Don't worry, this won't spoil the story for ya or anything.
Mastermold may be the biggest villain in ZEROHOUR, in theory. But the most prominent villain, the nastiest, the one we love to hate, is Raph's tormenter, known thus far only as the Dark Tracker.
He's a fascinating character, I believe, and more will be revealed about him later in ZEROHOUR. But in my little notebook, right after the first version of Raph's capture comes the first version of Raph's meeting with the Dark Tracker. The original and final scenes in this case barely even resemble each other. But when writing the scene where Raph talks to this evil man, I used this early version as a reference.
In this original version, the name of the Dark Tracker is obvious, and Raphael knows him and calls him by name. When I wrote ZEROHOUR I decided to make things mysterious by withholding the Dark Tracker's name and by having Raphael not know him. In ZEROHOUR, the Dark Tracker's name is an important factor which will come out later in the story. Since I don't want to spill the beans (as of this writing, the name has not been revealed), I have blocked the name of the Tracker with asterisks each time it is used. Hope that's not too confusing, but the only alternative is to spoil part of the story.
There's a lot of miscellaneous dialog involving Scott "Cyclops" Summers and Scott's son Jeremy. Simply ignore it. It doesn't have any real bearing on ZEROHOUR, it was just an idea I was messing around with in the first version of the scene. So don't worry if it confuses you, most of the information that would make the dialog comprehensible is locked up in my head still.
After the first version is the final version as it appeared in Day 4: Memory of ZEROHOUR.
"Raph meets Dark Tracker" scene, V1.0
The Sentinel moved aside and allowed the tracker and his two guards to enter the cell. Raphael lay slumped in the back corner, his leg stretched out and wrapped in some old, bloody rags of bandages. He lifted his arms to shield his eyes from the sudden, harsh light spilling into the cell.
"Good morning, Raphael. How are we today?" said the Tracker, ***, with a smile. Raphael didn't answer. *** smiled again. "Tell me, Raphael, are you finally ready to tell me what I wish to know?"
"Shove it," he whispered painfully.
"Come now, be reasonable, my friend. Simply tell me what I wish to know, and I will see that you are spared your life. We'll take care of that nasty wound in your leg. I can get you good food and water too, but you must cooperate first."
"Go away."
"You are being foolish, Raphael. Simply tell me what message you were carrying, where and with whom you were carrying it, and we will provide for your care, and perhaps even an eventual release."
"I'll never betray my friends. I'm not like you, ***."
"I betrayed no one. You rebels are fools. I simply chose to be on the winning side. And that's Mastermold."
"I highly doubt it."
"Oh really? Why?"
"You won't get me that easily, ***. How did you turn out so badly? Where did Jeremy go wrong?"
"Jeremy was not wrong. He merely trained the greatest warrior on Earth, master of optic blasts, surpassing even Scott Summers."
"Ha. Is that what you really think?"
"What's it to you?" snarled ***. "I am the master!"
"Scott was a better man that you ever were!" *** picked him up and slammed him against the wall. Raphael cried out.
"You take that back!"
"Never," Raphael gasped.
"Fine. Go ahead and rot, you little rebel bastard!" He slammed out of the cell as Raphael slumped back against the wall again. The door was shut.
"Raph meets Dark Tracker" scene, Final Version
Raphael was rudely awakened by a booted toe in his side. He came awake gasping and choking for air, staring at the black-booted feet of a Tracker. He looked up, recognized the dark one from the day before. He tried to lunge at the man’s throat, but he was halted by the chains which secured his wrists to the wall and his feet to the floor. Also, his leg wound did not help his efforts. It was in the same miserable condition as the day before. No chance of escape anyway: two Trackers guarded the door to his small, cement cell, both holding torches in one hand, burn-lasers in the other. Raph grimaced, seeing a smaller version of the weapon that had caused his own wound.
"Wakey, wakey," said the Tracker. "Enjoy your nap?" Raph snarled something incomprehensible and tried to go for the Tracker’s throat again. He tried to guess the time--late night? Early morning? Just how long had he slept? The Tracker did not seem worried by Raph’s attempts to kill him. Instead, he grew suddenly businesslike. "Time for a little Q and A. Let’s begin." He smirked down. "I’ll skip the preliminaries. Why don’t you just tell me who your friend was?"
"What friend?" Raph’s answer got him another kick.
"Don’t play stupid with me, Raphael, because I know damn well you’re not! The person who was traveling with you. Who was it."
Raphael closed his eyes against the pain and grimaced. His side ached now, in addition to his leg. And he mustn’t tell this bastard of a Tracker anything. He couldn’t. Raph’s silence annoyed the Tracker. "Well?" Raph shrugged. "Fine. Let’s try another. What message were you carrying?" Raph, again, refused to answer. "To where were you carrying it?" No answer. The Tracker suddenly changed tacks. He knelt at Raph’s side, ran his hand down his leg. Raph winced as he touched the makeshift bandages. "Hurts, doesn’t it?" he said softly. "Burn lasers do that. I know you rebels have trouble treating the burns properly. But we--we know how. Be nice, wouldn’t it?" Raph bit his lip and looked away. "Come on, be reasonable. Just tell me who your partner was in this, and I’ll make sure you get that leg properly treated and bandaged. Might even be able to get you painkillers." The temptation was fleeting, but Raph felt it. He shut it out. He’s your brother. You wanted to protect him; you can’t rat on him now. Raph opened his eyes and glared at the Tracker.
The man sighed. "Very well," he said, and motioned to a guard, who left the room. Another white-coated Tracker appeared. Raph tried not to cringe away. "Half dose this time," the Tracker instructed. "I want him up this afternoon."
"Understood," said the other man, and bent close with the syringe. Raph couldn’t help flinching as the man jabbed the needle into the soft flesh of his elbow bend. His body was bathed in sweat with the effort of not crying out, or even shaking. Why does it always have to be frigging needles? he wondered desperately. There had been more than one occasion on which he ended up stuck full of needles in a lab, some jerk’s science project. Maybe that explained his sheer terror at any and all syringes he’d seen since. Raph sank back against the wall.
"Rest now," said the dark Tracker, as he turned to go. "Rest, and look forward to our next meeting." With a cruel sneer, he swept out. The door clanged shut behind Raph, leaving him in total darkness.
The TMNT (Leonardo, Michaelangelo, Donatello, Raphael), April O'Neil, and associated characters are copyright 1998 Mirage Publishing. The Sentinels and Trackers are shamelessly ripped off from Marvel Comics and the X-men cartoon show. This story, and the dark Tracker character, are copyright 1998 Luna Azul. Any attempt to steal, plagarize, edit, or in any way use this material will result in me doing something that you will regret sincerely.