Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Fan Fiction ❯ Bad Places II: Rebirth ❯ 2 ( Chapter 2 )

Part 2

As the sun set and turned the sky purple, five shadows gathered on the roof of the small grocery on the other side of the street. The old man locked up the doors and pulled down the iron curtain to block any thieves, then started the walk home, never spotting the men on top of his shop. They stood close to the edge, waiting for April to come out and join Casey, but the blinds were closed, the lights were off, and no seemed to be inside.

When fifteen minutes passed and no one came out, they climbed down to the street and kicked in the door. Moving like a whirlwind, they entered and scanned the room for enemies and targets. No one. Cautious now, they spread out a bit, fully coming inside and even closing the door after themselves. The first one suddenly held up one hand, warning them to be silent. He'd heard something, and stared at the counter. Now that they were listening, they all could hear the conversation clearly.

"--all your fault."

"You're the one who forgot to block the front door."

"You were too slow hiding."

"Oh, blame me for...hey, did they stop moving?"

"'Cause you're so damn loud--"

"Geez, by comparison you make Mike seem quiet. They didn't notice--"

The elite glanced at each other and nodded, readying their weapons and creeping towards the counter.

"They noticed."

"Sure?"

"No, Leo, they're coming closer 'cause they wanna see what's on sale. Of course they've noticed."

"Okay, okay, plan B then."

"No. Your plan B's suck."

"Do not."

"Do too."

"Do not!"

"Your idea of a plan B is charge in and kill everyone."

"..."

The foot elite were inches from the counter, and the one in front raised his sword, ready to leap.

"Told you."

"Okay, fine." Leo sighed and considered. "How about this? Just before they come in, we record ourselves arguing on tape and when they jump the counter, we get 'em from behind?"

A sinking feeling welled in the elites' stomachs that they'd just been had, and they whirled around in time to see their two rearguard dropped to the ground, two turtles standing above them. Leo popped a few joints in his neck, readying himself for the fight.

"Finally," he said, "Foot Elite. I can kill these without worrying."

"Remember where we are," Raph said. "You wanna splatter April's shop?"

For a moment, Leo actually considered it. Blood could always be cleaned up, and the police were often good enough to do it for him. But April hadn't even looked at him earlier, and if she came home to the same kind of battle scene...

"Fine," Leo said. "I'll just break their necks. We can question the ones we already got."

In front of them, the elite shared a glance and nodded once. Leonardo briefly wondered if the elite thought he was overconfident and he couldn't help but remember his defeat at their hands. No doubt they thought he was still at that level. He sheathed one sword and raised the second. The outcome of this fight would be much different.

Just a few more minutes. The sun was almost down.

The elite came at them at once, swords up, their tight formation driving a wedge between the two brothers and separating them. Leonardo took a step back as two of them focused on him, parrying one slash and dodging another. He blinked as he straightened again. They seemed to move in slow motion, attacking as if underwater. Before they could try again, he sidestepped the closest's slash and came around him, grabbed his head and twisted.

Bones popped under his hands. The crack echoed through the shop. The two remaining elites stopped and stared at their fallen comrade's body, a bit of blood trickling from his mouth. Raphael took his chance to land a solid kick in his stunned enemy's stomach, then double-fisted him to the ground. Four down, one to go.

The last elite turned and ran. Leo froze, shocked that the elite was running and not the other way around. Then he realized why the elite was running, despite how Saki treated failure.

Ignoring his brother's yell, he chased after the elite, following him down the alley and then up a fire escape, a cold anticipation washing over him as he saw the elite look over his shoulder and found Leo running just that much faster. Memories sprang up. Before, Leonardo had kept the entire clan at bay until, exhausted and cornered, four elites overpowered him. One clan, one turtle.

There was no glare of sunlight this time. The sun was down, the sky turning darker shades of blue to purple. As the light came more from the moon and the city, he moved easier, as if the night lent him strength. Tonight, he was the elite, he was the predator. Crows and rats on the ledges and air conditioner units they passed knew the game being played, knew the players, and knew the inevitable outcome. Hopefully the predator would leave some of his kill for them to scavenge.

The elite was in arm's reach. He drew back his sword to swing and his enemy vanished over the ledge, dropping several stories. The elite landed safely on all fours, crouching to absorb the shock, and a second later a katana chopped through his spine, sticking vertically out of his back.

Looking over the side of the building, Leonardo watched the elite drop sideways on the alley, instantly paralyzed. The hunt was over. He found the fire escape beneath him and came down, never looking away from his prey. Once on the ground, he took his sword and drew it out. The elite groaned and blood began to color the pavement, slowly spreading as Leo walked around and knelt in front of him.

Leonardo looked into his pain-wracked eyes. The elite could barely crane his neck enough to see him. A rush of pleasure. Satisfaction. This elite's death would be sweeter than the other's. This one had pain turned resignation, and those flavors mixed to add fine spice to the coming kill.

"You meant to tell your master what I am now," Leo said, his voice as dark as his eyes. "How I've changed. What I've become."

He stood up and placed his sword tip on the ground next to the elite's throat. "You'll still give him a message, my message. I answer his challenge." He dragged the sword through the elite's throat, scraping the pavement and jerking it through the thick vertebrae. The head rolled a few inches away and blood pumped from the severed arteries.

The body twitched behind him as he headed back to the shop. Over the noise of traffic and the warm wind blowing through the streets, he heard the wings of crows and claws of rats as they descended on the corpse.

When he arrived at the shop, he found Raphael standing over their three captured elites, each of them bound and on the floor. Raph took one look at his brother and knew the other one was dead. He let out a breath and glanced at their prisoners. "They said they had orders to kill April and Casey," he said.

"What about Saki?" Leo asked. "Is it true?"

"I dunno," Raph said. "They won't answer me about that."

Leonardo stepped in front of the three and stared at them. "I killed your master once," he said. "Do I have to do it again?"

Silence for several seconds before one finally spoke. "The master is returned," one elite said, and the voice revealed her to be female. "Brought back from the underworld. You will not stop him."

"That's ridiculous," Raph said. "No one comes back from the dead."

She did not speak again.

"I think that's the only information we'll get," Leo said. "All that remains is what to do with them."

Raphael didn't answer. They could let them go, but they'd only return to Shredder and warn him about how Leonardo had changed. They couldn't keep them prisoners forever. That only left one choice, but--

Seeing his brother's hesitation, Leo put his hand on his brother's shoulders. "Go home. I'll catch up to you in a few minutes."

"Are you sure?" Raphael looked at him with pleading eyes, wordlessly begging for another way. Leonardo wondered if this was so terrible, and if he really had changed so much.

"Yes. I'll handle this." He waited for Raphael to leave the shop, watching him disappear back into the sewers before turning his attention back to the elites. They faced him without asking for mercy. He thought for a moment. There could be no blood, and no way to trace it back to April. Snapped necks all, then. And then because it felt wrong to simply dump them in a heap in some trash bin, he left them side by side a few alleys down and called in an anonymous tip so none of their bodies would be robbed or mistreated.

He felt a little odd afterward, as if he had found a little honor and didn't know what to do with it. So he put it out of his mind and followed after his sibling. Raphael was only halfway to the lair when he caught up, and they walked silently back home. In another habit of his Raph was noticing, Leo avoided the family and retreated to his room, leaving him to explain everything that had happened.

"It's taken care of," he said as they looked up from their seats in front of the tv. He sat down with them but didn't touch the last two slices of pizza on the table.

"It wasn't Stockman again, was it?" Mike asked.

"He's dead," Don said. "I saw it, remember?"

"It was elites," Raph said, throwing his head back and staring at the ceiling. "Five of them. They said they had orders to kill April and Casey."

Curled up next to Casey, April winced and turned her head towards him. He tightened his arm around her.

"And what of the Shredder?" Splinter asked. "Is it another person?"

"...no. They said he's back from the dead, or the underworld, whatever you call it."

Don shook his head slowly. "That's just not scientifically possible."

"Perhaps they did not use science," Splinter said. "I do not know what sorcery they are playing with, but the foot clan may have indeed found a way to cheat death."

"How's Leo handling it?" Mike asked, glancing up at his brother's room. It was dark, but that didn't mean Leo was asleep. He was probably staring at the ceiling again, which didn't seem as psychotic now that he'd painted stars like Van Gogh's Starry Night above his bed, but they all knew he wasn't really looking at the stars.

"He's more worried about how to kill him again," Raph said. "How do we do it? If they can keep bringing Shredder back..."

Splinter shook his head. There were no easy answers, or even any answers, that he could give right then. "We will simply have to wait and see."

Upstairs, Leonardo stared beyond his ceiling, remembering the fight with Shredder, the feel of his sword cutting through his enemy's neck. It had seemed so final then, one slice and the fight was over. But worse than Shredder's victory over death was Leo's memory of how he'd killed him. It took strength to take off someone's head in one strike, especially in midair. Beheading the elite had taken most of his strength. The risk of his sword becoming trapped in someone was too great to ignore.

He turned on his side and stared at the wall. There was no way to regain all of his strength, and what had returned was not enough. If Shredder was truly alive, becoming a vicious killer only brought him up to Saki's level. Without the power he'd once wielded with every stroke, the fight would be too close to call.

The artist could never win. He closed his eyes and forced himself to fall asleep. Tomorrow he would wake up as his family's sword one more time. Tomorrow he would return his mind to Stockman's hell of constant death and regain the little speed he'd lost, and Raphael would provide adequate strength training. He didn't worry about how he would bring himself back, the artistic brother who'd only recently emerged. It had taken months to come this far, and now he willingly destroyed it without concern for the future. When the time came and he confronted the Shredder, that would be decided.

One way or the other.

TBC...