Lost in the Pages
The library was filled with the sound of pages turning, the fresh smell of books in the air, and the soft whispers of readers. Erin walked between the rows of bookshelves, her steps light and quiet across the polished floor. She came here often, checking out books and gathering new ideas for her own stories. The library was her escape—her portal to different worlds where she could leave reality behind and dive into fantasy.
She went to the comic book section, her fingers gliding along the spines until she spotted one that caught her attention—a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles comic. A small smile crossed her lips as she pulled it from the shelf. Tucking it under her arm, she walked over to an empty table, settled into a chair, and opened the book.
As she turned the pages, she became engrossed in the action—the turtles moving across rooftops, their weapons ready, the dark city skyline stretching behind them. But then... something felt wrong.
The air around her grew thick and heavy as if time itself had stilled. A chill ran down her spine as she looked up, realizing everyone in the library was frozen. A woman mid-step, a librarian reaching for a book, even the clock on the wall—the world had stopped moving.
Her heartbeat quickened. What's happening?
Before she could process it, the comic pages began flipping on their own, faster and faster, like an invisible wind was tearing through them. A bright light burst from the book, blinding her. She instinctively shielded her eyes, fear knotting in her stomach.
Then, silence.
Slowly, she lowered her hands, blinking against the sudden darkness. But when her vision cleared, her breath caught in her throat.
She wasn't in the library anymore.
She was standing on a city rooftop, and the wind whipped through her hair. Tall buildings surrounded her, glowing signs flickered in the distance, and the sound of traffic rumbled below. And then. A sharp inhale. She spun around. Four figures stood a few feet away, staring at her with wide, wary eyes. Four mutant ninja turtles. Her pulse pounded in her ears. She had ended up inside the TMNT comic book. The turtles looked just as confused as she was. Their postures were tense, hands gripping their weapons, ready for anything. The blue-masked leader took a cautious step forward, his expression unreadable.
"Who are you?" Leonardo asked, his sharp gaze sweeping over her.
Erin swallowed hard, her mind scrambling for an explanation. "My name is Erin, and... I'm not from this world."
The turtles exchanged glances. Even for them—mutant turtles living in the sewers—this sounded unbelievable. She noticed Donatello's eyes light up with curiosity, his brain already working through the possibilities. Ever the goofball, Michelangelo grinned in excitement while Raphael remained stiff, his sai still gripped tightly in his hands. He was clearly the most skeptical.
"Not from this world?" Leo repeated, tilting his head slightly. "Then what world are you from?"
She let out a breath, trying to piece it together. "Well… in my world, this is just a comic book. I was in the library reading your story, and then... something happened. A light, and now I'm here." She hesitated, a wave of uncertainty washing over her. "I don't know how to get back. I don't even know if I can."
A heavy silence settled between them.
Finally, Leo turned to his brothers, their silent exchange ending in a unified nod. He faced her once more, his expression softening—just a little.
"For now, let's get you somewhere safe," he decided. "Our home. I'm Leonardo, but you can call me Leo. The one in red is Raphael, the one in orange is Michelangelo—Mikey—and the guy in purple is Donatello, Donnie."
Erin hesitated, then managed a small, grateful smile. "I'm Erin Sinclair. It's a pleasure to meet you."
With that, the turtles turned, leading her down a nearby fire escape. They slipped into the shadows of an alleyway, lifting a manhole cover and motioning for her to follow.
The sewers were… exactly how she imagined them: cold, damp, and carrying a scent she'd instead not think about. She had read about the turtles' home before, but being here was something else entirely. The darkness pressed around her, the echoes of dripping water filling the tunnels.
As they walked, she caught bits of whispered conversation between Leo and Raph, their hushed voices betraying their unease. Donnie kept sneaking curious glances at her, no doubt already brainstorming theories. On the other hand, Mikey just grinned, seemingly thrilled to have a new guest.
Erin hugged her arms, trying to shake off the feeling of being completely lost. She had no idea how she had gotten here or how to get back.
Was she stuck here forever?
Eventually, they reached a door into the turtles' hidden lair. The door opened, and Erin stumbled forward, her sneakers scuffing against rough concrete. She barely had time to register the swirling colors around her before she landed hard on the cold, uneven floor. She blinked rapidly, her breath hitching as her eyes adjusted to the dim, flickering light.
The air smelled of metal, old machinery, and—was that pizza?
Slowly, Erin pushed herself up, her heart hammering in her chest. She wasn't in the library anymore. Surrounding her was what looked like an abandoned subway station, but it had been repurposed into something much more... alive.
In the center of the space, a raised circular platform stood like a relic of the past, its stone edges worn but still sturdy. A wide staircase curved around it, leading down into the heart of the lair. Overhead, mismatched lights and exposed wiring gave the place an underground bunker feel, and the distant sound of water dripping echoed through the cavernous space.
To the left, a chaotic cluster of workbenches, turbine mixers, and mysterious objects were scattered around. Some were recognizable—wires, toolboxes, half-dismantled tech—but others were utterly alien to her. Screens lined the walls, flickering with static, and an extensive service pit nearby suggested this place saw more than just basic home repairs.
Further down, something caught her eye—tattered posters, a small desk, and even a chest full of random knickknacks. Even butterflies were pinned to a board next to stacks of books, a strange contrast to the otherwise industrial setting. A sign labeled "new EXIT" was scrawled messily in marker as if someone had recently created a makeshift escape route.
To her right, a kitchen was tucked into a corner, with an old but functioning fridge, a battered table, and—of course—pizza boxes stacked on nearly every available surface. Not far from there, a set of bathrooms was marked, though she wasn't sure how much privacy they offered in a place like this.
Her gaze traveled further, locking onto a shadowed hallway leading to what looked like a private chamber. A large tree stood near the entrance—a tree? Down here?—its presence oddly soothing amid the concrete and steel. Next to it, a quiet, closed-off room sat apart from the rest. Something about it felt... different. Important.
Then, she spotted four individual sleeping areas, each labeled Leo, Raph, Mikey, and Donnie. It clicked. No way.
Erin's stomach flipped. This wasn't just any underground hideout.
She was in the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles' lair.