April and the Ninja Turtles
Chapter 1
It was six in the morning, and her alarm clock on the nightstand had just gone off. With an exhausted sigh, a young red-haired woman pulled the covers over her head, trying to steal a few more minutes of sleep. However, she quickly remembered that the alarm wasn't ringing for nothing—it was her last chance not to be late for her internship. In one swift motion, she jumped out of bed and threw off her pajamas, replacing them with the outfit she had prepared in advance: a gray t-shirt, dark blue jeans, and her lucky pair of purple socks.
Now standing in front of her mirror, she grabbed her hairbrush and engaged in a battle with her wavy, untamable red hair, before tying it back into a modest ponytail. She gave her pale face a quick glance and tapped her cheeks to wake herself up, then nodded to herself with determination. She headed toward her kitchen, which also served as her living room and bedroom, considering she lived in a two-room apartment. She opened her nearly empty fridge, grabbed an apple, slammed the door shut, and turned to pick up her keys from the table.
Her hands were trembling from nerves as she locked the door behind her—only to realize she had forgotten to put on her shoes. She rolled her eyes, cursing herself for being so absent-minded on such an important day. She went back in, put on her pair of combat boots, and finally left for her internship. On her way to the bus stop, she took a few bites of her apple, hoping her stomach wouldn't growl all morning. Suddenly, a man bumped into her, making her drop the apple, which bounced on the pavement.
"Sorry, sir!" she apologized, turning around, but the man—twice her width—didn't even look back. Something unusual caught her eye: a scar ran across his face. She picked up the apple, brushed it off, grimaced at the embedded gravel, and tossed it into the nearest trash can. No breakfast for her today.
She then heard brakes screeching nearby—it was her bus! She couldn't miss it, or punctuality would be out the window. She had no choice. Taking a deep breath, she ran across the street after a quick glance both ways, just as the bus signaled it was about to leave. Focused solely on catching it, she ran without noticing the car that stopped abruptly, honking at her.
"S-Sorry!" she called out, still running. She reached the closed bus doors and knocked urgently.
"Really sorry," she told the driver with a nervous laugh, handing over her ticket.
The bus didn't wait for her to get seated and jerked forward, almost sending her flying, under the disapproving stares of the other passengers. With a relieved sigh, she sat by the window, watching the buildings slide by behind the dirty glass. She took a deep breath and began to rehearse in a low voice.
"Hi, I'm April O'Neil, your new intern!" she said, practicing a smile before shaking her head at how silly she sounded.
"Hello, April O'Neil. It's an honor, sir." She tried again, frowning, unaware of the older woman across from her staring.
"Hi, I'm intern April O'Neil, I'm your biggest fan! No, no, that's way too casual," she muttered to herself, sighing in an attempt to release her stress—without success. She decided to take her phone out of her pocket to watch a boxing match video to relax, a dopey smile stuck on her dreamy face as she admired the piles of muscle fighting — her secret fantasy.
The bus stopped, and the young intern stepped out, finding herself in front of one of New York's tallest buildings, proudly displaying four letters: T.C.R.I. Her green eyes locked onto the antenna stabbing the sky, and she tightened her grip on her yellow faux leather jacket before walking toward the glass automatic doors and into the lobby. The receptionist looked up from her computer, ready to greet her in the pristine, luxurious office space.
"You must be April, the intern?" she asked with a smile, getting up to show her the way when April nodded.
"Y-Yes! Nice to meet you, Intern O'Neil. It's an honor!" April blurted out, immediately flushing with embarrassment at her stammer.
"Haha! You'll want to say all that to Mr. Stockman, dear," the receptionist chuckled with a falsely sweet smile, her insincerity radiating from a mile away.
They walked down a hallway toward the elevator in silence. Only once the doors had closed and the receptionist had swiped her access card did she speak again, lowering her voice.
"Mr. Stockman has never taken on interns before. You must be someone really special," she said, leaning slightly to the side, lips painted red in a forced smile. April didn't know how to respond, but thankfully, the elevator dinged at the right floor, and the doors opened.
The receptionist stood there, hands clasped, still smiling.
"Down the hallway," she said, then pressed the button to head back down, leaving April alone in a corridor lined with closed doors. The automatic lights took a second to flicker on as she slowly advanced, eyeing the reinforced security panels on each door. What could be hiding behind them?
Finally, she reached the last door, labeled: "Office of the Director of the T.C.R.I. Department of Biotechnological Research and Development." Taking a deep breath, April knocked three times. A camera activated to the side, scanning her face. Startled by the robotic sound, she waited a moment until a green light flashed and the door opened to reveal a large office with a panoramic window showcasing the New York skyline.
Sitting at a desk, reading various reports, was a dark-skinned man in black glasses and a white lab coat. He looked up at the red-haired young woman who stepped into his office. His analytical and serious gaze caught her off guard, but she quickly recovered, coughed into her hand, and gave her best smile.
"Hello! Intern April O'Neil. It's a real honor, Mr. Stockman. I've been a fan of your work since I was a kid." She extended her hand in hopes of easing the tension, but he simply raised an eyebrow at her trembling hand.
"Yes, O'Neil," he finally replied after a sigh, closing his files and placing them precisely on the corner of the desk. Everything was meticulously aligned, she noticed.
"Do you know why I accepted your internship request?" he asked, folding his hands and peering over his glasses.
"Well, um… I'm sure it wasn't an easy choice, considering all the talented applicants you must have had," April replied, nervously twisting her fingers behind her back.
"Because your father was one of our best scientists, and your results at Brooklyn University met my expectations for joining my team. However, I don't know who you are, nor how trustworthy and loyal you'll be," he explained, leaning back in his chair and glancing at a notification on his sleek phone.
"I've heard my father had an important role here. I'd be honored to prove myself," she answered, gaining confidence.
"Mr. O'Neil exceeded all expectations. I hope the same can be said for his daughter. A shame he perished in that fire…" Baxter sighed, tapping his fingers on the desk with annoyance.
"Well, come with me. We've got work to do," he said, standing and slipping his phone into his coat pocket.
"Take this. Be useful," he added sharply, surprising her. She grabbed the stack of documents he vaguely pointed at and followed him to a door on the left that led to another hallway.
Clumsily, a few papers slipped from her arms, and she quickly gathered them before he could notice. They passed through another door requiring a special access code, and April was amazed to find an enormous lab bustling with scientists. She paused in front of a cage holding a lab rat, then glanced at a computer screen displaying troubling data:
Mutagen Test #341.
Below, several equations described the breakdown of DNA in living beings to alter their characteristics. It was fascinating—so much so that April forgot about Dr. Stockman and rushed to catch up, careful not to disturb the focused scientists who hadn't even noticed her presence.
Baxter finally stopped in front of a door resembling a janitor's closet. He crossed his arms and looked at her.
"Your first task is to show me what you're capable of. The documents contain everything you need, and all the necessary materials are inside. You have until the end of the week," he said quickly before heading back to the elevator. He paused just long enough to add:
"Oh, and of course, this all stays confidential." Then he disappeared, leaving April stunned.
Wide-eyed, she opened the door to find a makeshift lab. There was an old computer and just the essentials for conducting experiments or building something. She set the stack of folders on the desk, blew a stray strand of hair out of her face, and sat down to review the work she'd been given. This wasn't at all what she expected on her first day at the city's most prestigious scientific company. Her idol wasn't what she had imagined either—but the biggest surprise?
She hadn't expected to be asked to build a fragmentation bomb on her very first day.
…
To be continued…