Somewhat inspired by Metallica.
Fade to Black.
Since we were young, Master Splinter had always taught us that the greatest power one could have was the mastery of their mind and of the body. If one knows ones own mind, there is nothing ones body cannot do. The second lesson he had always gently drilled us with was that only together, when our strengths and weaknesses were balanced and matched, could we overcome our enemies, whether they be of real flesh and blood, or a horror from the depths of our psyche.
And for the longest time, we had been able to intertwine our minds and souls, overcoming great obstacles with our togetherness and our bond as brothers- though we may well be of different lineages. I have yet to perform the DNA tests to prove thus.
Ah, my brothers. The three complements to my soul, my checks and balances, my confidantes when the stress and pain grew overwhelming for even my cool, collected self. Leonardo: the rock we all lean upon; yes, even the fiery one leans on him when times get tough. I see the strain it puts on him, his assumed leadership and his inability to accept that he cannot right every wrong, and cannot protect us from every evil. My accident proved that, and it took all of us to pull him out of his depressive cycle.
Raphael: ever temperamental, ever volcanic, the slowly boiling pot threatening to boil over at the slightest rise in temperature. I wish there was something I could do for him, besides counsel and comfort when he came to me in the night. He is a fierce one, and proud of our heritage, as odd as it may seem. I admire that.
And Michaelangelo: The goofy one in our troupe. I've come to realize that, of us all, he takes on more responsibility than we give him credit for. When things are down, he always cheers us up, when the going gets tough, he pushes harder. And when brothers fight, he intervenes.
There's always myself, the brainiac, the one to go to when electronics fail, when times are rough, the surrogate doctor for minor to life-threatening injury. When it comes down to it, I can be the one who decides if my brothers live or die. That's a lot of pressure to put on someone- sometimes it gets too great. That is where my seclusion comes into play.
It's been twenty years now that we've lived in the shelter of our Lair, avoiding mishaps that would lead to our demise as best possible. Still, accidents are always bound to happen. Since the first break in from the Foot clan five years ago, I'd been tasked with security measures and countermeasures. They held up darn well if I say so myself, but accidents always happen.
Raphael was the first one.
I had always though that the proud, defiant turtle would be the last of us, but it was not so. Betrayal from a once close friend led the re-banded Foot clan, with a new head at the wheels, to his favorite hangout/escape.
The pond at the Park.
We only found out where he'd disappeared to when Mikey found the tape. Naturally we watched, and before it was over, the new TV I'd built was sliced almost in two by Leo's katana. I watched as Michaelangelo vomited, cried, and beat on the TV screen. Soon I noticed that I had indeed tossed my lunch all down my front, and tears were streaking uncontrollably.
Raph had been captured and tortured. The last Image that I saw of him was one proud, defiant brown eye softened with a gentle expression of love and sorrow.
'I'm sorry' He had mouthed through a mouthful of broken teeth and a mangled jaw.
One mistake led to another, and during one of our battles with the Foot, now known as the Purple Dragon Dojang, we were caught completely off guard as Raphaels mutilated body was thrown at Michaelangelo. All I remember after that was screams, death, and blood.
Lots of blood.
Michaelangelo died almost instantly from two gut-check wounds, and a severed vena cava. The spark of fight had left us, and we withdrew, sorely wounded, and terribly scarred.
It didn't help that Master Splinter had passed a few months back, leaving us no-one to call upon for guidance and help. April had been found dead impaled upon a stake. Correction, her body, broken and bloodied, was found. I have not been able to discover its location, and the creep who took it.
Leonardo, damn him, broke and took the easy way out. He committed seppuku; the honorable death- yet still I feel that it condemned him to eternal flames.
I am alone now, still in the Lair, my computer my only release from this disease. I feel drained, like the battery is slowly dying, the life fading away. The electricity had long since been cut off from us, and so I sit, staring at the black screen, a candle the only light I have.
Slowly I turn to the wall.
Blank glazed eyes stare mindlessly at me, the facial features contorted in an expression of fear and remorse. When I used my immense brainpower to discover our betrayer, it wasn't long before vengeance was mine. I lost my entire family and my only human friend because of this … this … animal posing as a hero.
With one last glance at the crucified, disemboweled shell of a human, I smile, content in my darkness, finally allowing myself the ultimate release. Two swift snicks, and I relax back in my chair, snuffing the candle allowing peace and black comfort to envelope me in a warm downy blanket, and I slowly fade away from this time and place.
'There is no comfort without pain…'
Blood mingles with blood as the darkness becomes complete.
A/N: I'm not so sure this was ok- I was in a really REALLY dark mood this morning and had to take it out somewhere! Please review, no flames, and this is supposed to be Don-centric. This isn't quite how it was supposed to turn out, but shrugs Oh well, I've run out of time to edit for now. I'll probably re-write later date.
Oh yeah, on another note- I'm have a doozy of a workload, so updates (I'm working on them, don't worry!) may be spaced pretty far out. That and I suffered a MAJOR case of writers block for a week. Yeesh.
Enjoy and R&R please!