caught." One wearing glasses whispered.

"Dad's not gonna like this." Another said.

"What should we do?" the small one asked.

"Go home," I answered, irritated.

"I got this," the broad one grumbled, approaching me. He pulls something out of his pants, pulling out two long knives.

My eyes widened upon seeing the two weapons.

"No, Raph!" the second one said, jumping in front of the kid with the knives. He stopped right in front of him, back turned, exposing himself under the light.

I gasped at seeing not a kid but, but, but . . . no words could describe it. He was about five feet tall, with green scaly patch skin, a turtle shell on his back, with two leather straps holding thin swords. The boy cursed as he turned around, facing me, arms up.

"Wait, don't freak out. It's a . . . a. . ."

"A costume!" the kid in glasses finished. "Movie makeup, see?"

He came out looking exactly like the other kid, only having obsolete electrical objects on his shell. In one hand, he had a staff; in the other, he held a camera. The other two came out though the smaller one had nunchucks. My eyes examined them for any flaw in makeup for a kid to create. However, there was no scent of paint on them nor advanced makeup material.

They, they, they are… I thought, baffled.

I stumbled back, tripping on my tail, causing the boys to flinch. The hat stumbled off, the scarf unraveled, and the bottom of the trench coat opened. Before I could cover myself, they, too, gasped at seeing my mutant form. Quickly I got up and started running.

"No, wait!" they shouted out. "Come back!"

"I'll get 'im," Raph growled, chasing after me.

I ran as fast as I could, jumping over streams and ledges. But I couldn't get away from the kid called Raph. He was in full throttle chasing after me. Making a sharp turn, he tripped, tumbling over his feet. Not looking back, I continued to run, praying there was a good area I could hide. There was a glimpse of natural light at the edge of the tunnel. The river. I just need to get there and jump.

"Dude, hold up!"

"Where did he go?"

"This way!"

Sadly, fate hated me as I stopped at the sewage pipe's opening only to discover it had been barred. Damn it! I was trapped as I looked out to find myself not in front of the Hudson River. But in front of the factories near the docks, open to the public. Shit, it's either face these freaks or face these freaks. I could escape if I turned around to take the next tunnel.

"Found ya!"

Before I could turn around, I was slammed by four masses of mutant turtles. The amount of thrust from the impact caused us to fall back into the bars. My head banged on the iron so hard that everything went black.

.o0o.

Splinter's POV

Splinter could hear the commotion a mile away as he scurried through the sewers looking for his sons. His fear has risen at the thought that a human has spotted them. But most importantly, Eric Sacks or the Shredder got a hold of them. Never in his life would he consider it to be the time. They have lived in the sewers secretly, almost discretely learning the art of ninjitsu for thirteen years. He has kept secrets from his children, but now is not the time.

Using his nose, he followed their scents till reaching the specific area he told the turtles not to go to. With his katana in hand, he marched over to the light to see what seemed to be the problem. What he found made him second-guess everything.

The four turtles were huddled up against a person who seemed to be unconscious. Although Raphael and Leonardo were arguing, Donatello checked the person's vitals. As for Michelangelo, he was poking his nunchucks at a large mass of a tail.

A tail? Splinter thought, coming over to the unconscious person.

He knelt next to Donatello, placing his hand over the coat revealing the individual's face. The rat's eyes widened after seeing a lizard mutant. For a moment, he thought this person was here from his sons. But as he checked the nice gash on the creature's head, he smelt mutagen.

"Um, dad," Michelangelo started.

Splinter looked at his youngest son, then where he was pointing at. The tail was covered in bullet wounds, lacerations, and infection. Examining the new mutant, he can see more bullet wounds on her legs and blood stains on her shoulders. A slight relief and sympathy filled the rat in discovering a new mutant. What had his pity was the poor child going through such an experience as he smelt human mixed in the blood. As he got a better look seeking the curves of the mutant's chest, and long hair, he assumed the individual was female.

Sheathing his katana, he looked at Leonardo and Raphael. "My sons now is not the time to argue. We must help our new guest."

"You think he'll be okay?" Donatello asked.

Splinter knelt down, picking a portion of their new guest. Immediately Raphael and Leonardo picked up the mutant by the legs while Michelangelo grabbed the tail.

"I do not know. She is badly wounded and more." Splinter answered. "Let's treat her back home and see."

Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, and Michelangelo stopped dropping the mutant girl. "She!" They look at her. He is a she. Not what they were expecting. Then again, she is wearing an overly large trench coat. In fact, this is the first time they have ever gotten close to a girl. Splinter sighed, shaking his head and using his sensei voice to focus. Instantly the four turtles lifted a part of the girl taking her to their dojo to be treated.

"This is totally awesome," Michelangelo chuckled.

Oh dear, Splinter thought. He would need to teach his sons about respect and proper etiquette when in the presence of a woman.

.o0o.

Mutant girl's POV

Ow, my head. I thought, waking up to feel a nasty headache coming on. Damn, what did I do last night? Then the realization hit me as I stared at my hand, finding it covered in scaly skin. I sighed. I need to accept this is reality and not some fucked up nightmare.

Taking a breather to fully adjust my eyes to my surroundings, then stopped. This wasn't the under-bridge shed. Nor was it some abandoned building. You can easily smell the sewer, although a heavy amount of Febreze and scented cleaners have been recently sprayed to cover the wretched odor. The walls were covered in boom boxes, televisions, cameras, and other technology. There were graffiti markings on the walls and a tapestry with Asian symbols. Getting a better look, the room seemed to be decorated in an Asian flare with randomly scattered objects.

When my eyes fully adjusted, the first thing I saw was a couch . . . made out of pizza boxes. Alright, I know I'm high on something to be in this strange childlike room. Sort of reminds me of that Disney Channel show for little children of the imagination, Out of the Box. Anyway, I sat up on high alert.

Out of nowhere, a hand rested on my shoulder. I looked at it to find the long, hairy limb with claws, following the attachment to see a furry arm and a giant rat. Fear took over. I screamed, jumping on the table and stepping away from the large rodent.

"Hi," said a voice.

I turned around to see it was the small mutant turtle from before, next to him, the other three. I screamed, trying to figure out what to deal with: The giant rat or four mutant turtles. Somehow all of them screamed, minus the rat.

Oh my god, I gotta be high or something! I mentally cried. Come on, this got to be a dream! I can't take any more of this!

"If you will, please sit down and calm yourself. I will explain what has happened." The giant rat in a bathrobe said.

"You talk." I gasped, falling off the table.

"Are you all right, child?" the rat asked, walking over and helping me stand up.

"So this… isn't a… dream?" I managed to say, trying to comprehend what was going on.

"I'm afraid not." The rat confirmed.

I sat there dumbfounded, staring at all of them. So I'm not high, not dreaming, or dead; that's good to know. I think. The rat noticed my apprehension to respond. He looked at the four turtle mutants asking them to go practice. The boys whined in protest, but the rat gave them a sharp look. Whatever he looked like had the turtle boys scurrying away in fear.

"Follow me," the rat said.

I willingly got up, following the rat to some room, more like a train compartment filled with books, scrolls, and a mat. On the coffee table was a tray with a tea kettle and food. Okay, this is so wrong beyond belief. A four-foot-tall talking rat wearing a bathrobe led me into a junk cart. He sat on one side of the coffee table and gestured for me to sit down.

"Some hot tea?" he offered.

Not wanting to be rude, I sat down.

The rat picked up the teapot and poured the warm liquid into two small cups. Afterward handed me a cup, which I accepted. Hesitantly I took a sip and then relaxed, tasting jasmine tea.

"I apologized for my sons' behavior." The rat said. "We never had a guest before."

I nodded.

"It must be hard for you to understand what has happened." He stated. "I know from experience, for me and my sons have gone through the same thing as you."

"What?" I gasped.

The rat took a sip of his tea before beginning his story. "My name is Splinter. Many years ago, I lived in Japan: a pet of my master Yoshi. I mimicked his movements from my cage and learned the mysterious art of ninjutsu, for Yoshi was one of Japan's finest shadow warriors. His only rival was a man named Oroko Saki, and they competed in all things but in nothing more fiercely than for the love of a woman, Thang Shin.

"Shin's love was only for my master, and rather than see him fight Saki for her hand, she persuaded Yoshi to flee with me to America. But Saki vowed vengeance. I remember it well, as my master returned home to find his beloved Shin lying on the floor, and then he saw her killer. Saki wasted no words, and during the struggle, my cage was broken. I leapt to Saki's face, biting and clawing, but he threw me to the floor and took one swipe with his katana, slicing my ear."

Splinter sighed, touching his damaged ear. "He could have killed me or left me alone, and instead, he gave me to his pupil, Eric Sacks, an experiment with Dr. O'Neil. I, along with five baby turtles. One fateful night started like any other: Sachs gave us our injections while Dr. O'Neil made sure our vital signs were strong…."

He paused, debating on certain information to tell, but decided not to as he continued with his story. "After the brothers and sister went to sleep, I heard loud voices... It was the smell of smoke. Alarms sounded . . . the lab was on fire. I was terrified. I thought the fire would kill us, but the Hogosha ushered the brothers and me to safety, except for the sister. I only assume she perished in the flames…. Her name was Elizabeth"

"I'm sorry…. for your… loss," I whispered. "It . . . it must be hard… to witness such… sorrow."

"Indeed it was," Splinter agreed. He then looked out the many windows, ensuring none of the other turtles were there, eavesdropping on our conversation.

All this seemed surreal. Hard to believe scientists could go so far in this day of age. Especially having tea with my phobia. Splinter nodded to himself, for the coast was clear, then continued.

"We wandered the sewers until I found this place. It was then that the mutagen injected into our blood began to change us in miraculous ways. I knew I had to take responsibility and show the turtles love. I became their father, and they became my sons. And soon, I gave them all names: Leonardo, Michelangelo, Donatello, and Raphael.

"Like all children, they were drawn to the distractions of popular culture. And I knew, one day, they would want to explore the world above. They would be ridiculed. They would need to learn to protect themselves, both mentally and physically. And then I found a way. First, I had to reteach myself in the ancient art of ninjutsu. The others followed my lead, accelerating at a wondrous rate. Their gift was also their passion; they lived, breathed, and dreamed of martial arts. In time they will be ready. You just caught them off guard after training." Splinter finished with a chuckle.

I chuckled with him, remembering the boys' reactions when they saw me. After the little giggle passed, I looked at him. "Not to be rude… but how do we… relate?"

"You as well possess the same mutagen in your veins," Splinter answered. "I'm afraid you were a human test subject from the same experiment performed on us."

"Is there… a… cure?" I asked. "Or some way…. To… reverse it?"

"That I do not know." He answered sadly.

That was when I realized I'll be living the same fate as the turtles and Splinter. Just imagine the reaction of what people would think if I went up without my disguise; fear rejection. . . There is no chance of survival. I may have bits and pieces of my human memory, but they seemed so vague. Still, no human would welcome a freak to society except for the laboratory or freak show. Just the thought alone riled me up. The anger burning deep within blossomed.

"Child, may I ask for your name?" Splinter asked.

"I . . . I can't… remember," I answered. "I can't remember much….. Only the moment…. the Foot Clan… took me . . . and now."

Splinter nodded, "Child, you are welcome to stay here and live with us."

"I don't want to…. Burden… you," I said.

"You shall not be a burden," Splinter assured. "If you like, I would like to teach you the art of ninjutsu. To be a kunoichi. A female ninja."

"Wait… what?" I said, surprised. "Are you… sure?"

"Yes, but I warn you. It'll be the hardest thing you've ever done. It will drain you mentally, physically, and spiritually. In the end, the result shall be your reward. You'll have more control of your emotions and preparation for a better future." Splinter explained.

"I . . . Need time…. to think about it," I murmured.

Splinter nodded as he left the cart, leaving me be. I wrapped the trench coat closer to me until realizing I wasn't wearing the coat but a bathrobe. Although it doesn't feel like a bathrobe, the material is made out of silk or something. In fact, all the wounds were treated covered up in bandages and stitches. Please tell me the rat did this. Otherwise, it would be humiliating to face the turtles. The past week has been a struggle from hiding, searching for food, and depression. But here, I could be safe, not alone, and learn to adapt.

Whatever this Sacks guy did to me, no doubt, has no reversal cure. And even if there was, the trauma will be….I don't know. Yet look on the bright side, I get to learn martial arts. The downside is living in the sewers with four teenage mutant turtles . . . who are male.

So with a deep breath, I took a final sip of tea before getting up and walking out of the train cart. I wandered around the makeshift lair. This is going to be interesting. There were sounds of fighting in the distance. Following the noise, I discovered a gym where the four turtles were training while Splinter watched them. Slowly I walked alongside the wall, watching them ready in the art of the ninja.

What do you all think? Anyway, I crossbreed both the 1990s and 2014 versions of how the Turtles and Splinter came to be. Also, Splinter keeps secrets.

Thanks for reading, and please leave a review.

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