Disclaimer: The Ninja Turtles do not belong to me. Please don't sue me, because I'm definitely not making money off of this.

A/N: This is my first Turtles fic...but I'm really surprised I haven't ever written one before. They were my first obsession, oh so long ago. Hope you like it. Oh, and be forewarned.....this is gonna get pretty weird. Don't take anything at face value!


"Don! The TV's broken again!"

"I'm busy Raph!"

"Busy doing what?"

"Fixing the motorcycle...which, I believe you demanded I fix yesterday."

"Well, you should've fixed it yesterday...fix the TV now!"

Donatello sighed and put down his screwdriver. "I don't have the parts I need for that, Raph. I'll fix it later."

"Fix it now, Don! The Jets play in an hour!"

"They're not even any good this year." Don liked and paid attention to football, but Raphael would never admit that Don might just know more than him.

"They are so!"

"Whatever," said Don, not willing to argue with his brother any longer. He was tired of the motorcycle anyway. It was a real grease bucket. "I'll have to go get a few parts for it. I may not even be back before the game starts."

"You better get back!" Raph said, pounding his fist on the TV.

Don sighed again and grabbed his duffel bag. On his way out of the lair he was stopped by Michelangelo. "Hey Don, can ya pick me up some pizza, and maybe some batteries for my Gameboy?" Don shrugged, "Sure, whatever." His voice was flat.

"Oh," Mike said just as Don turned his back, "Leo told me to tell you that he wants you to fix his reading light sometime today." Donatello kept his back turned and nodded. As he walked out of the lair, Don was happy his brothers could not see the angry look on his face.

"Jeez...what's up his butt?" came Raphael's sardonic reply after Don had left. Michelangelo could only shrug, but before he and Raph could get back to relaxing, Splinter's voice came to them from the other room.

"It's very simple, Raphael," Splinter said, "He's tired of fixing everything that you break, and he's tired of running errands for everyone." Raphael frowned and sat down on the couch to watch TV snow. Mike looked thoughtful for a moment, shrugged, and plopped down in a chair to watch the TV snow with Rapael.

"Hey, I think I can see a Jet!" Mike said, ducking under a projectile pillow courtesy of Raph.


Donatello peered out of the manhole for several minutes to make certain that no one was in the alley. Then he silently climbed out, careful not to catch his duffel bag on anything. He would need to go to the junkyard and look for parts, which was something he usually enjoyed, but was dreading tonight.

I really don't want to do this, Don thought sullenly. It's super cold out; I could be home reading a book or working on something worthwhile.

Don sighed. Thinking negative thoughts wasn't going to get him anywhere. He needed to just get this over with.

Or stand up for myself more often. The thought entered Don's brain like an arrow, and the shaft buried itself in deep. I'm such a social wuss....I let them all push me around just because I don't like confrontation. Don crossed his arms. That does it, he thought firmly. I'm going back down there and giving them a piece of my mind.

Don turned around to climb back down the manhole, but was shocked to see a dark figure blocking his path. At first he was so stunned that someone could sneak up on him so well that he didn't move. Then, the figure took a quick step forward and Don pulled out his bo.

"Hold it, pal," Don said calmly, "I don't want any trouble here. I'm just trying to get home."

The figure took another step forward, and Don glanced around quickly for an escape route. He didn't feel threatened by the figure, he just, as usual, preferred not to have a confrontation if he could help it, even in light of his newfound resolve against his brothers. Don saw that the back of the alley was guarded by a short fence, which he could easily vault himself over. Don took one more look at the figure, which had halted its progress, and took off for the back of the alley.

Before Don could take two steps, the dark figure was in front of him again. This time, it was bathed in the light of a dim streetlamp, and Don recoiled in horror. Underneath a tattered black hood glowed two somewhat sickly green eyes, the fire behind flickering with an unnatural life. Don could see, glittering in the light of the street lamp, black scales so dark they were cast with a purple hue. Don could also see a pointed snout, with a black forked tongue flickering in and out.

"Woah...I...weird. I'm outta here." Don turned to run the other way, but again, two steps into his movement, he was blocked by the figure in black. Don stumbled backward in astonishment and landed on his rear with a thump. He stood up immediately and tried once again to run. He was again blocked, but this time Don crashed into figure, intending to knock it down long enough to make a getaway. It was like running into a brick wall. Donatello was knocked to the ground once again, but this time he didn't have the chance to stand up; the dark figure had him pinned to the ground, though exactly how he was pinned, Donatello was not certain. He did not have much time to consider the logistics of his predicament, as two cold, scaly black hands closed over his throat. Don tried valiantly to struggle free, but he could not move, could not breathe. Slowly, the life began to seep from him; his vision became a black tunnel, closing around him. Excruciating pain turned into unbearable agony, which went on for several moments until finally, mercifully, Donatello felt himself slip into comfortable nothingness.

A/N: There we go...chapter one! Stick with me, folks, I've got a long way to go here. Review if you like, cause -I'd- really like it!