Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Fan Fiction ❯ Bad Places II: Rebirth ❯ 5 ( Chapter 5 )

Part 5

The streetlamps were all shattered, Mike huddled with Casey as much for the safety behind the dumpster as a fear of running over broken glass. There was a way to walk over glass without being cut, Splinter made them do it all the time, but he'd never had a mess of elites on him at the same time. Another wave of shuriken peppered the wall above their heads, embedded into the bricks. Casey winced and pulled out one that had tumbled into his lap.

"Either we get out of here soon," Casey said, "or we're gonna end up pincushions."

"Hey, you find a way out and I'll be right behind you," Mike said. He listened for rushing footsteps or battle cries, but there was nothing, only the occasional whistle of metal flying overhead. "Although I think if they wanted to kill us, they'd of tried it by now."

"Not that I mind," Casey said, "but what're they waiting for?"

Mike frowned and tried to think despite another wave or throwing stars. "Well, if I had to guess, I'd say it's a trap and we're the bait."

"Trap?" Casey echoed. "Twenty elite out there, Mike. That's one heck of a trap."

"You got a better theory?" Mike snapped.

"Not really." Casey leaned back and sighed. "Sucks to be bait."

A sharp scream came from the darkness. Taking a chance, Mike stood and peered over the dumpster, and he spotted his brother running towards him. "Raph, you came!"

"Of course I came," Raph said. "You two okay?"

"Yeah, we're good." He winced as he heard another scream and looked down the alley, but he couldn't see anything in the darkness. "What's happening?"

"They sprang their trap," Raph said, "but I don't think they like what they caught."

In the street, Leo stood surrounded by nineteen elites and countless regular ninja, and he guessed there had to be a few cloaked foot tech as well. No matter. He held both swords out in an easy stance, his first elite face down at his feet, blood pooling on the pavement. Leo looked up at the pack.

"You wanted me," he said. "You got me. Who's next?"

A handful of regulars jumped in close around him. Once they all came within range, he spun, swords fully extended, cutting across throats, stomachs, faces. A few fell screaming, one even trying to crawl away with a hand clutched over his slit eyes. The rest fell or knelt, silent in shock, trying to hold their intestines in before collapsing.

"I guess you heard about what I did to the other elites," Leonardo said. He relaxed, one sword pointed at the ground and the other held over his shoulder as like Casey held his bats. None of them came any closer, glancing amongst themselves for reassurance. "They fell easily. Honestly, the hardest part was chasing one down when he ran from me. He's the one who lost his head."

He flipped his sword from behind his back and pointed it before him, indicating all of the ninja around him. "And you know, I can't let any of you leave to tell your master what I've become."

He sensed the throwing star flying towards his throat before he heard it. He waited for it to come closer before flicking his katana, striking it with the flat of the sword. It tumbled and came to rest on the pavement. With a heavy sigh, he lowered his head. "If you can't be bothered to come to me..." He looked up and started to smile. "Then I'll just have to come to you."

A head went flying before he'd taken two steps. April wasn't here. He disemboweled the nearest body and turned, dodging a laser beam and taking off the shooter's arm. The hot blood raised the temperature of the air around it a little. April wasn't here to watch him kill. In the dark, no one could see him kill, not even the dying. Bit by bit, he felt the collective ki of the enemies around him disappearing from his maai, making him feel like they drowned simply by coming too close.

Had he ever been so sensitive to the life force or others? A ripple told him a cloaked ninja was coming up from behind and he knelt suddenly, bringing both swords straight back over his head. He felt them hit the ninja's chest, tearing through the ribs and chopping through the heart and lungs. Electricity sparked as the suit short-circuited and he drew his swords out as fast as he could, feeling nothing more than a brief tingle. No, he'd never sensed a cloaked enemy before. Something had jacked his senses far beyond normal. He didn't think about it beyond enjoying the flying blood. Already it coated his swords and dripped down to the hilts, covering his hands.

A shame there were only thirty or so. He was used to much larger groups. And no guilt! Without responsibility, without guilt, without anyone watching and worrying that he'd turned into a monster himself, he could finally fight the way he was meant to. Their swords came close, their bursts of laser crackled above his skin, but nothing touched him. As intangible as the wind, as fast as a thought, and they couldn't even mark him. In the back of his mind he knew that if any of them managed to grab him, to get a hold on his wrist or arm, he'd be helpless.

If he didn't sever their hands. No fear. None, none at all. Blood flew into his face and he wiped it clear with the back of his arm. He knew he was getting cocky. He'd stopped aiming to kill awhile ago. Now he merely aimed to incapacitate, as his brothers called it. He called it dismemberment. An arm, a leg, a head, internal organs spilling onto the street--

A hand grabbed his wrist. Stunned, he looked up at the elite who'd caught him. Even the elite was surprised. It was simply dumb luck, without strategy or technique. Too surprised to react properly, the elite merely threw him to the ground, letting go in the process. Leonardo couldn't even resist the throw, instead rolling and coming back up on one knee.

Leo noticed then that the street had turned silent. This elite was the only one left. For a moment they stared at each other. And then the elite started to smile. Chills ran through Leo's spine. He knew. Dammit, just one lucky grab and the elite knew.

And armed with that knowledge, the elite turned and ran. Leo cursed and gave chase. To his surprise, he found his left shoulder throbbing with every step, forcing him to either deal with the increasing pain or slow down. The elite must have thrown him harder than he'd first thought. With his good arm he grabbed a throwing knife from his belt and raised it up, aiming for the elite's back. A second later, the elite turned a corner and disappeared.

Leo palmed the knife and kept running.

Left behind in the street, Raphael could only peer into the darkness after his brother. He cursed and looked back at Mike. At least he and Casey were all right.

Behind him, he heard the sound of an car's engine coming closer and turned, already backing into the darkest shadows. Instead of passing them, though, the van pulled up and Donatello leaned out the window.

"Thank God you're all okay. Did Leo...?"

"Kill everyone that wasn't us? Yeah." Without streetlamps, all Raphael had to see by was a neon ATM sign, which made the blood covering the street look like it was glowing. "God, it's even worse this time. His kills aren't even clean."

No one asked him what he meant by that. Casey didn't want to know and the other two could guess.

"But I don't get it," Raph continued. "He said he didn't like it, that he more pride in defeating them, not slaughtering them. Why would he...I mean, he didn't have to..."

"I don't think he has a choice anymore," Don said. "I left the paperwork with April, but I think Leo can't help killing. If I'm right, then it's a miracle he'd held out even this long."

"Whaddaya mean?" Mike asked.

Don opened his mouth to explain, then shook his head. "I'll explain on the way. Get in."

"Where we going?" Raph asked, coming around to the passenger side.

Once they were all in, Donatello revved the engine and took off down the streets. "After him. I've got his locator beacon keyed into the van. Three guesses where he's headed."

"He took off after the last elite," Raph said. "They could be going in circles."

"Nope, check it out." Donatello tapped the screen. "Foot headquarters."

"So it was a trap!" Mike said, leaning over Raph's shoulder. "Just to get Leo there."

"We already guessed that," Raph said, then looked at Donatello. "But what did you mean that Leo can't stop killing?"

Donatello took a deep breath, and everyone else in the van settled in with a sigh. Whenever Donatello started like that, everyone abandoned all hope of a short explanation. "You remember Stockman was originally using his pocket dimension to dump all his chemical byproducts without having to worry about environmental laws? I've looked over his old records. A lot of those were the usual chemicals, alkalines and oils, but he had a lot of radioactive material as well. He also had a lot of failed experimental mutagens, reminiscent of what he'd learned while working for Shredder."

"But dude, that mutagen worked quick," Mike said. "Wouldn't we all have changed immediately?"

"I don't think so. Stockman didn't have the exact compounds needed to make our kind of mutagen. He didn't have the exact equations and he definitely didn't have access to interstellar elements off our periodic table. He had to make do with substitutes, and because of that, he had a lot of botched experiments. Mix that with everything else he stuffed in that dimension and it's no wonder he had monsters breeding down there."

"Okay, but what does that have to do with Leo?" Raph asked.

There was no way to soften the news. Donatello winced as he told them. "Leo's genetic structure is drifting to match that of the things you called feeders."

Silence. Donatello rushed to explain before they could try to argue. "It started with his eyes. They're aren't injured, they just see differently. His hearing has become far more acute, and if his homicidal urges are anything to go by, he's got the same bloodlust the feeders have, he just isn't eating his kill."

"Yet," Raph grumbled. "Wait a sec, what about us? I was starting to adapt to that place, too."

"The genetic drift was starting to affect both of you as well, but you came out before it could become anything near permanent. He was in for three months. The changes had a chance to take hold."

"Wouldn't that have affected the humans with him?" Casey asked. "The black dude and the blonde chick? How come they ain't all 'grr, arg'?"

"You have to remember, we've been exposed to mutagen before. Felix and Chanta haven't. Their genetics are far more stable than ours." By their blank stares he noticed that he'd lost them and tried another tack. "In other words, it's easier to make mutants mutate further."

"Oh man," Mike said. "You mean Leo's a teenage mutant mutant ninja turtle?"

"Not if I can help it," Raph said. "There's gotta be a way to fix it, right Donny?"

"The solution might be rather simple. This started because he was exposed to feeder genetics. If we re-expose him to a high concentration of our genetics, he should come back to normal." He glanced down at the screen and brought the van to a halt, nearly throwing Mike over the seat. "We're ahead of him. He should be here any minute now."

Raphael nodded. "Let's go."

Two blocks away, Leo growled under his breath. This elite had led him over several city blocks, up a fire escape, down between two five-story buildings the hard way, and then back up a fire escape again, always turning a corner or running around an air conditioner unit so that Leo never had a clear shot with his knife. He only had one. He couldn't afford to miss. So he ran.

After the first block, he'd realized he was being herded somewhere, but he found he didn't care if there was an even larger ambush waiting for him. He could kill anything Shredder set in his path. So he'd gotten a little cocky, so what? Luck was blind and dumb. No one could plan for that. He'd just go for fast kills from now on. For now, he simply followed after his prey, leaping over the rooftops and occasionally using the streetlamps as stepping stones over streets.

Geez, how long was this elite gonna keep going? Leo barely recognized this part of the city. He hadn't looked up in several minutes, focusing solely on the elite. He forced himself to look up and get his bearings.

Well. Only half a mile from Foot headquarters. Couldn't say he was surprised. Of course that meant that in just a few seconds--

He let the knife fly. There were no more air conditioner units or protruding access stairwells or ventilation shafts. These buildings all had self-contained ventilation systems, and that meant the elite had run out of places to hide. With a satisfying thok, the blade sank deep into the center of his back and an inch out of his chest, and he fell forward onto the cement.

Slowing to a walk, Leonardo stepped beside him and knelt, yanking out the knife. As he wiped the edge off on the elite's clothes to clean it, he noticed how blood soaked his hands were. "What I wouldn't give for a little rain about now," he said, then looked down at the elite. "Nice try. Almost made it, too."

"My master..." the elite rasped, coughing up blood, "...is invincible. He will strike you down. He will...avenge all of our deaths."

Leo chuckled. "Hate to tell you this, the guy doesn't even know your name. You were just a throwing star to him." He slapped the ninja's back, ignoring the groan of pain. "But hey, if it's any consolation, I know how exactly how you feel. Even the knife in the back part."

"Is that so?" Raph asked.

Startled, Leonardo came to his feet and found his brothers all standing on the far side of the roof between him and the last block to the Foot headquarters. He took a deep breath and lowered his knife. "Nothing like your entire family thinking you're insane to make you feel welcome."

Raph shook his head. "I never said you--"

"Oh, right. Borderline psycho. Big difference." He looked over their heads at the old Foot headquarters. Somehow Shredder's tech soldiers had brought the electronics back to life after Donatello fried their circuits, although they hadn't put the red insignia back on. So Shredder had learned a little discretion. Or he was afraid of Leonardo's sword. The bloody message from yesterday probably hadn't left him feeling any more secure.

Blood. He smelled it coming out of the elite, now dead at his feet, but there was much more to be had inside that tower. Why put it off? He was just going to come back and kill them all anyway. He imagined torrents of blood rushing through the building like a river, pouring from slit throats, severed limbs, bodies cut neatly in two.

"Leo," Don started, "you're not insane. It's all because of Stockman's game. Look, I know I promised you weren't changing into one of those things but you are. We have to get you home now. Leo?"

"Save your breath," Raph said, looking at his older brother. "He can't hear you."

The entire foot clan. Leonardo nodded to himself. It shouldn't take very long, just one night. There were more levels, but they were much smaller than the levels in the game and many more ways to climb up. No survivors, not after they'd try to kill his friends, his...brothers? He looked up at his siblings as if he'd forgotten they were there, standing between him and the clan. "Out of my way."

With a familiar sinking feeling, Raphael drew his sais. "You told me that once. The answer's the same."

Leo frowned. He couldn't waste effort on his brother and risk storming the tower exhausted, which would happen if he had to fight Raphael and hold back his killing blows. He'd just have to take him out as fast as he'd done the elite. "I'm only doing this to protect you."

"You're losing yourself," Raph said. "I know you've been fighting it, but the thing inside you is getting stronger, Leo. You try to kill Shredder like this, you'll just end up dead."

"I might die tonight," Leo agreed. "But I'll take the entire clan with me, Saki included. And then we'll never have to worry about fighting them again. All that weight will be gone."

"That weight..." Raph whispered, thinking how much easier the burden of responsibility would feel without the foot. But at the cost of a brother, their death came at too high a price. "...is not yours to reclaim. It's mine now. You gave it up."

"I ran from it," Leo said. "Slight difference. You've let me take it up during fights. So I'm taking it back, just for the night."

"Leo--"

"Don't worry. When I come back, you can have it again. Now...back up, before I back you up."

Instead Raphael stood ready for an attack. Beside him, Mike and Donatello put their hands on their weapons, about to take them out.

Leonardo beat them to it, coming forward with his knife ready. Raphael, dead on the ground. Raphael, alive but spilling blood over the side of the roof. Raphael, without one arm. Raphael, with a slit throat. The images keyed in his mind and the desire to take Raphael apart piece by bloody piece surged through him. Part of him shuddered to even think of it, but a small part, growing larger every minute, relished the thought of fratricide and added his youngest brothers to the pile.

I have to get away from them, Leo thought, take this to Shredder. Yes, kill Shredder, kill the entire clan, they're our enemies, kill them all to protect these three--

Raphael deflected the knife from his arm, realizing too late that it was a feint. A punch to the head made him see stars and a roundhouse kick in his stomach sent him flying on top of Mike. And then Leo was gone, over the side of the building and out of their sight. It didn't take much effort to find handholds along the wall like window sills and cracks in the masonry and he landed easily on the ground. Without pausing, he used the shadows to hide from the few people on the street until he stood directly across from the tower, their front lobby still brightly lit with several people inside, from the secretaries at the desk to men waiting in their plush chairs to a few office employees walking back and forth between rooms. He watched them for a moment. No one ever went to the desk to ask a question, the secretaries never answered a phone and the office walkers simply made their rounds, never staying in an office for even a minute.

A trap, then, and all of them were Shredder's soldiers, perhaps even elites out of uniform. He put the knife away and took out his swords. Well, if they'd taken the trouble to prepare a trap, who was he not to spring it? With a deep breath, he waited for the street to clear.

They would die first. He'd have to do it somewhere out of sight so no one outside would see the blood. And then he'd turn off the lights to make it easier on himself. Killing so many people would be hard enough without the glare of florescent bulbs overhead. Finally the street was clear enough to pass. He crossed over and opened the front door.

TBC...