"Hello, this is April O'Neil reporting live from--"
Oh damn, sorry about that. It's an occupational hazard you know. I definitely need some serious vacation time.
But there's no rest for the wicked they say, and I think that also applies to reporters. I suppose it's my own fault that I've been a little stressed out lately. Everyone always says that I drive myself much too hard. Mikey would prob'ly say something like: "You've really gotta chill out. Eat more pizza April." Splinter would probably suggest mediation. And Donnie would say that I'm obsessing over work again.
Not that he has much room to talk about obsessive behavior lately. He's been a little out of himself. Ever since he started playing that game-- uh... what's it called?
Oh well, I'll think of it. You see, that's a prime example of what I'm talking about. My brain just hasn't been cooperating for the last, oh... three days or so. Actually, now that I think about it, it might have started after
I sat and watched Donnie play that damn game. What is it called-- uh!
I don't know how he talked me into it, but I spent an hour or so with Donnie in front of the computer, watching him play. He really seemed to get into his gaming character. It was almost frightening watching him act like that. If I hadn't known better, I'd of thought that he was turning into this, this-- terrific! Now I can't even think of the damn character's name. Help! Another example of what I jokingly refer to as: "my impending mental collapse."
It was just one of those days where everything had gone completely wrong. I was stuck for half the day covering a- covering... God I even hate to say it.
Okay... a dog show.
I mean really! The best damn crime reporter in the city and I'm stuck for half the day watching some crotchety old matrons and spinsters show off their Princess or Fifi.
Why the hell are all poodles named Princess of Fifi?
And then after all that, I get stuck doing paperwork until late tonight. Okay, the paperwork thing was definitely my fault. I'd been putting it off and it piled up. But still! I deserve a little break! In all the "excitement" of the day, I'd completely forgot that I was, uh- or, am supposed to be having dinner with Casey. I was really looking forward to it. Not that I'd ever let him know how much.
He'd even said something about, uh, straightening up his apartment. I wouldn't want to open his closet doors. I'll bet he put his laundry in one of them.
Well, things were finally going right. We were on our way to this little cafe, when I remembered that I forgot my cellular. I never go anywhere without my cellular!
So we swing by my place to pick it up, and we just had to arrive right when the damn phone started to ring.
I could have just ignored it, I s'pose. But my reporter's instincts took over and before I knew what was happening, I'd answered the call, apologized to Casey, changed clothes and headed out to, to... oh my God.
I was only there just a few minutes ago and I can't even think of where I was!
My God! What's happening to me anyway? Maybe I should see a doctor in the morning, or have Splinter teach me some of that meditation. Well, whatever happened, I've got it all on my trusty video camera. I'll check the tape once I get back to--
SMACK!
Oh Jesus Christ! I just walked straight into a wall!
The wall of my own apartment building?!
Now not only am I losing my mind, but I also need glasses. Terrific. I backed away from the wall and looked around carefully. Praying that no one had seen what just happened. I could see the story now: "Ace reporter April O'Neil from Channel 3 committed to Bellview earlier this morning. Film at eleven."
I carefully climbed the stairs and went into my apartment. "Okay Casey! I'm back! Now we can, we can-- Casey?!"
Now where the hell did he go? God! You can't leave him alone for a minute! Not one minute! All I ask him to do is wait for me. I don't think that's too much to ask. But no! He has to, to--
I noticed the light blinking on my answering machine. Hmm... maybe he left a message, I thought.
When I checked the tape it was blank. Well, not exactly blank, but it sounded as if a person were speaking from inside a barrel or something. Was that Leo's voice? I couldn't tell. I gave the machine a good slap. But nothing happened. Uh, I'll get Casey to fix it, again! If I ever find out where the dirtball went.
Well, it's official. My day has completely gone to hell in a--hand basket?
Now what the hell is this? I noticed the small wicker basket sitting in the middle of my kitchen table. As I started towards it, I heard a tiny meow coming from inside.
"Oh! Where did you come from little guy?!"
A tiny kitten was nestled in a bed of cotton. It was completely gray from nose to tail, and it didn't look much older than a newborn.
"Now how did you get in here?" I asked the cat. Yeah, like it was really going to answer me. Although the way my life had been going lately....
The only thing it actually said was: meow.
"Well, I guess you'll have to stay, for the night at least. You're kind'a cute. What should I call you?"
As I reached in a finger to stroke the tiny head, it latched on with teeth and claws. "Okay, come on! Give me my hand back! Please!"
It ignored my pain-filled pleading and hung on, tighter than ever. "All right! That's enough Raph!... Raph?!
"Well, it defiantly fits your personality to a-- ouch! Come on kitty! Let go! Let go! Thank you!"
I retrieved my hand and noticed a long scratch which was beginning to bleed rather insistently. I dug a first aid kit out from my purse and patched up my tortured hand. The kitten had settled down again, purring loudly and looking completely innocent.
That was when I saw something else sticking out from under the kitten's bedding. Reaching in a cautious hand, I half-expected another brutal assault, my fingers enclosed upon something which felt like an envelope.
Now, I thought, maybe I'll find out where this little bundle of teeth and claws came from.
I opened the envelope, there was no note inside. Just a computer disk. The label on the disk simply read: Arena.
Arena? That's it! That's the name of Donnie's computer game! But why was it tucked in with this little terror?
I lifted the kitten cautiously, my hands examined him more closely. There was a tiny bow around his neck, with what looked like a tag. I lifted the tag, but all I could make out was TI.
TI? What the hell is that supposed to mean? It looked like there should be more letters in between, but those were the only ones I could make out.
Well, this is turning into a real mystery, I thought. I gently lowered Raph Jr. back into his home. And I began to make some milk and oatmeal for my little guest. Putting it into a bottle I began to feed the poor little thing. It ate hungrily, as if it hadn't had a meal in ages. And while it did, I began to think.
Maybe it's a present from Donnie, I thought. But why would he give me a kitten? And that tag? I sighed and settled into a chair with my new little friend. I have the nagging feeling I'm forgetting something again.
Something... someone....
I'm definitely getting sleepy. But I was just wide awake-- just wide awake-- just a-- oh....
I step into the night, a full, quick glimpse in shades of raven-grays and
blacks. The cool and foggy nigh-midnight hour washed around me in a purple
embrace. I come from the night, an untouchable.
I am Challice Black, or just Challi. Though I am only eighteen, my wisdom goes beyond the years. I am not an American, I am an 'illegal' alien. I came to America in tense secrecy to find my uncle.
On the island of Honshu, I grew up to the young age of thirteen. My father, a strange man to the land of Nippon, taught me the secrets. He told me of how we were the last two descendants of a prince, Kenshin. He showed me the ancient scrolls telling me of warrior kappa who came to the land and helped Kenshin and his love, Mitsu.
My father then told me of how the Turtles (as they are presently called) lived in this very time. He planned many years to go to America.
Oh, those days were soon brought to a cataclysmic end. One night, members of my father's former clan attacked. They wanted the secrets that my father had stolen from the clanmaster, the secrets of his mysterious clan, the clan I had just recently been betrothed into.
As they tried to break the door in, as they tried to burn the house down, even as they began to break though, my father remained calm, meditating on his pillow.
Just moments before they broke though, he looked up at me and handed me a small sack. Then, he stood up and motioned me towards his pillow. He removed it, and quickly moved his agile fingers over the floor. He pulled open the secret exit and pushed me through without another word.
Despite my sense of 'honor', I ran. The exit came out to nearly a mile away, at the bottom of a remote chain of hills. I sat down in despair, forgetting my danger, and opened the sack. In it was a plane ticket to New York, money, and the relics they had coveted-- the scroll, the books, my father's uniform, and the sands. Knowing I was in grave danger, I boarded the next plane to America. I changed my name from Miyatio Kenji to Challice Black. I joined Rising Phoenix, a metal band, and became famous.
My uncle, I found, had been dead for over five years. On my own, in the beginning, I stole and murdered for my place in humanity.
In my deepest heart of hearts, I realized long ago how foolish I had been to make a name for myself in America. They could be watching, and they could know. Though I have disguised myself well, the clan my father had so long ago escaped was everywhere.
I quickly reacted with lighting accuracy when a flash of green ran by me. My eyes caught a glimpse of it. I had seen enough, and I quickly realized destiny had called. After all these years, I had finally found one of the Turtles.
I must see more, and I shall do so. I am after all, son of a fugitive member of the Foot Clan. Finding it shall be easy.
I can feel the sweat on my body, burning my eyes and yet soothing my tiring muscles. I ignore it. My arms are going past tired to sore, with every swing. My leg muscles burn with anxiety with each kick. I ignore it. I can feel myself getting dizzy as I try to keep the effort in the force of my kicks and punches. I ignore it.
I see only the faces of the friends I had, who will never be the same because of the Turtles. I begin to tap into some energy that suddenly came out of nowhere and I continue to strike the bag even harder. I must stay aware of my surroundings. I can hear the others of the "Foot" practicing together in the larger hall to my left. Yet I practice alone because there is no challenge with them anymore. I can hear their yells echo through the brick hallways. Suddenly the pain in my arms starts to punch its way into my consciousness.
I forcefully block it out. I notice the identical red marks in the bag I've been hitting. The indentations are from my hits, the red is my own blood. I can feel the sweat from my arms start to enter the wounds on my knuckles. It burns for a bit and then goes numb. All the better, I can continue. As I focus on the blood on the bag I can see my friend Jim's face half shattered by the sais from the one called Raphael. He was struck so hard, that the skin broke in many places, leaving scars. His nerves were so messed up that he may never have complete control over the right side of his face. He also has no sight out of that eye either.
"Damn them! They will pay. Especially Raphael!"
I have not been paying attention to what I am doing. I feel something small and like dust hit my arms, chest and face. I unknowingly make a spear hand and break the bag. Coming through the other doorway at my back I hear heavy foot steps. Normally, anyone else would not think anything of this, but I've gone through some extra training. By sheer instinct my mind tells me "Duck Now!" Stooping low I do a low spin kick. Master Tatsu barely jumps over it.
"Master Tatsu! I'm sorry! I didn't realize...."
"Oy." He walks over to inspect the bag, saying, "Mmmh. Very good. I am pleased. You will make fine elite."
I only bow low in appreciation, constantly keeping my eyes on him.
"You still have more to learn." And with that he leaves.
Yes! I want to become part of Master Tatsu's elite. Only a few Foot even know about it. But my reasons are different from the others. I want revenge!
The hot shower and meditation is very relaxing. It soothes my muscles and joints. I'd better go pick up my girlfriend Audrean from work, then we can have a relaxing evening at her house. Her long wavy, black hair and blue eyes always makes me forget my worries. Her face is thin and delicate, like that of an angel. But she doesn't know she's dating a demon. A demon with a vengeance.
I kneeled down on my simple tatami mat contemplating the location of my master. Many days have passed, and the clan has trained hard. No longer do my warriors move like American street whelps. They are now true ninja, especially Gakusei Freddy. With our improvements, revenge on the Turtles will be ours. The Turtles have not been seen for many days, yet I have a feeling that they are here. My senses feel that the
Turtles may be near--
KNOCK! KNOCK!
"Sumimasen Master Tatsu."
"Hai... um, Yes Foot Smith- What is it?"
"Our contact at a pizza shop has come up with results-"
A Turtle at the pizza shop, finally a lead. "Take two groups of my best men, and search the pizza shop and the sewers. Have them meet me outside."
"Yes Master Tatsu."
Finally! Now is the time to claim vengeance upon those who have caused my Master Oroku Saki harm.
I pull out my best katana and wakizashi in preparation for battle and leave for the hall.
The men had assembled in the hall, well equipped for attack.
"You, take your men to Little Caesar's, and you... take your men to the sewers- and check the old lair. I will follow up and meet your group later."
Now I can gain vengeance and blood will flow from these fiends as payment for Master Saki's dishonor.
"Master Tatsu, the contact from TGRI is on the phone, he has some interesting
news for you."
"Hmm... I see. I will talk to him." I pick up the call in the office. Alone.
"Hai, this is Kijato... Yes Vance, hmm.... some creature, mutant... green? Nani?-- Turtle-like-- keep it detained... it has swords?...Excellent. Yes, I will be right over....You will be rewarded greatly for this."
I hang up the phone, my feelings were right. "Tottomo II nee! I have the head Turtle, what a perfect start to revenge and the downfall of the Turtles!"
"This is excellent!"
New York's the reason why I have ulcers. Not that I pay over three hundred a month in alimony, or that my prostrate is beginning to enlarge, but that these punks who run amuck at night pay no respect to the law. I'm the only one fit to handle these creeps. That's why I became NYPD's Chief a little over eight years ago.
And in New York, you get a lot of crazy shit like this. "I don't want those damned reporters to catch wind of anything tonight," I informed Robertson, the Burglary's Lieutenant. "Get it tagged and bagged right now." These punks, probably some gang by the looks of it, are hitting the streets tonight, and it doesn't look like they're finished.
At a quarter past midnight, a Beat arrived on the scene of gunshots. Glass was everywhere in one part of the
street. The cop found a shuriken there as well. Not much, but it was a start.
Then, somebody heard some kind of a brawl a few blocks away. Again, nothing much. No traces of much. There was a casing found, but ballistics hasn't done anything with it yet.
Somebody at a few minutes past midnight broke into Nagara's Japanese shop. Stole some weapons, a few old relics and a couple of pieces of clothing. This might explain the shuriken, but I know that it's something more.
"Sir?" Robertson said, standing. "I think you'd better hear this."
He handed me the CB he'd been wearing. I left mine in the squad, because I don't want to lug my equipment around if I don't have to.
" . . . over here. it's not blood as I had reported--" So Garrison was jumping the gun about the mess. It figures that he's still a Patrol. "-- spaghetti sauce. There's also some bread and pizza, enough for eight people, I think from Little Caesar's. There's a name here on the box, too. Turtel, T-U-R-T-E-L."
I pressed the two-way button. "Then start looking for this Turtel person. And question every prick over at Little Caesar's. I want to know what in the hell is going on."
I handed the CB back in disgust. I'd had it with these gangs of punks and their muggings and burglaries. Perhaps Turtel wasn't involved, but I wanted to know who was.
And I wanted to know now!
The light of the full moon shines down on the remnants of what was the pier at the dockside dance club. The sounds of water splashing against wood fills the air. A seagull looking for its daily share of food lands on top of the pile--
--only to take off mere moments later by the sudden movement from within the pile. The sounds of wood splashing into water now fills the air, as the wood that at one point stood on that pile is replaced by what appears to be a huge hand in armor!
That hand is now two, and soon what appears to be the rest of the body rises up from the rubble. This all too familiar armor-clad body, although considerably larger in size, belongs to the one being that strikes fear in the heart of men.
Leaping out of the water onto the closest piece of dry land, the mysterious figure ventures out into the bright lights of the main street that leads to the dance club. The sudden shock of going from total darkness to the brightness of the city causes a piece this hulking behemoth to fall off and start slithering back to the peaceful darkness of the harbor. Following his instinct, the dark figure follows the escaping part of his body, only to be confronted by smaller figures dressed in the familiar garbs of the Foot.
Instantly the huge figure grabs one of the men by the throat, nearly covering his whole head in the process.
The other smaller figure turns and runs, recognizing the huge figure, as he makes a beeline straight back to the base and demands to see Master Tatsu. He explains in full what has transpired.
The only word that escapes Tatsu's lips is "SHREDDER!"
Go hide ye face in the shrubbery of Part One, Chapter Five (er, Three, Sir!)
Continue onward to Part Two Chapter One, Good Sir/Lady