Chapter 7

Chapter Song: L'Arena - Ennio Morricone

Miranda screamed and pounded against the wood in the wood for at least 10 minutes, but reason eventually took over as she stopped, telling herself it was no use to call for help. The worst thing that would happen if she tried to struggle all she would do was just waste valuable air that she had in this coffin or worse case scenario, he would have all the dirt on top of her coffin break down and crush the life out of her.

Though in hindsight, it would be a quicker way to die than suffocating.

Miranda pushed these negative thoughts away as she closed her eyes and took a moment to relax and clear her mind of fear. Even though it was dark, she knew her body well.

Despite the handcuffs on her wrists, she slid her hands down her body and felt around the waist, hoping to find her lockpick kit. To her dismay, they took all of that, not even leaving her a weapon to endure suffering quickly, at least they left her pants on.

She didn't lose hope though. She then slowly moved her hands up to her hair as she ran her fingers through her hair.

"Come on, come on…" Miranda whispered, her fingers searching carefully, thankfully for her, her fingers hit what she was looking for as she pulled out a bobby pin from her hair. She held onto it tightly as she lowered her hand back to her stomach area as she used her fingers to feel the keyhole of the handcuffs. Being careful but precise, she slid one side of the bobby pin into the keyhole as she slowly moved it around. She kept her eyes closed as it was pointless to bother seeing nothing in the dark coffin, but she formed the image of her surroundings in her mind as her fingers practically created the image of the handcuffs in her mind as she slowly moved the bobby pin around, she had to be careful, if she forced the pin in the lock, it was break.

The sound of the lock snapping back rewarded her patience as she pulled her hand out of the cuff, placing the bobby pin on her stomach to rub her wrist for a moment before she got to work on the other cuff.

Within 15 minutes of waking up, Miranda had freed her hands of the metal handcuffs, leaving them free to feel around this dark wooden cage some more. She tried to think of what she could use to possibly communicate with anyone that she was alive down here, but her phone was gone and this wasn't one of those coffins where there was a string attacked to a bell above where you could ring it to indicate you were still alive. She laid her hands to her side and head back in defeat.

She was done for.

"Pathetic weakling!" a voice yelled in her mind. She recognized this voice immediately as her former captor and master, Oroku Saki or better known as The Shredder. Immediately, her mind flashed back to her days training under the Shredder after he had kidnapped her when she was 6 years old.

At that day, she was seven and she was failing to please her master during training spar matches as she refused to beat a downed opponent per his instructions.

"Only a year since you came here and you show no more promise than when you arrived then!" The Shredder roared, young Miranda just shrunk in place as The Shredder yelled at her.

"I-I'm tryin' master…" Miranda said softly.

"Inexcusable. Show me your hands." The Shredder ordered.

"Wha- what?" Miranda questioned.

"SHOW ME YOUR HANDS!" The Shredder Commanded, Miranda slowly and nervously raised her hands up to The Shredder as he grabbed them both in his one hand. "Bah! They are weak!"

"I-I'm only 7 Master-" Miranda began to say before The Shredder lifted her up by her hands, hurting her wrists, as he held her up to him.

"Excuses, excuses! I tire of excuses. I own your hands now and I want my hands strong." Shredder dropped Miranda on the hard ground, she felt like crying, but she forced them back to The Shredder wouldn't berate her further. "Come! We will strengthen your hands!" Miranda nodded as she followed The Shredder to an area away from the students as they approached an area with blocks of wood being held in place by stones

"Since your hands belong to me now…I want them strong." The Shredder said as he removed the gauntlet on his hand, curling it into a fist and landed a punch through the block of wood, Miranda's eyes widened as he pulled his hand out and turned to her.

"I- that's impossible! I can't punch through solid wood!" Miranda protested.

"It's the wood that should fear your hand- not the other way around." The Shredder said as he held the tip of his hand up to her face. "What if your enemy is three inches in front of you, what do you do then? Curl into a ball or do you put your FIST through him?" The Shredder said, curling his hand into a ball and throwing another solid punch cleanly through the block of wood, leaving a clean hole.

"Begin." He ordered as he positioned her in front of an untouched block of wood. Young Miranda stared at this block of wood as she placed the tip of her fingers at one point on the wood as she landed a punch on the wood, not so surprisingly, it didn't dent, she tried again, this time, stinging her hand.

"You will spend at least one to two hours every day punching this block of wood until your arm becomes strong enough to make a hole." The Shredder ordered as he put the gauntlet back on his hand and left, leaving Miranda alone. Young Miranda didn't want to punch this block of wood, but she also didn't want The Shredder to beat her for insubordination, so she continued to punch at this block of wood, despite all the pain it caused to her hand, she kept punching at the wood fruitlessly until the skin from her knuckles began to peel away and blood would mark the wood.

Two hours later, The Shredder returned to check on her progress, she had bloodied her hand, but left no impact on the wood at all.

"No wonder you can't do it, you acquiesce to defeat before you even begin." The Shredder criticized as he sent Miranda to go eat, which Miranda did, cradling her hand, only to have it hurt the next day by continuously punching the wood.

And this was but one of the training methods Miranda underwent over the next few years of her life. She learned all the martial arts Shredder inflicted on Miranda, and was subsequently beaten or whipped when she failed, but every day for one to two hours, she was forced to continue to punch the wooden block as per Shredder's orders, despite all that time, she barely left so much as a dent. When Miranda was 11, she got into a fight with one of the other trainees and he shattered her right hand. When the Shredder broke up the fight and punished the trainee, he ordered Miranda to take bed rest and have her arm placed in a cast, his logic being "a broken sword is useless and ineffective in battle, I prefer to have my weapons in perfect shape."

Well, barely a day after he ordered Miranda to recover, he caught her outside back at the wooden blocks continuously punching at the block of wood.

"Miranda! I gave strict orders for you to rest your hand!" The Shredder yelled, Miranda turned to face her master, her right hand still in it's sling, but her left hand was all bloody.

"I had realized my left hand needed strengthenin' too master!" Young Miranda responded before she turned back and continued to punch at the wood with her left hand, ignoring the pain. The Shredder watched her punch away as a smalls mile formed behind his mask.

Of course, this didn't stop Miranda from her other training as well, she just substituted her left hand as her right hand continued to heal, even when her right hand recovered, she went on punching away at the wood, not even worrying if she would break her hand again. Miranda was now indoctrinated into the Shredder's training, but deep down, she yearned to be free, she yearned to escape and find her parents again, this, more than anything, kept her from fully becoming Shredder's mind slave like all the other trainees. By 12, The Shredder took her under his wing and taught her his own special line of martial arts and even though he said she didn't have to, Miranda continued to punch at the block of wood every day, though this time, switching both hands.

Then, on Miranda's 15th birthday, the Shredder was going about his routine to check on his trainees and was walking past the wood punching area that Miranda was at, still punching away at the wood, he was nearly the turn of the corner when a certain sound made him stop in his tracks. He turned around and slowly returned to the area as his eyes widened in surprise and delight. Miranda, panting heavily, sweat forming on her forehead, blood on her left knuckles and her right hand through the block of wood she had been punching away at for nine years. Miranda stared at the block of wood in amazement as she pulled her hand out of the hole she made as The Shredder walked up behind her and looked at her progress, she turned her head and looked up at Shredder, panting heavily.

"I…I did it…"Miranda said softly.

"Anyone can do it once." The Shredder said as Miranda gave a sort of grin as she turned her attention to another untouched block of wood, she delivered a fierce blow right through the block of wood with one punch, the sound of wood splintering and creaking making it clear Miranda's hands were lethal, she pulled her hand back out and looked up at Shredder excitedly as he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Get changed, I have a special assignment for you..." He said.

Unbeknownst to him, he had set the stones for Miranda's chance to escape from his encampment and return to America.

Miranda's flashback ended as she opened her eyes in the dark, determination in her eyes.

She knew what she had to do.

Miranda placed her hands not eh ceiling of her coffin again and knocked on certain places, trying to find a weak spot, eventually, she heard a spot as she kept her hand on that spot and she positioned her hand properly, curling it into a ball.

"Okay Shredder…here I go…" Miranda said silently as she began to punch at that spot. She hadn't exactly lost her strength, but Miranda hadn't kept up her wood punching exercises for the last few years, what would have been easy to do with one blow, Miranda now had to dedicate a series of punches in one spot. The same stinging pain shot through her hand, but she bit the bullet and kept punching in this one spot.

As she punched away, her mind went to all the people she knew that she imagined them voicing support. Her foster sister Alison, her stern yet lovable boss Herbert, her co-workers, Marcus and Candice, even Shredder, despite cutting all ties to him. But most of all, she imagined the Turtles, Michelangelo, Donatello, Leonardo and even Raphael, all voicing support, giving her the motivation to keep punching at the wood.

Her efforts were reward with the sound of wood cracking. She kept punching in that spot, feeling dirt pour through the cracks and land on her body. She was getting through. She pounded away even harder at the wood, trying to free herself, eventually punching right through the wood to feel the dirt outside as it all began to pour into the coffin, she closed her eyes and mouth as all the dirt soon began to fill her coffin…

On the surface of Trinity's Wall Street graveyard, it poured light raindrops. Near a grave that read "Here lies Xiao Mei, the woman warrior who was too blind to stay out of danger." Standing over the grave, an umbrella in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other was Charles Hughes. He had canceled a meeting to come here when he had learned that the Wutang Clan had captured and buried Miranda alive. He didn't cry, he didn't mourn, he just looked down on the grave with a look of regret on his face.

"Sigh* damn it…I admit, you were starting to grow on me. You reminded me a lot of my sister in a few ways…I know I didn't seem to care, but you always had my respect." Charles said softly, he tossed the flowers onto he grave mound as he placed his hand into his pocket and stood there for a moment longer contemplating what he could do now that his major chess piece was gone. It was starting to look like he would have forfeit the match in this case. The other turtles Miranda kept in contact with would never listen to him and it wouldn't be long before the Wutang Clan would find their lair and wipe them out. He gave a nod to the grave to show his respects as he turned and began to walk away. He had barely gone more than a few steps when he stopped in place and tilted his head up, listening. He heard something that wasn't the rain.

He slowly turned around as he saw the grave mound moving slightly, his eyes widening in surprise before a smile formed on his face.

"Well I'll be damned…" Charles said softly as he slowly walked over and watched as the grave mound continued to shift. it almost looked like it was breathing before eventually, a dirt-covered hand burst out from the ground.

Miranda pulled her upper body out of the dirt, taking a deep breath of fresh air before she pulled her other hand out and began to cough excess dirt that got in through her mouth and nose. She was filthy, she had mud and dirt and rocks in her hair, her right hand was muddy and bloody, dirt had gone down through her cleavage and other unmentionable places. Nevertheless, she looked over and saw a cross as she gave a silent thanks as she laid her head not eh dirt, panting exhaustedly.

"I take it hell ran out of room so they just left you go?" Charles finally spoke up, Miranda leaned her head out of the mud to look up at Charles, dressed in black, she saw the moon shining behind him with a few street lights as well. He extended his hand to hers to help pull her out. Miranda just stared at his hand and then back at him with a distrusting gaze.

"For the record…I had nothing to do with this…I only found out about a half hour ago this happened…" Charles said in his usual tone, but Miranda could hear a sense of concern in his voice this time. She looked up at him, rain dripping on her head, her feet trying to get out of this dirt, she eventually nodded as she placed her hand in his.