DISCLAIMER - A one-shot. That's all I'm gonna say - other than, I don't own the TMNT's or any place or thing associated with them.

The Vanquisher!

With fifty already dead or dying, Leonardo knew he would win. With steely resolve, he ignored their carcasses littering the ground around him. Some still writhed in agony, yet he paid them no mind, for Leo knew no compassion; not with an enemy so ruthless, so determined, and that challenged him in so great a number. It was his destiny to defeat them; right down to the very last one, showing them no mercy whatsoever.

Sadly, his brothers had deserted him, just before the slaughter.

Cowards! he declared.

Surprisingly, even his own father had left him to his fate, tohide away, as his siblings had done.

Yet, Leonardo would not label him as he had his brothers, and even then, he didn't really blame them. He was the only one who could win, the only one of the five in his family so trained to defeat their foe. Yes, he was the Vanquisher and he would make certain that his brothers and his father could rest easy once more.

Now, with only one left to worry about, Leonardo stood poised. He had trained for this moment, every fiber of his being ready to prove his worth as a ninja master. His weapon firm within his grip, he watched his soon-to-be doomed prey as it languished nearby, obviously waiting for the right opening.

The enemy did not heed its fallen comrades fate, nay, it seemed to mock their very death. As it waited, its annoying taunts filled the room with an irritating cry, hoping to drive its opposition to the brink of insanity! It had done as much to his enemy's brethren, who fled with tails between their legs moments earlier.

As it prepared to strike, as it swung around the room to find an opening, Leonardo snapped his weapon at the ready. Emboldened by his enemy's war cry, he crouched and waited, watching his foe's trajectory. It behaved as if unaware of the threat before it, but Leo knew better. It was just waiting for the perfect opportunity. Then, just as Leo had known, at the last minute, when he feigned an opening, it suddenly rushed at him, determined and resolute.

Coming in low, it angled to Leo's right, then to the left, then right again, only to unexpectedly swing up and then down. It did a spiral and a flip in quick succession, all the while advancing on the turtle in blue.

Leonardo nearly laughed at its aggressive antics, but he held himself in check. It was toying with him, this he was aware of, the creature believing it capable of defeating him. No, Leo would not boast, not yet, not until the last of his enemy succumbed from the weight of his judgment. He would win; he had to, after all, his honor was at stake.

In the next room, huddling in fear, were those he had sworn to protect. He . had . to . win…it didn't matter what it cost him; Leonardo knew that failure was not an option. He instantly forgave his brothers for their cowardice,his father for leaving him to fight alone. If he should fail, Leo didn't want unresolved disappointment to mar his memory.

As his mind returned to the battle at hand, in the last moment when his foe dove in to strike, Leonardo whipped around. He cut through the air with his weapon, a paradigm of fluidic grace. Just as his enemy believed itself the victor, in the last second and with skill any warrior would envy, Leonardo struck.

Like Joe DiMaggio, he smashed it with the flat of his weapon, his whoop of victory nearly raising the rafters. His enemy shot over the sofa and smacked into the living room window of Casey's farmhouse. Bouncing to the floor, it writhed haphazardly along the wooden surface, stopped, contorted again, and then lay there, still. Ithad joined its comrades in death.

Fifty-one of their dreaded enemy; all defeated by one single warrior, the great, the mighty...Hamato Leonardo. He stood there proud; legs spread apart in a superhero stance, one hand on hip, his weapon at attention in the other.

Knowing they were safe once again, three just like him emerged cautiously from the kitchen. Through the door and into the living room they filed, one by one, each admiring the handiwork of their hero.

"Did ya get'em all, Leo?" Raph asked, looking around worriedly.

"Dude, that was awesome work!" Mike gushed as he observed the carnage lying under the front window.

Donnie only said, "Every year we get these things. Must be a way for'em to get in. Still, you know if it wasn't for Raph's fear of bugs, Leo, you could have just opened the front door. I'm sure they would have left quite willingly. Flies prefer being outdoors."

Raph only shook his head, a look of horror on his face, "Nuh uh, Don, they'd only find another way inside again. They had to die!" He went over to Leo and, with a relieved smile, exclaimed, "Thanks bro, I owe you one!"

Leonardo laid a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder, "No problem, Raph." He then walked over to the side of the fireplace and hooked the flyswatter back on the wall again.

From the kitchen, another voice sounded, "My son, is it safe to come out, now?"

"Yes, Master Splinter, it is safe; they're all dead," Leo confirmed softly.

"Good," the old rat exclaimed, easing through the doorway, as his cane tapped out each step he took, "It really bugs me when flies get tangled in my fur."

Every summer we get a gazillion flies in our house - all at the same time - sometimes as may as 50 or more! Tiny little buggers, but all eager to be big flies one day. Silly flies! We haven't a clue how they get in, but - I do have to say that since our dogs died a couple of years back, we don't get as many of them. Still, it's rather annoying to have all these flies flitting about, buzzbombing your head. Even my cat runs for cover; it's hilarious. So, I end up as the Vanquisher, taking up as many as two flyswatters to do battle ala Leonardo. I'm not nearly as graceful of course, but my war cry is just as loud, believe me! Especially when I've killed the very last fly! LOL