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CHAPTER ONE
I N N O C E N C E  L O S T
MICHAELANGELO’S TALE
 

 

AUGUST 11TH, 2045  LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA

“This is gonna be great!" Mike thought anxiously as he hid himself in the shadows. The air was filled with a sense of danger and adventure as he lifted his eyes skyward. A bright white moon illuminated the night sky, casting eerie shadows on the streets below. Mike reached into the sides of his coat, searching for the feel of hard wood. Yep, they were there—his trusted ’chucks. Crouching in anticipation, he heard the labored, excited breathing of his brother, Raphael. Good old Raph, he thought fondly, always so serious, so intense. Too bad he can’t be more mellow like the rest of us. Mike pondered that for a moment as various pictures flashed through his mind. The sight of Raphael laughing and playing jokes on his brothers, bowing to Splinter, relaxing with the rest of them by the fireplace at April’s farm in the country, listening to Leo willingly, without argument, actually having the patience to sit in front of a computer for hours at a time. The mere irony of these thoughts made Michaelangelo chuckle softly to himself.

"What are you laughing at?" Raphael shot him an annoyed glance. "Don’t you realize how skilled these guys are? Do you want to draw attention to our location before we even spot them?" he scorned.

"Jee, sorry, Raph," Mike said, hurt by the accusation in Raphael’s voice, "I was just thinking about...oh, never mind." his voice trailed off. A dark figure scurried toward them, and Raphael reached for his twin sai, standing ready. As the masked face came into view, a look of relief crossed his face. "Oh Casey," he sighed, "It’s you." He shot Casey an annoyed glance, "Don’t ever do that to me again!"

"Sorry, guys," Casey lifted the mask from his grinning face, "So, what’s up, any action yet?"

"Nope, nothing," Raphael replied, "I didn’t even think you were coming. Where have you been?" he inquired, obviously irritated at Casey’s lateness.

"Sorry, Raph, but I do have responsibilities now, ya know? April had a late night at work, and I had to watch Shadow until she got home." The sound of Shadow’s name caused the agitation to slip from Raphael’s face.

"Fine," he mused, "Just don’t let it happen again."

"Yes, master," Casey joked, bowing to Raphael.

"Shhh!" The two looked at Michaelangelo who was pointing in the direction of the laboratory across the street. Casey and Raph scooted up beside him to get a better view of what was happening. The dark street was quiet and quite deserted on this curiously cold, bitter night in October. The old research facility had been abandoned for years now, the front door boarded up with heavy wood and nails, the windows cracked and broken. Graffiti (the work of nearby gangs) covered the crumbling brick walls. No one had been inside the building since it had been shut down five years ago.

"Someone’s in there, I can see their shadows," Mike whispered, gesturing toward the building.

"That’s impossible, Mikey," Raph exclaimed, puzzled, "I told you, Casey and I checked the place out last night. There’s no way anybody could’ve gotten in there without breaking the door down or smashing the windows."

Mike turned to face his brother, a playful look in his eye. "You got in." He smiled.

"Yeah, well that’s different, ’cuz I’m ninja." Raphael tapped a thumb to his chest in defiance.

"So, how’d you get in?" Mike inquired.

"Through the sewers, of course," came the reply. Mike looked at the two of them, a confused frown perched upon his brow.

"There was a small opening in the floor at the far back of the building," Casey explained, "We discovered it last night." He smiled deviously. "There was just enough room for Raph to get his sai in there and make it a little bigger."

A look of worry crossed Mike’s face. What if these creeps noticed that hole? They could enter the sewers! Their home would be discovered! As if Raphael had read his brother’s mind, he rose, twin sai in hand, and ran to the old building.

Mike and Casey exchanged quick, knowing glances and hurried after the surly turtle. They both knew that once Raphael had an idea in his head, there was no stopping him. Raphael came to a halt a few feet from the building.

"What do you see?" Michaelangelo whispered, coming up to stand behind Raphael. Peering over his shoulder, Mike strained to see beyond the windows, but the dust and cobwebs made it impossible.

"Will you pipe down?" Raph snapped, turning to face his pouting brother, "And stop clinging to my shoulder!" Michaelangelo quickly retracted his hands and stuffed them in his pockets as Raph returned his attention toward the building.

"Jeeze. What’s bugging him?" Mike whispered to a shrugging Casey. He watched as Raph scanned the entire building, looking it over carefully, from a distance. His sight first went to the door—still boarded up, no sign of entry. Next, it was the windows—cracks and large holes, but not big enough for anything human to enter. Mike and Casey followed Raph’s gaze as he slowly allowed his attention to float up to the roof. Suddenly, something startled Michaelangelo. Blinking, he let the weathered letters come into focus again.

"DARPA Research and Testing Facility," he read aloud. "My god!" His heart pounded in his chest as faint memories of Raphael’s kidnap and their fight with the Defence Advanced Research Projects Agency flashed in his mind. "So, it wasn’t a dream after all," he whispered in awe. Leo had been telling them the truth of their trip to Nevada all along.

"C’mon," Raphael said, starting to run, "Let’s do this!"

"Raph! Wait!" Michaelangelo called, "Wait!"

Wait...wait... Michaelangelo awoke with a start. Sitting up, he struggled to regain his bearings.

"Seri!" he shouted, "Seri!"

No, he remembered. She had taken her leave of him many years ago, taken the children.

Don’t think about it, Mike... don’t you dare start thinking about it...

Glancing around the room in a confused state, Michaelangelo spotted familiar objects that slowly brought him back into reality—his bag on the floor, the enormous holo screen that adorned the far wall, the old, worn out desk scattered with papers and the manuscripts of the novels, short stories, and poems he’d written in his prime, the cat dish with Klunk III written on it sitting in the corner, and then his nunchuks hanging from a nail on the wall behind him. It was when he glanced at the portrait of Sara, at her haunting face frozen in time from so long ago, that he fell back within reality’s painful grasp.

"God, not again," he moaned, lowering his head into his hands. He sat there for a moment, silent, unmoving, like an ancient, unmoving statue. Slowly he lifted his head and picked up the red bandanna that was hanging from the post of the rickety headboard. Why did the nightmares keep coming? He raised the mask to his eyes, studying it, as if it was something new to him that he had not seen before. Wear and tear had aged the old material. As he rolled the frayed fabric in his hands, old memories began to fill his mind. He remembered the day that Splinter had awarded him with this long sought after prize, as a symbol of both his skills as a ninja and his loyalty to his master.

"Your humorous outlook on the world around you is an example to us all," he had said, "Your playful spirit reminds us all that there is more to life than the vanquishing of our enemies."

Tears came to Michaelangelo’s eyes as he remembered the pride and honor he’d felt as his master tied the bandanna around his head for the first time so many years ago.

"Wear it proud, my son."

Michaelangelo began to sob in anger and remorse. Splinter, he thought, Why?

Wiping at his tears with the old bandanna, Mike rose and walked to stand in front of the large Tri-D holographic screen.

"On!" he said. Suddenly, the holoscreen became animated with pictures of violence and bloodshed.

"This afternoon in downtown Los Angeles, two thieves, believed to be members of the notorious ‘Backstreet Boyz’ broke into the L.A. Library..." the reporter said, "...shooting three librarians and five patrons in the process, one of which was a small child. When questioned by police as to why they found it necessary to kill so many innocent bystanders, they replied defiantly, ‘Because they were in the way.’ More news as the story devel—"

"Off!" Michaelangelo screamed, and the holoscreen became silent once more. "God," he moaned, "Such death and destruction." He wiped away the remaining tears that had streamed down his cheeks, his sorrow and despair turning into anger and rage. Balling his hands up into fists, he punched the wall as hard as he could, creating hundreds of tiny cracks and a large hole in its wake.

"Ow." He looked down at his throbbing hand, "God…I’m becoming…Raphael." He sighed, sitting back down on the hard bed. Raphael...

Michaelangelo entered the old building with caution, his eyes frantically searching for his brother.

"Raphael?" he whispered tip-toeing through the room, "Raphael, where are you?" The silent chamber was filled with odd looking tubes of all sizes. Cobwebs hung from the dusty computer screens which lined the stained walls. Large machines, the type and origin of which Mike could not identify were scattered throughout, reminding him of the TCRI building and his adventures in other dimensions.

"Hey, Mike, what’s going on?" Casey entered the room, lifting the mask to reveal his eager face. "Ya see anything?"

"No, nothing," Mike replied apprehensively, "No sign of Raph either."

"Great," Casey moaned, "This doesn’t look too good." Suddenly, there was a loud "click" as a bright light filled the room, blinding Michaelangelo as his eyes struggled to focus.

"Oh no...Raphael!" Mike cried as he caught site of his brother for the first time. A guard held him by each arm as a third held a knife to his neck. Intense anger filled Raphael’s eyes as he stood motionless in the men’s grasp.

"One move and I slit your brother’s throat!" the man with the knife cackled. Michaelangelo flashed a look at Casey, silently pleading for his human friend to come up with a plan.

"Don’t listen to him, kick their butts!" Raphael yelled to the others.

"Shut up!" the agent on his left commanded, yanking his arm. Mike could see the anger building in Raphael as he tried to control it. His breathing was getting heavier, deeper, his eye was. glazed over, his mouth turning up in a snarl.

Another of the feds pulled out a cellular phone and began to dial. "Hey, Smith," he said into the receiver, "It’s me, McCormick." Mike’s mind began to race while the man spoke. If he could only figure a way to distract the man with the knife.

"Yeah, we got’em," McCormick snarled. "We’ve been tracking them for weeks, and we finally got em! Two of the mutants and one human. I would like to do DNA testing and tissue samples on him as well."

DNA testing? Tissue samples!? These guys were out of their minds! Mike cringed at the thought of tubes and monitors being hooked up to his lifeless body. We’ve gotta get out of here! he thought.

As the man hung up the phone, the agent on Raph’s right pulled him close.

"You little freaks are going on a trip now," he spat into Raphael’s face, "We’re gonna cut you open and see what makes you tick!"

"Like hell!" Raphael cursed, yanking his arms free of the startled men. Wipping out his sai, he turned and stabbed the man with the knife through the heart. "That’s what you get for being careless, you bastard!" he announced.

A fight broke out. Michaelangelo pulled his nunchuks from their hiding place beneath his coat and took out three of the agents, as Casey pulled down his mask and took out two more with his hockey stick. Raphael was on a rampage. Gripping his sai with fierce energy, he lunged at McCormick’s throat, almost cutting his head entirely from his body.

"Test this!" he spat.

Michaelangelo’s head was pounding as he knocked out five more guards, and still, more attacked. It seemed the more he took out, the more would appear to take their place. Mike knew he had to find an escape route, to go get the others. Panicking, he glanced around the room, frantically looking for a way to escape. The front door—nope, no good. It was guarded heavily by several large men with funny guns. Too bad Donatello isn’t here, he thought, he could teach them what a gun really is! Wait...the opening in the floor! Mike ran towards the back of the building.

"Stop him!" the agent commanded, thrusting a bony finger in his direction, "Don’t let him get away!" Gasping, Michaelangelo hurried to the opening, slipping his feet through the hole.

"After him!" the man called, sending nine more federal agents after Mike.

"Too slow!" Mike called as he dropped into the hole.

"Mike! Wait!" he could hear Raphael’s voice calling over the noise. "Not down there, they’ll follow you!" But it was too late…

"Damn!" Mike cursed, throwing the bandanna on the floor. Covering his head with his hands, he rocked gently back and forth, attempting to force the memories from his mind. "Damn, damn, damn," he murmured. Tears began to well up again as pictures of his long forgotten home in the sewers flashed through his head.

"I’m sorry, Leo…I…I thought I…was helping…"

"Shhh. Mike, don’t move," Leo mumbled, his hand resting on his katana, "This guy is serious."

The sewer was scattered with bleeding, unconscious DARPA agents. Mike, Don and Leo stood motionless, facing the silent Splinter, a shotgun pointed to his head.

"Let him go, or you die," Leo commanded, his voice trembling as he clutched his weapon.

The agent laughed mockingly, "I die? I die? You fool!" The man cocked the gun with a loud "click," "If I die, he dies."

Splinter said nothing as the cold metal was pressed against his head. He looked almost peaceful, if not for the silent pleading in his eyes. Michaelangelo’s heart was racing. I thought I was helping, he screamed silently to himself, My god, what have I done?

Suddenly, Raphael appeared behind the agent, weapons in hand. Before Mike or the others could stop him, Raph shoved both of his sharp sai into the man’s torso.

"Raph! Nooo!" Leonardo rushed toward his brother, but it was too late.

Mike watched in horror as the gun went off.

Splinter fell to the floor.

"R…Raphael…" He stared in frozen terror at his distraught brother. His hands, arms and face were sprayed with blood, his eyes wild and untamed. Slowly, he let his eyes fall to the rat laying at his feet. "Splinter…" A wave of nausea swept over him as he gawked in shock and awe at the pool of blood seeping out from Splinter’s broken body. God, I’m gonna throw up, he thought.

Stooping down on shaky knees, Mike carefully laid a hand on his master’s cheek, "M…master Splinter…" The tears came in full force now. Sobbing, he pleaded with his dying sensei, "Please, master, please!"

Splinter’s eyelids flickered as he struggled to open them. Don, Leo and Raph joined Mike on the floor, and crowded around the old rat.

"Master!" Raphael cried out, "I-I…I’m sorry! Oh, god… not this…"

Leonardo shot him a glare of cold hate and blame. Raphael, for the first time, unable to hold his gaze, lowered his eyes to look upon his master.

"Is there anything we can do for you, master?" Leo fought back the tears as he stared into his sensei’s eyes.

"My…sons…" Splinter struggled with the words, "listen…to…me. All of you…" The rat’s eyes closed as he winced in pain. "I am…old, yes. But I have lived…a good life…"

"C’mon, don’t talk like that, master, you’re gonna be fine," Donatello whispered, placing his hand on Splinter’s forehead, but the look in his eyes, and the grief that covered his face, told the others that he knew otherwise.

"No…Donatello, I am afraid not. It is…my time…to go." Mike’s heart began to break as the overwhelming sorrow overtook his body. He was feeling emotions that he had never felt before. Anger welled up inside of him, and for the first time, he knew how Raphael felt when he got that savage look in his eye.

Splinter’s hand quaked as he reached for Leonardo. Grasping it tightly, Leonardo mourned softly as his master spoke again.

"You…will be…okay, my sons," his words were raspy, faint, as he struggled to get air into his lungs, "Never forget…that which binds you…"

Convulsing in pain, the rat fought to voice his final words, "And…do not forget…me."

"No!" Michaelangelo wept, "You can’t die on us! Not now!"

"Michaelangelo…" Splinter mustered up all of his energy to force a smile, "You will…be…okay."

Suddenly, Donatello had an idea. Checking Splinter’s pulse, he declared, "Maybe I can put this cyborg suit to good use, even without the symbiote." His brothers turned to examine his metal frame.

"It saved my life," he went on. "Maybe I can use it to save Master Splinter…"

"No…my son…" Splinter whispered, "My time…"

The four brothers wept, watching in horror as their master slowly began to slip away. Michaelangelo knew there was nothing that could be done for him now, yet it was so hard to let go.

"I am…proud of you all…my sons." Splinter coughed, as blood spurted from his mouth.

"M…master Splinter…father," Mike whispered, swallowing back the puke that was forcing its way into his throat.

"Never…forget…" Splinter’s body suddenly went limp.

"No… no!" Michaelangelo gasped, kicking as Leo pulled him away. Donatello placed his hand on Splinter’s neck, feeling for a pulse. After a moment’s deathly silence, he slowly drew away and faced the others, tears streaming down his cheeks and onto the cyborg armor.

"He’s dead," he forced himself to announce.

No.

This couldn’t be happening.

Unable to contain his emotions any longer, Mike stooped over and threw up his lunch. He felt as if his heart were being ripped in two.

"Wake up!" Raphael grabbed the shoulders of Splinter’s cloak and began to shake him violently, his anger ready to explode in a fit of rage, "You can’t die, damn you!" he screamed, "You can’t die!"

An unseen force suddenly jarred Mike back into reality, but the memories of Splinter’s death remained fresh in his mind. The vision of Splinter’s mangled head, and the pool of blood flashed before his eyes, stirring up the unvented fury that he had held in for so many years.

"Master Splinter!!!" he cried out, raising his fists into the air, "Nooo!"

Splinter’s last words forced themselves into his mind, "Never forget that which binds you…Never forget…"

Mike picked up the bandanna, clutching it again in his hands. "I failed you master," he sobbed, "We all did." Wiping the tears from his tormented face, he tied the fabric in place.

He thought back to that cold December morning when he had gone to the watch tower to tell Leo of his decision…

"Leo, I’ve been giving this a lot of thought," he said wearily, his eyes glazing over with fresh tears, "The nightmares keep coming, Leo. I can’t…I can’t make them stop…"

Leonardo didn’t turn to look at his brother, but instead, continued to stare straight ahead.

"Go ahead and go. Why not?" he said coldly, "The others did." A wave of guilt and grief swept over Michaelangelo as he pleaded for understanding.

"Leo, I tried, but…I just can’t." At this, Leo turned to look Mike in the eyes.

"It’s not like it used to be…it will never be the same again." Mike stared at the cold hard ground below their feet.

"Raphael had to leave," Leo answered, "Don went to bury Splinter. But you…" he looked up at Michaelangelo, a look of accusation in his eyes, "you have a choice."

After a couple of hours of trying to convince Leonardo, Mike had given up, deeming it hopeless. He had packed few of his belongings in his bag, grabbed Klunk, and said his farewells to Leonardo.

"Good bye, brother." He fought back the tears as he embraced Leo in a hug.

"Good bye, Michaelangelo." For the first time since Splinter’s death, emotion swept over Leonardo’s face. "You take care of yourself, little bro," he said softly, "and please remember…don’t forget…"

April and Casey had brought Shadow to see him off. Michaelangelo picked up Shadow and held her in his arms, giving her a big hug.

"Uncle Mikey!" she cried, "Please don’t leave!"

Sorrow filled his heart, as he explained, "I have to, sweetie."

That day had been the turning point in Michaelangelo’s life. As he entered the busy subway car, he knew that he could never look back to the life he once had. Splinter was dead, his brothers were gone, and life was no longer a joke. He hadn’t laughed since.

"God damn it..." Mike gathered his thoughts and made his decision. It wasn’t hard. "I have to end this." He walked to the door, stopping for a moment. "Here, Klunk!" he called. A few seconds later, the finicky feline strolled into the room.

"Mrrow?" The cat stared at him with questioning eyes.

"C’mon, boy," said Mike. "We’re going to New York…to find Leo."

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