Forever Young
Chapter 6:
The Devil's Bargain
The ship's steady engine chugged and vibrated as it continued its rowdy pace, seemingly untroubled by the stormy waves that brushed against its rusty hull.
Paige's nose filled with the oily smells of gasoline and the salty sting of seawater, immediately she lurched forward. With a painful thump her knees landed on the steel floor, and she heaved into the metal bucket in front of her. It wasn't exactly her first time bending over to empty her stomach whilst surrounded by prying eyes, but without the lovely distraction of blissful alcohol intoxication she couldn't help but feel the uncomfortable sting of shame. Luckily, when you're running a dangerously high fever and facing the possibility of death – if dying was still a thing she could do – it did put things into a slightly different perspective.
Who cares if she was spewing her guts out, quite literally, there were certainly more concerning things at hand. The looming threat of whatever they were going to face once the ship would reach its destination, for example.
Another gag escaped her lips, and despite that nothing more would come out of her but small bursts of bile her throat kept constricting, and her stomach continued to writhe uncomfortably within her. Her head was on the verge of exploding, and it took all of her effort not to start wailing and crying out in pain.
She white knuckled herself through it, holding on to the bucket for dear life, refusing to succumb to the pain.
She cringed. No, just one shameful act at a time, thank you very much.
After a seemingly final dry heave, she let herself lean heavily on the edge of the bucket and released a deep and weary sigh. Exhausted, she breathing back in. The acrid smell of vomit entered her nostrils, and with a disgusted grimace she could feel the urge to throw up again. With loud, painful thumping in her head she reluctantly moved away from the bucket.
After settling her butt on the floor she leaned back, and her shoulder-blades met with the cold, sharp edge of the bench. Lifting her arm, which took more effort than she'd expected, she slowly wiped her mouth with what was left of her blood stained blouse. Feeling empty, disgusted and tired, she dropped her head back on the bench to rest.
Through heavy lidded eyes she watched the dark ceiling above. Her vision spun with vibrant flashes of colour, and she groaned and winced when the ambient light brightened around her. It allowed her to see more – better, before she was blinded. Then, as quick as it had come, it disappeared again. Leaving her in a word that was dull and dark. In the back of her head she could hear muffled voices she did not understand.
All she wanted was to be able to slowly fade away and sleep, but she could not bring herself to ignore the pricking sensation of being watched.
After a long while she opened her eyes and swallowed thickly. "Leonardo, I can feel you staring at me," She turned her head towards the mutant turtle sitting in the cell on her left, and gave him a forced, lopsided smile. "You aren't being very subtle about it, you know."
She watched as his lips pressed into a stern line. His grey eyes darkened when his brow furrowed with concern at the sight of her pallid, shadowy face. For the past hour he'd watched her slowly decent into a more sickly state.
"Paige." His voice was gentle but sounded gravely serious, and in response she could feel her smile slowly falter. There wasn't much sense in trying to keep up appearances. "It's going to be all right."
His look was intense, trying to convey that he was there for her, and that he was positively certain she was going to make it out of this unscathed. In response, she kept her eyes locked with his, and in that moment she really wanted to believe him. Believe that it would all turn out a-okay, but he couldn't possibly know that. She could feel her eyes begin to water, and before emotions got the better of her, she turned away and looked back up again.
Blinking away the tears, she took a ragged breath and murmured, "Yeah, sure."
"Trust me, Slontag," A deep, bitter voice began. Both Leonardo and Paige looked up at the sound of soft, slow patter of bare footsteps. "Soon, you'll be glad they kept you two separated. I've seen the things they change into…" Cold, black eyes slid to Paige and she cowed under the sharp gaze of the blue skinned man. "It would be best if she were to perish right here and now."
"Heh," Paige snorted with wry amusement. "Aren't you a ray of sunshi – AH!" She wailed, gripping her head tight when another stab of pain pierced right through her eyes.
"Yeah, it hurts, doesn't it?" With his bony shoulder the blue skinned man leaned against the bars of his cage and cocked his head to look down at her with callous enjoyment. "It'll get much, much worse."
"You should learn when to hold your tongue, G'nath."
Leonardo turned around, facing the other cell besides his to find the owner of the second male voice.
An average sized, dark grey skinned man with striking violet irises emerged from the shadows. As quiet as a mouse, he walked on top of four thick toes – the rest of his elongated foot lifted in the air like the hindlegs of a cat. When he stepped into the light his black pupils contracted into tiny slits. His ears were long and pointed, and from his cropped black hair sprouted a pair of thick, curved horns. His body, which was build slender and looked fairly muscular – meaning he was capable of moving at high speeds – also suggested that he hadn't been captured for long.
The new stranger regarded the blue skinned alien with reproach. "That poor girl is not your enemy."
G'nath folded his arms and scoffed. "All humans are my enemy, Roth."
Paige unclenched her jaw and released her breath, feeling her muscles lose their tension. The pain finally subsided, but remained still, lingering at the back of her head. Lurking above her like a threatening axe swinging above her head.
An unexpected movement behind Roth's oddly shaped legs caught Paige's attention, and she raised her eyebrows as high as they could go when she saw the long prehensile tail. Like the tail of an annoyed cat, it twitched from side to side.
"You must not tar every human with the same brush," His voice was calm, and deep, and his violet eyes appeared to glow brighter for a moment in the dark. "simply because the few you have met hold souls as empty as the void."
Roth's words earned him a dramatic roll of G'nath's eyes. "Poetic, you should write a book." he responded dryly.
"I know off many alien denizens, not unlike humans, who would prey upon the weak to make themselves feel better." Roth paused, quirked one eyebrow and continued with a light tone, "Or did your people of Slandon not suffer under the rule of a power-hungry and ruthless tyrant for years?"
G'nath scowled in response, turning his back to them.
"Wait. Hold up…" Paige said, feeling confused and shocked. "Alien denizens?" The final word she articulated slowly, a little unfamiliar with its use. With wide eyes she looked at Leonardo, who's face remained impassive as ever, and turned back to G'nath and Roth. "You're not mutants? You're actual aliens."
"Sharp as a marble, that one." G'nath sneered.
"It must be hard to believe we exist," Roth responded, explaining like a patient teacher would his slowest student. "As a human you might not be familiar with the multitude of galactic species, but I can assure you that –"
"Oh, no, I believe in aliens." Paige interrupted. After all, New York hadn't exactly been the same after that weird dinosaur invasion a few years back. Despite that the government was trying to play it off as some elaborate stunt fabricated by terrorists, some people were now more concerned with aliens being an actual real life threat. However, that was so not the point right now, and Paige looked at Roth. "But how the fuck are you speaking English?"
"We aren't." Roth answered simply, and tapped the device around his neck. It was similar to the one she and Leonardo wore, and with one quick glance she saw everyone was wearing it. Paige then noticed the little red light turned on when Roth spoke. "These carry translation modulators. I'm speaking my native language, and this device translates it."
"Woah…" Paige guffawed loudly.
Leonardo turned to Roth, drawing his attention. "How long have you've been held captive by Stockman?"
"A while…" Roth answered vaguely, and nodded towards the others. "Most have been prisoner much longer."
"And that woman…"
"Helena?"
"What's her function in all this?"
"I'm not sure," Roth answered. "She's a medical practitioner of some kind, and occasionally performs surgeries and prescribes medical treatments. It seems she and Stockman are working together, but it's unclear whether they are partners or one is simply working for the other."
"Right." Leonardo crossed his arms, eyes losing focus as his mind drifted away in thought. He had the inkling of a feeling that there was something much more about that woman. He had sensed it the moment he'd met her. Something strange and something very powerful.
Suddenly, a series of loud bangs startled nearly everyone. Then, the muffled shouting of men and a terrifying roar silenced the entire room.
"What was that?" Paige asked, fear evidently on her face.
After a pause, Roth answered tentatively. "The others…"
"Others?" Leonardo asked, curious.
Another loud bang resounded against the wall, followed by menacing roars. More men were screaming, and they sounded terrified. Eventually, the roaring stopped, as did the banging against the wall.
Roth's slitted eyes scanned the walls calmly, the worrying sounds having little effect on him. "They're not from the same place we came from…"
"You mean they didn't come from the underground lab?"
Roth shook his head slowly. "Sometimes they would bring them down to the laboratory for experiments, but they never stayed. They're too dangerous."
"Are they mutants? Aliens?"
"Both…" Roth frowned, and shrugged. "Neither… No one is quite certain of what they are," He turned to look Leonardo in his eyes. "but they are not like you or me."
"What do you mean?"
"They're... primal."
"Primal?"
A low grumble of a chuckle. "Like I said, always the poet." G'nath said wryly. "What he means is that they're ferocious monsters that will hunt and eat you alive." He turned his head to glance back at them over his shoulder. "Some do it because they're top tier predators, others because they simply enjoy it. They've been locked up for ages, and those idiots thought they could control them."
"Not control." Roth corrected, shaking his head. "They thought they could use them to create the perfect – well..."His eyes turned to Paige and he gave her a wary, pitied look. "human, I suppose."
"Guys," Michelangelo said a length, nervously eyeing the marble statue of a veiled young lady. He leaned in closer to inspect its delicate features when a rather large spider crawled over her head. With a high-pitched yelp he jumped back, and quickly followed his two brothers further down the large corridor. "I really, really don't like this place."
Raphael rolled his eyes. For an hour they'd been investigating the old mansion, yet they'd found nothing suspicious so far. The building was old, rotting, cold, creaked from all sides and carried a distinctive musty smell.
"Stop yer whining, Mikey." Raphael said, Sai drawn on his right side as he lead the way forward and through a heavy set of wooden doors. The hinges creaked with an eerily long squeak.
They entered a large open area with bookcases adorning every wall from top to bottom, with the exception of a large paned window. Through its murky glass the full moon shone brightly, illuminating the room with a gothic mystical sense of wonder. On each side hung a dark red curtain, billowing softly in wind from where the cold air blew through a broken hole in the glass.
"It's a library…" Donatello said, marvelling at the old, but beautiful ornate wooden bookcases filled with rows and rows of old books. The wooden floor was scratched and gouged and littered with sprawled out books and papers. Broken chairs lay here and there, and chunks of plaster had crumbled down off the ceiling. At the end a semi-collapsed wooden staircase wound up to a second floor.
"Woah…" Michelangelo gawked as he walking into the middle of the room, and slowly spun around. "Think it got any old comic books laying around?"
Donatello chuckled. "Considering how old this place is, and what it was used for…" His eyes swept over the multitude of books with deep adoration. "I highly doubt it."
"Too bad," Michelangelo responded with fallen shoulders. "would've been awesome to find some of the first issues of the Action Comics, ya know."
Donatello trailed his hand over the cracked spines of some leather-bound books still on their shelve, collecting dust on the tips of his fingers as he did. "Such a shame these books are left here to waste away…"
As Raphael strode towards the window he briefly glanced over his shoulder. "Don't even think about it, Don." Reaching the window, his skin pricked as cold wind brushed against him, and if it hadn't been made out of scales but flesh, he'd have goosebumps running all over.
"About what?" Donatello responded innocently, unable to take his eyes off a thick physiology book just within his reach.
"We ain't taking any of these books home." Raphael said, standing in the moonlight. When he looked out the window he saw the mysterious forest stretching out into the far distance. Its twisted trees and gnarly branches casually swayed in the wind. Below, headlights of the two trucks slanted along the driveway, casting deep ominous shadows within riotous bushes on the edge of the forest.
When his words were met with silence, Raphael turned, shooting a pointed look at his purple clad brother who's hand was already outstretched out high above him. "Donnie?!" Raphael warned, and Donatello flinched.
"Yeah, yeah…" Donatello sighed, reluctantly lowering his arm. "I get it."
Raphael shook his head. He was about ready to make their way out of the library, feeling certain their current location was nothing but a distraction. With a flick of his wrist, he twirled his Sai, thinking of where to head next. He wondered whether this place would have a basement of some kind. Stepping away from the window, he caught the glimpse of movement behind the curtain.
Instantly, he reached forward, grabbing for whatever it was that had moved.
His thick fingers coiled around fabric, and the person managed to escape his grasp. Without a word, they scurried away, making a dash for the still open doors.
"What the shell?!" Michelangelo exclaimed as the hooded figure pushed him aside and sprinted past.
"Don't just stand there, knucklehead!" Raphael snarled, running after the person.
Raphael may not the be the fastest out of the four of them, but that did not mean he was by any means slow. He ran through the long corridor and returned to the large stairwell of the entrance hall. He easily caught up with the runaway, who – despite having made a quick headstart – was already losing speed, fast.
With a roar, Raphael managed to tackle the person to the floor on the wide landing.
"Think ya can escape?!" Raphael growled, using his full weight to keep the person flat on their back, one pointy end of his Sai at their throat. "Think again, ya –" He grabbed the hood and aggressively pulled it off to reveal a fearful looking girl. "A chick?"
Stunned, Raphael looked down at the young blonde woman with confusion. Scared, the girl held her hands up between them, palms facing him trying to protect herself. Despite that, he still kept his Sai pointed against her neck, knowing better than letting appearances fool him.
"P-please," She begged with a squeaky voice. "Don't - Don't hurt me."
"Raph?!"
Donatello and Michelangelo appeared above the steps, running down to meet up with their brother.
"Dude, it's a girl?!" Michelangelo leaped down, landing beside Raphael. "That is so – aaaaaah!" Michelangelo's words turned into a girlish scream as he was thrown down the stairs by an invisible force. He could hear his brothers shout out his name before he landed with a loud, painful smack on the marble floor. His shell screeched as he slid further down until he banged his head against the double entrance doors. "Urgh… Dude, what the shell?" He groaned, his vision still blurry as he looked between his legs whilst lying upside down. A dark figure appeared before him.
A flash of pink was all he saw before the shadowy figure turned its back towards him, a cape billowed out behind them. From where he was lying, Michelangelo could see two four fingered hands reaching upwards and heard a female voice thundering loudly, echoing against the walls like some demonic entity.
"Release her!"
"Woah!" Donatello exclaimed as he was lifted off the ground and slammed against the wall beside the angelic statue. He groaned, and tried to heave his legs and arms into action, but his body would not obey him. He could feel the immense pressure of an invisible force press against him as it kept him pinned against the wall, making him unable to move even an inch.
"Donnie!"
Raphael was now furious, and he turned to glare down the stairs. He found the attacker. A dark figure wearing a black cloak. With the hood pulled over their head their face remained in the dark, but glowing pink orbs shone back up at him.
"Release her, now!" The voice echoed again, but it sounded strained this time. Out of breath even.
Raphael's eyes narrowed into tiny slits, his fingers clenched around the hilts of his Sais, and his nostrils flared as he released a deep, frustrated breath. With his trembling captive below him forgotten, he rose up from the floor and turned all his attention to the one who appeared to be attacking his brothers.
"Raph," Donatello managed to say with great difficulty. "W-Wait."
But Raphael wasn't listening, and with a loud roar he jumped down the stairs towards the cloaked person. A loud thud resounded when he landed with his heavy weight and he instantly sprinted forward, Sais drawn on each side, ready to strike.
As if taken by surprise, the pink eyed figure startled backwards, hands lowering towards Raphael instead. In the back, Donatello felt the pressure immediately disappear, and gravity brought him back to the ground. Thanks to his ninja skills he easily landed on his feet and rolled forward without injury.
Below, Raphael rushed forward and jumped, but instead of going straight for the attacker, he went flying higher. It was a weird sensation, causing his stomach to churn as his body was lifted became weightless. Like someone had just turned off the gravity switch and he was left floating as he was back in space. But because of his momentum, he went right overhead the cloaked figure.
"The fuck?!" He growled, surprised. Looking down as he went, his eyes met with glowing pink eyes, both were looking at each other with big, wide eyes. Instinctively, his body wanted to react, but he felt himself unable to use his limbs.
With a thump, Raphael landed behind the cloaked figure, and before he could lift himself off the floor he felt a hard pointed pressure against his forehead. Instantly, everything faded into darkness.
Michelangelo had watched as his brother had soared in the air, and had weirdly ended up on the ground. It wasn't like Raphael to fuck up a leaped attack like that, and he should know! Michelangelo had been on the receiving end of a multitude of times of such similar attack. Then, Michelangelo's stomach dropped and his mouth gone dry like sand when he watched, horrified, as his brother went limp before his eyes when he was touched by the cloaked figure.
"Raph, No!" Michelangelo shouted in fear and anger. He quickly got up on his feet. No one messes with his big hot-tempered brother but him. With twirling Nunchucks by his side he sprinted forward, ready to attack, but the cloaked person was fast – faster than him – and dodged the attacks.
Seemingly with ease, the person manoeuvred closer, avoiding the whirlwind of deadly nunchucks, slipping in-between Michelangelo's arms and went right up in his face. The cloaked figure was now so close Michelangelo could smell the fruity and flowery scent that surrounded them, and his eyes were captivated by the glowing, pink orbs.
Something touched his face – fingers, warm and soft, rested on his temples. Thumbs brushed against his cheeks, and a weird sensation touched his mind. It felt like a cool drop of water on the inside of his skull, causing a rippling effect that vibrated throughout his body. His limbs stopped working, and everything engulfed in a bright, warm light.
When he opened his eyes, he found himself floating in a white room without walls. Frantically he turned to find his brothers, but they were not with him.
When he turned around again, he found an odd looking girl floating in front of him. Her skin was a slate grey, and two curved horns sprouted from her head. Her short, bob-cut hair with long strands in the front was a charcoal black. Her pink glowing eyes were locked on him, and before he could say anything she floated forward, touching his forehead with hers.
Without warning, pictures of his life flashed in front of his eyes. Times of when he was a little turtle tod playing around with his brothers. When he was learning the arts of ninjutsu from his father in the dojo. Reading Silver Sentry comics in his room. Skating through the sewer pipes. Scouring the rooftops with his brothers. Battling Foot ninja and the Shredder. Fighting those ugly monsters in Stockman's underground lab. Watching his big brother get taken away by Fabian. And finally, the moment he laid eyes upon the Sanatorium.
The images stopped coming, and he instantly felt tired. He shut his eyes. Mentally drained and dizzy from watching parts of his life all over again in super-speed.
He sensed the warm light faded away and he felt soft strokes of thumbs on his cheeks once, twice, and then they withdrew. The icy sting of cold air pricked the back of his neck and the temperature dropped. He was back at the mansion. Back in its cold, dark and gritty great hall.
A whisper of a voice echoed in the back of his mind. "Open your eyes, Michelangelo."
Feeling drowsy and nauseous, he stumbled backwards, and in the background he could faintly hear Donatello's muffled voice.
"Dude," He groaned, taking a peek at the hooded figure before him. "what in the shell did you do to me?"
"You're here because you're looking for your brother?" Her voice was surprisingly soft. With both hands she drew her hood back, revealing the same girl he met in the white room. The glowing eyes were gone and replaced with a set of pink orbs with slitted pupils.
"Yeah," Michelangelo replied, still wobbly on his feet. "You could've just asked instead of using your Vulcan mind meld on me, ya know."
"Sorry," She said sheepishly. "I did try to be gentle…"
"You call that gentle?" Michelangelo exclaimed. "I've received gentler noogies from Raph than that!"
She shrugged and looked at him apologetically.
Michelangelo had to hand it to the girl, if she was the enemy, she was damn good at pretending to look sincere and friendly.
"Step away from my brothers!"
Michelangelo and the girl snapped their heads up to find Donatello holding his Bo staff, one end pointed at the blonde girl still lying on the ground.
"Mikey, are you okay?"
"Yeah, man." Michelangelo replied, stepping forward. "They're not gonna hurt us… err – I mean… not anymore… I think." His brow furrowed in thought and he glanced at the girl by his side. "Right?"
Like a deer caught in headlights, she shared a startled look with Michelangelo. Then, as if pricked, she sprouted into action. "Oh – yeah!" She nodded at Michelangelo, then quickly shook her head, and turned to Donatello. "I mean. No! We won't hurt you guys. You have my word."
Donatello took a moment to study the horned girl, then took a quick glance down at the blonde. She still lay there trembling, hands raised in surrender. Yeah, not quite the terrible duo.
"Right…" Donatello slowly lifted his Bo staff away from her face, and offered her his hand. "Sorry about that." He apologised, and after she took an audible gulp, the girl took his hand and he raised her off the floor in one swift motion. He then turned to the horned girl below. "Now, if you would be so kind as to explain, what it is you did to our brother?"
"You mean him?" She asked innocently, and answered with a toothy grin. "Nothing harmful, I swear. I simply put him to sleep."
As if on que, Raphael let out a loud rumble of a snore.
The steel floor was terribly cold, and yet, a delightful comfort against her burning skin.
Paige her teeth clattered in her mouth so terribly loud she was certain Leonardo could hear it. Arms wrapped around herself, she desperately squeezed her body while it shivered as if she was freezing, and yet she was disgustingly drenched in sweat. Nothing new on that front, she thought. The headaches and aching of her muscles, now that was going on for a while as well, but the pain... The searing pain that felt like her flesh was set aflame and her bones were trying to rip themselves free from her body, that was new.
She could deal with the blinding headaches, making her more nauseous than she already was, but when another quiver of that pain trailed up her spine she had to grit her teeth. Unable to fight it, a pained moan escaped her.
So much for not succumbing to the pain, she thought wryly.
In the other cell Leonardo ground his teeth as well, and clenched his fists. For nearly two hours now, he had listened to her soft whimpers and pained moans, and when he first witnessed the rippling of her flesh, he'd felt his mouth go dry. To his horror he watched again and again as her muscles contorted grotesquely underneath her skin and she writhed and squirmed on the floor.
Paige was suffering, and all he could do was watch.
His eyes narrowed with frustration.
He hated watching. Unable to do anything.
"Paige?"
She didn't respond. Instead she hugged herself tighter into a foetal position.
His shoulders moved up and down as he released a deep sigh, and he knelt down near the bars that separated their cells. His eyes trailed over her, and halted at her face. It was twisted in a pained expression, and he slowly reached out. His hand hovered above her head, his fingers twitched with hesitation, but eventually he lay a comforting hand on her head. It was something his father would do when he and his brothers were younger and bedridden because they were feeling sick or had been hurt.
His chest tightened at the thought of his father as he was now million miles away from him.
Paige leaned her head into his cool touch, and he brushed a strand of sodden hair out of her face.
"Paige, you can survive this." His voice sounded raw with emotion. "And then I'll get you out of here, I promise, but you need to fight this thing first."
Slowly, Paige opened her red-rimmed eyes to meet his.
"Careful there, Romeo." She was shivering from the fever, trembling in pain, and yet she still managed a faint smile. "I might start falling for you if you keep that up."
He gave a weak laugh. "If you're feeling well enough to make bad jokes, you might actually be getting better already."
"Must be." She murmured, and averted her eyes as she chewed thoughtfully on the inside of her cheek. The words she wanted to say next clogged in her throat, but she forced them out anyway. "Leonardo?" She needed to get this out.
"Hmm?"
She regarded him with fierce intensity, surprising him.
Slowly she took hold of his hand, which felt cold in hers, and gave it a soft squeeze.
"I'm sorry…" she swallowed thickly. "It's all my fault."
His brow furrowed, darkening his grey eyes. "What are you talking about?"
"If it wasn't for me you would still be with your brothers," Paige explained, eyes watering. "you wouldn't be stuck in here, captured like some animal."
Another clench of his heart with worry at the mention of his brothers, and he bowed his head, resting his forehead against the bars of their cages. "Now you just sound delirious."
"Yeah, well… maybe I am." She whispered, gripping his hand tighter when another ripple of pain surged through her. She rode it out, and Leonardo waited until her grip loosened. Small dents of crested moons appeared where her nails had dug into his scales.
"Don't blame yourself." He said. "We were going down to that laboratory whether you were there or not."
"But if it wasn't for me you would've had a better fighting chance… now you needed to protect me."
Leonardo sighed, she sure was being stubborn about this.
"Perhaps, but you don't know that for certain. Things are what they are, and we can only move forward. There's no sense in dwelling on the past, nor on what could've been."
"You sound like a wise man, Leonardo." Her words sounded like a faded whisper. Feeling tired, Paige shut her eyes, which seared her eyes with a burning sensation. Her stomach rolled with each wave that the ship crested over the waves. Despite the pain, despite the nausea, she could feel sleep pulling her under.
"If you think I'm wise," Leonardo said with a wistful smile on his face. "You should meet my father. Wisest man I've ever met."
Her breathing was slowing down, growing more heavy as she slowly drifted away, and she smiled faintly. "Asking me to meet your dad," She murmured. "you sure move fast for a turtle… I'm still waiting on that burger though."
Leonardo eyes softened, shaking his head with a chuckle. "Of course. Cheeseburger, right?"
"Medium… extra onions… and don't forget the –"
"Chocolate milkshake?" He finished. "Yeah, I wouldn't dare."
They lapsed into a comfortable silence, and Leonardo listened to her rhythmic breathing. Slow and steady, and once she'd fallen into a deep slumber, her fingers slowly uncurled from his hand. He hadn't minded holding her hand as a means of comfort, but he carefully took his back so he could sit in a more comfortable position.
He sat back, and folded his legs underneath him into a meditative pose. Perhaps meditation could clear his head, and help him think of an escape plan.
He hadn't sat for long, or the silence was broken when he heard the metallic creak of the door opening up. Leonardo peeked his eyes open through small slits to find Fabian walking down the corridor. With hands shoved deeply in his pockets the mutated man strolled forward, and whilst blatantly ignoring him, continued further down until he reached the cell of the Avian woman.
Standing in front of her cell, he rapped his knuckles against the bars.
When the woman woke, and found Fabian by her cell, she jolted to her feet. "Wait. No – please, no!" She began to plead with him, but he simply shrugged in response.
"Not my call, birdie."
Fabian opened up the cage, and the woman crawled into a corner trying to keep him away from her with her wings. With an annoyed huff he snatched one of the wings out of the air, and pulled her forward. He then grabbed her by the wrist and started dragging her with him out of the cage. She desperately tried to get away, clawing at his hand, but his fingers held a death grip on her wrist.
Leonardo started to come up from the ground.
"Don't." Roth warned, reaching out through the bars to catch Leonardo's arm, and pulled him back down. "I commend your bravery, but you do not want to interfere with this."
"But –"
"There's nothing you can do." Roth told him gravely. "There's nothing any of us can do."
Conflicted, Leonardo turned his head and watched as Fabian dragged the poor woman with him. All the while she was wailing and pleading with Fabian to have mercy on her.
Once they were gone, and the door shut behind them, Leonardo could still hear the tormented howls of the woman, and guiltily listened as they slowly faded away.
"What are they going to do to her?" Leonardo asked.
For a moment, Roth considered his answer, and then released a deep and troubled sigh. "She'll be drained."
"Drained?" Leonardo repeated, puzzled and somewhat horrified. "Drained of what?"
"You okay, bro?" Michelangelo asked, squatting in front of Raphael who sat on the lowest step of the stairs, rubbing his eyes. Michelangelo then raised his hand to hold up two fingers in Raphael's face. "How many fingers am I holding up?"
With a deeply annoyed look, Raphael grumbled, "Sixteen. Now bugger off." He swatted Michelangelo's hand away. "I'm fine."
"So you also came here to find her brother," Donatello said, gesturing towards the horned girl as he summarised what the two girls had told them so far. "And he was captured by Stockman's men?"
"About two weeks ago." The blonde nodded, putting her hands in the front pocket of her black hoodie.
"They're not Stockman's men though," The horned girl clarified hastily, both hands on her hips, puffing out her chest. Donatello noticed she only had four fingers. "He might have them on his payroll, but those men work for Jane Crawley. She's the leader of the Crawley boys."
"Otherwise known as the Bleeding Heart Gang." The blonde explained further. "They're pretty notorious in Europe for trafficking in aliens and mutants, and they collect anything that is not –" she stopped to bite her lower lip. Whether it was to contemplate her words or either to stop herself from saying what she was about to say, Donatello was not sure of which. After a brief pause, she continued. "They just like to get their hands on anything that is not quite normal." She then put a hand to her chin, brows furrowed in thought. "Guess they really did expand their business overseas."
"And why should we believe anything you tell us?" Raphael said with a coarse growl, getting up and stepping forward.
"Oh, well, that is – because – I mean –" The blonde sputtered, cheeks turning a crimson red.
"Because," The horned girl interjected, stepping forward with a hand on her friend's shoulder. "if we combine what we know, we might actually be able to find both our brothers."
Donatello regarded the odd pair with curiosity. The blonde, a chubby young woman with big brown eyes - who was clearly human - stood tall and yet timidly next to the poised, short and slender horned girl. His eyes caught the shape of her digitigrade legs underneath her cloak. What she was, he had no idea. But from what he'd gathered so far she possessed some kind of telepathic and telekinetic abilities.
Which fascinated him quite a bit, and he had a million questions running through his head. But this wasn't the time, nor place. Without Leo here he had to keep his curiosities in check. And instead of asking about how her abilities worked, or how much weight she could actually lift with her mind, he kept the focus on the situation at hand.
"How did you know to look for this place?"
The horned girl's unnatural pink eyes turned to Donatello, looking troubled. "It would be difficult to explain…"
"How 'bout ya try it anyway." Raphael scowled, crossing his arms.
"There's something here that belongs to her brother," The blonde said apprehensively, "and we tracked it."
Donatello raised one eye-ridge. That wasn't much of an answer.
"Don't know about you guys," Michelangelo chimed in, scratching the side of his head, feeling a little confused. "but that didn't sound all that difficult to understand. Or is it just me?"
"It's always just you, Mikey," Raphael grumbled, narrowing his eyes in suspicion at the girls. "they're being deliberately vague. Doesn't exactly scream, trust us, now does it."
"It's as much of the truth as you're going to get. For now, anyway." The horned girl said pointedly, and this time she looked at them with suspicion. "How did you guys find this place anyway?"
"We used one of the trucks that belong to Stockman's hired men to track down their most visited locations. Aside from the underground laboratory and the harbour, this was the only other place." Donatello explained.
"The harbour?"
"Raph here got one of those Crawley goons to spill their plans." Michelangelo said proudly, nudging his brother with a grin, who gave him a shove in return.
"It seems that they're relocating everyone by ship." Donatello continued. "Our brother Leo's on it. Most likely your brother is as well. We hoped to find a clue as to where they're taking him."
The two girls shared a knowing glance. Then, suddenly, the blonde started shaking her head and the horned girl threw her hands out. The blonde ran a hand over her face, and began pacing, hands motioning as she did, as if she were speaking without words. The horned girl placed one hand on her hip, the other gestured towards the three turtle brothers. It appeared they were having a discussion, and they did not want them in on it.
"Uh… what's going on, Donnie?" Michelangelo asked, head moving from side to side as he watched the blonde pace around.
"I could be wrong," Donatello began cautiously. "but I believe they're communicating telepathically."
"Err... rude?" Michelangelo said, starting forward and waving at the girls. "Hey." He got no response as the girls continued their silent discussion, and he cupped his hands in front of his mouth and shouted, "Hello?!"
Still, they ignored him.
Fed up with it all, Raphael strode towards the blonde, and grabbed her by her wrist.
Startled, she tried to pull away, but he held on tight and leaned his snout in closer to her face. "How 'bout the two of ya start talkin' with yer mouths instead of yer brains, and tell us what ya know?"
The girls shared another long look, and the horned girl gestured towards Raphael as if telling her friend to go ahead and speak.
"Okay," The blonde said, eyes on Raphael's hand on her wrist, and he slowly let her go so he could cross his arms over his chest. She fumbled with the hem of her sleeve. "I'm Charlotte, and this is Bexx," she nodded her head in her friend's direction. "and we're pretty sure her and your brother are headed for Tyhle Island."
Baxter Stockman was a tired man.
That was one of the few disadvantages of having his normal, human body back. And while his eyelids were heavy, and his mind a little foggy, he welcomed the long and wide-jawed yawn like a long lost friend. Sleep was a precious thing, and he looked forward to the soft feel of silky smooth sheets against his skin. He sighed wearily before he finally entered the last long corridor he needed to walk in order to reach his room on this damned ship.
Frustration and anger welled up again, because it had been a terribly long night with all sorts of unforeseen complications. First, those insolent Mutant Turtles had infiltrated his laboratory, killed several of his creations, and three of them actually managed to escape his grasp. Which was because those foolish men had detonated the bombs way too early. Resulting in not only the Turtle's escaping, but also the loss of one of the most interesting creatures he'd ever set eyes upon. Thank god he still had its mate on this ship.
Then, he had to enter a multitude of arguments with those simpletons that he'd employed via that horrible Crawley woman. Apparently they were still missing the last shipment from the Sanatorium. All in all, Stockman had grown frustrated beyond measure.
He quickly opened the door to his cabin, entered the living room, took off his coat and threw it over the couch. He screamed at the sight of the desiccated woman lying on it. Her body, a deflated husk of its former self. Dried out flesh was pulled taut over the bones in her face, leaving hollowed out cheeks. Her jaw was set in a wide open scream. Terror-struck, her pale, empty eyes stared into nothingness.
Stockman glanced around, and found the floor littered with feathers. Apparently most had fallen off her wings and decorated his room. He heard the ruffle of sheets, and his eyes fell upon his bed on the other side of the room. There, in nothing but a flimsy black night-gown, lay the creator of this horrid scene.
"Did you have to that in here?" Stockman grumbled irritably, and walked up to his bed.
Blonde hair lay sprawled over his sheets, and like a cat after having eaten its dinner she stretched her body out. Long slender arms reached far above her head, and her bright green eyes looked up at him with amusement.
"I was hungry." She purred, rolling over onto her stomach. With her chin propped up in the palms of her hands she grinned, legs playfully wagging behind her. She looked like a teen ready to gossip.
"I don't care much for your appetite, woman," Stockman scowled, raising his chin with indignation. "And I don't want you doing that kind of horrid stuff in here."
"Fine," She huffed, and rolled off the bed. She combed her fingers through her long blonde hair. "I should've known you were going to be tedious about this."
"You have your own cabin, Helena." Stockman said dryly, and grabbed everything he needed to take a long overdue shower.
"I couldn't find it." She followed him into the bathroom, and leaned against the jamb. With arms crossed beneath her breasts, the thin fabric left nothing to the imagination. "I also wished to speak to you."
Stockman released a deep, exasperated breath, placing both hands on the pearly white sink. "I don't know any more than you do. If she survives –"
"When she survives." Helena interrupted, eyes narrowing with contempt.
"This isn't the first time we've attempted this." Stockman argued, looking back at Helena via the mirror. "We have been here before. To assume we've succeeded prematurely would be fatuous."
"We don't have much time." She warned, lowering her head, eyes narrowing. "I'm growing more ravenous by the day."
Stockman shuddered at the image of the drained Avian woman still lying on his couch. He tried to remain impassive. "So I've noticed."
"We're running out of Y'Lyntians for me to consume and sustain my body."
"Correction." Stockman turned around, a sly grin on his face as he looked at her. He pointed at her, and she eyed his finger like she was about to bite it off. "You're running out of Y'Lyntians to consume." He jabbed a thumb at his chest, looking proud and perfectly content. "My body is perfect, just the way it is."
Helena's plump lips smiled slyly. "Everything has its place, Stockman," Her green eyes turned a fiery red, burning with malice. "forgetting yours would be ill-advised." Her smile disappeared and her golden hair began to float around her head, as if electricity was running through them. "Without me you would not have your body." She moved forward, getting up close in his face. "Without me you would've withered and decayed like your previous attempt."
Firm and self-assured, Stockman remained where he stood. It wasn't the first time she'd threatened him. "And without me you would've still been held captive by Bishop."
Her red eyes narrowed dangerously. "We made a deal." She hissed, grabbing his chin, her nails digging painfully into his skin as she turned his face towards the mirror. Her red eyes were glowing and his skin began to ripple and boils and dark spots began to form. His skin started to peel back to reveal bloodied muscle. "If I don't get my end of the bargain, I will make sure you will suffer long and hard before I'll finally let you meet your end."
Stockman cried out in fear, broke free from her hold and touched his face to find it still intact. He regarded her then, eyes filled with horror.
"I promise," He said, the tremble of fear creeping into his voice. "I will keep up my end of the deal, damn it! You will get yourself that vessel. The minute we know the mutation worked, we'll get to work."
Sheesh, sorry about it taking longer than expected. First half of the chapter seemingly wrote itself, the second half I kept second-guessing how I wanted it to play out.
Eventually I ended up with something I liked. I hope you guys did as well.
Thank you so much for reading!