Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Fan Fiction ❯ Bad Places ❯ 11 ( Chapter 11 )

Part 11

The exhilaration, the thrill of killing everything in his path and relishing their death, that he was alive and they weren't, all the joy of the game came back to him, as heady as a rich wine. His swords would never be clean again, his eyes would always look through flying blood, and there would be things to kill forever. No rules, no responsibility, no weight.

Michelangelo stumbled behind him.

The joy muted. He had to get his brothers out of here. Mike wouldn't last long in the darkness. Of his brothers, his youngest thrived on light, still played games they'd long forgotten, and couldn't stand death. Raphael was slowly adapting, but he doubted Mike would ever see in these halls.

They snuck around the next corner, surprising several feeders with a single screamer trapped in their talons, biting dripping mouthfuls from the small creature. Its screams covered their steps and heads flew before they'd turned halfway. They plopped on the floor and rolled to a stop. Arterial blood pumped from the throats as the bodies collapsed.

The screams alerted the next group of monsters early; several pockets of feeders and screamers came together and formed huge pack, cutting them off on both sides. The metallic scrape of their claws on the floor reminded him of high pitched heavy metal chords and their screeches, the roaring of death metal. Deep breath and he lunged.

Cut through a throat, blood sprayed against his arm as he followed through the head of a feeder, lopping in it half. His other sword impaled a screamer and rammed through a feeder, drawing back as he spun and slashed open a stomach, caught a leaping screamer in the air. Two halves slammed on the floor and slid to a stop against the wall. The luminescent webbing burned the skin touching it and that part of the web went dark.

Beside him, Felix slit a throat, ducked claws, drew the knife up a sternum. Whatever passed for the innards of these creatures tumbled out, the wet surfaces glistening. There should have been a smell, but the only smell was blood covering the walls and flowing by like a river roaring as loud as the demon. He cut off a screamer's leg and sliced through a feeder's side, leaving it to collapse on itself and lay on the floor, screeching as opportunistic screamers fed on it, still living.

Blood is the life, and Leo wondered how they could be covered with life and death at once. It was a minor miracle in the dark, the law of nature wrapped into a tight microcosm. Win and live, lose and die, and the rule never changed, not in this dimension or the next.

Kill.

Cut through a feeder's legs, cut off its arm arcing toward his face, cut its chest wide open. Impale a screamer, slice it midair, stab it and use the remaining edge to slice a feeder's head off, the screamer living up to their nickname for it as it spun through the air, flailing and bleeding.

Kill.

Their claws dove for his face, their teeth aimed for his throat. They were jealous of his eyes in particular. One by one, sometimes two at once, in a lucky hit three, they fell at his feet until he had to step over them. The kills weren't always clean, and many of his victims lay on the floor, quivering, racked with spasms and agonized howls as they were fed upon, until he cut apart the ones feeding on them.

Kill.

And blood began to drip from the ceiling, sent there from the sheer amount flying from his swords, from the knife, and occasionally from Raphael's sai. He was a wall between the monsters and his brothers, and blood rained down on them like baptism, born again into glorious violence and death. He was the faster monster and he served his brothers, becoming death and destroyer to protect them as they could not.

Even between Felix and Leo's swords, something occasionally made it through, near enough to take off their heads if they didn't duck. A handful of screamers leaped at once, and though he killed four, the fifth slipped around his swords, losing a leg but still on target to sink its teeth into his eyes.

A gunshot, drowned in the screaming, slammed into its mouth and sent it spinning sideways, hitting the wall. Its remaining legs curled up like a dying roach, and Leo turned to look down the hall.

Weighing less than he remembered, with torn clothes and a bloody arm, Chanta held a gun, the black metal still shining. She fired seemingly without aiming, but every bullet exploded a head or blew off a limb. Then there was a scream behind her, and she turned and fired again, now backing down the hall towards them.

Leonardo moved slightly to position himself between her and the last remaining creatures on his side, finishing the final screamer as she caught up. Without acknowledging each other, the three of them merged into a single unit, Leonardo moving at the front to wipe out anything coming at them while Felix killed anything that slipped by her bullets. Raphael kept Mike close by, between the three. In a few minutes, the halls went silent again.

"Next room," she whispered. "I gotta reload."

"Here," Felix answered, unholstering his gun. "Got a present for you. Full clip, and I got more."

"Oh," she smiled and took it, holding it in her other hand. "Manna from heaven."

A high pitched whine interrupted them, and they leaped forward, hitting the ground and remaining motionless. At the same time, Leo turned and threw his brothers to the floor, falling next to them as a bolt of light shot through the dark. He winced, but the burn was superficial.

"Damn," he whispered, looking back up. The red light near the ceiling was already fading, but it was like a beacon to him and he sent a throwing star through it, breaking glass and tearing wires. "I can see a door there, but there's probably more of 'em."

"What was that?" Raph asked, looking up.

"Lasers," Chanta answered. "If I can see them, I can take them out."

"Just a sec." Leo picked up one of his flash bombs and pulled out the detonator so it wouldn't ignite, then sent the shell rolling down the hall. There was the whine of motion detectors triggering the aiming sights, and then several bolts of light zapped through the shell, leaving it a lump of scorched plastic.

Three shots went off before the lights grew dim, and she fired on the afterimages, nailing two more. "There."

Just to be safe, Leo slid the detonator down the hall, and when nothing fired, they followed him to the door. He listened at the edge for a moment, then cracked it open. Empty. Once they were all in, he closed it and sat with his back against it. Beside him, Raphael let Mike collapse in a corner and sat next to him, one arm around his shoulder. About as large as a walk-in closet, several shelves were built into the wall, and these were mostly empty save for a few small boxes. Felix pulled them down and opened them on the floor. The first thing he found was a chem light, and he snapped it and shook it. A blue glow filled the small space in the center of the room, more than they were used to.

"Ammo clips," he said, passing that box over to her. "A couple first aid kits and some pills. Any takers?"

"Dibs on the pills," she said.

"I'll take some bandages," Leo said and glanced at his brothers. "You two hurt?"

Raph shook his head. "No...lots of blood, but it ain't ours." He watched his brother catch the bandages tossed to him and unfurl them, but he couldn't manage wrapping it around his upper arm with just one hand. Raphael leaned close and took the roll, gently winding it around the burn. Leo watched for a few seconds, then turned away. He picked out the small rag he used to wipe his swords clean and started one blade with the same faraway look he'd had at the lair, when he first told Raphael about the game.

Scraping claws passed the door, a group of feeders chasing down a screamer. In his corner, Mike looked up. All that stood between them and their claws was an unlocked door and his brother. Despite Leo's earlier behavior, or because of it, his presence made Mike feel safer. He sat with one sword in his lap, the other at his side on the floor, next to be cleaned. The light made his bandana stand out, now just a bit of blue under dark stains, and his eyes were clear, too clear. They burned. Mike looked away towards the others. He'd already seen Felix, so now he looked at Chanta, the girl Leo had said was dead.

Her hair was long, probably black, though it could have been all the blood matting it down. A large tangle bulged behind her neck that would probably never be brushed out. She wore a pair of large glasses, both lenses cracked, and a long burn scar covered half her face, leaving it reminiscent of Freddy Krueger. Accustomed to the darkness, she spotted his look and nodded. "Yeah, I'm looking forward to some major plastic surgery if I get out of here."

"How did you survive?" Felix asked. "You were good as dead when we left you."

"You left me in a room," she said. "I was safe mostly. And there were food packs and ammunition. It took a long time before I could hold a gun again, much less walk."

"Explains why you're so much thinner now," Felix said.

"Yeah, well, you try starving and see how good you look. And you?" She took out the gun he'd given her and examined it, hefting it in her hands. "This didn't come from in here."

"We found the way out," Leo said. "We came back to kill Stockman, but he sent us back here again."

"You had to fight your way back up?"

"Nope, we started on this level," Felix said. "Don't even know which level it is."

"Two above the one you left me on. That's what, seven?"

"Six." Leo put away his swords, now clean, and leaned back. "Four more to go. I'll take first watch."

They both nodded and sat back against the wall, drowsing for a few minutes until they finally fell asleep. He glanced at his brothers, as bloody as he was but suffering through it instead of wearing it. He looked down at himself. He was also covered in blood, but it didn't bother him. The first few days in the game, he remembered that it itched when it dried, but now he never felt that. Then again, it rarely had time to dry.

"You better get some sleep," he whispered. "I'll wake you later."

Mike didn't respond. He leaned on Raphael's shoulder and curled up a bit, closing his eyes and drifting off. Raph looked at Leo for a moment, then looked back at Mike. He put his arm around his youngest brother's shoulders and held him closer. "You think he'll make it?"

"He will. Both of you will." He watched Raphael nod once and fall asleep against Mike. They would make it. He would carry them through this. And when it was done, he would never have to carry anyone ever again. One way or another.

*

A world away, Donatello whooped with joy as he discovered Stockman's means of transmitting information back and forth between dimensions. Looking like a radio transmitter on steroids, the booster increased the signal and directed it to a miniature gate constantly held open. Too small to be noticeable or let anything through, it stood to reason that he might be able to send something physical through, provided that it was small enough to fit through the gate.

He found it in a side room with a sturdy lock, but one swift strike of his staff sent the lock across the floor. He opened the door and looked inside. Two large electrodes like the ones in the main room sent a continuous stream of energy to a single point but the amount of energy used was nowhere near as much as what sent his brothers away. He didn't go any closer but simply shut the door. Now he had the means, but he still needed something useful to send through and a way to pinpoint where it would go, ideally into one of his brother's hands. No, ideally into Raphael's or Mike's hands.

A communicator. He nodded once to himself. He had a spare in his lab. April could bring it over and then help him find a way to aim where it landed, probably by focusing the signal to one dot in particular. With five dots on the screen, there was a sixty percent chance it would go to one of his brothers. And if he could keep it from running out of power, maybe with a carrier wave...then theoretically he could speak with them and guide them through the map.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. He'd already pushed Stockman's body behind the crates. It was of no use and he didn't want those blank eyes staring at him through the night. He picked up his communicator and called Splinter, and wasn't too surprised when he saw April and Casey looking over his master's shoulders.

"What's going on--?"

"Any change at all--?"

"Have you figured out--?"

"Hang on," he said, holding the device at arm's reach until the questions died down. "I think I've got an idea, but April, you need to come on down here. Oh, and bring your toolbox, my spare communicator, and food. It's gonna be a long day."

TBC...