"Something's not right." Michelangelo whispered as his brother tensed ahead of him, weary of the change in atmosphere. Donatello motioned him to stop, pulling his bo staff into a readied position. In two hours, the alley would be softened by the sunrise but, for now, ominous shadows lined its walls, ascending to the rooftops above. The darkness around them made it nearly impossible to see the threat, but years of intense ninjitsu training allowed them to sense danger in a heartbeat. Now was no exception. Michelangelo half-consciously followed Don's example as he removed a pair of nunchaku from his belt. Moments later, a swift buzz destroyed the silence. "Dodge!" Both brothers fell to the side as a wave of shuriken flew towards them.
The shadows broke apart. Two figures emerged on either side of the turtles, katanas and kusari chains held firmly in their grips. Behind them, the dark mass dissipated, forming rows that blocked any feasible exit from the scene. As the figures became apparent, so did the direness of the situation. "Shit! Donnie, they're Elite!"
"So I noticed…" Don estimated a count of fifteen or sixteen ninjas surrounding them, each wearing the distinct black and red dogi which marked them as a part of the Foot's highest rank. Had they been members of the clan's lower forces, the fight could hardly have been considered a challenge. As it stood, however, they found themselves facing Oroku Saki's closest and finest students who not only significantly outnumbered them, but also carried the fuel of anger caused by their master's demise. The battle was obviously mismatched, and both sides could see that it was not to the Turtles' advantage.
It didn't take long for the fight to erupt into unmerciful combat. Mike easily deflected a roundhouse kick to his midsection, but the action made it harder to evade the strike that followed. He felt the tip of a blade brush across his left shoulder, just missing its initial target: his neck. Beside him, Donatello wasn't faring much better. His bo connected with an opponent's head as he spun to avoid the sting of a tanto slicing his plastron. "Mike, watch your back!" His brother turned just in time to meet the oncoming katana's blade with a blow from his nunchuk. A side kick to the chest was enough to send the attacker off balance, but as soon as he fell, another took his place.
Although the turtles had managed to remain relatively close at the outbreak of the fight, the Elite's pervasive attacks made it necessary to separate in order to maintain control. The black-clad figures strategically positioned themselves between their rivals, obstructing Donatello's view of Mike's situation. A cry of pain a few yards away was enough to convince him that things were quickly spiraling downhill, but the constant stream of assailants made it impossible for Don to rush away from the onslaught and find his brother. No matter how many Foot he managed to take down, their numbers never seemed to diminish. As two attackers lunged forward, he managed a well-placed back kick, momentarily throwing off the enemy and clearing his line of vision.
"Mikey!" A pang of anxiety hit him at full force as he noticed Michelangelo's broken figure on the ground beside a growing pool of blood. Despite the dread that filled him, Donatello's own position left him powerless to act. He found himself weakening steadily, and the opposing force around him had now doubled. With a desperate burst of energy, Donatello threw himself at the nearest Foot Elite, letting his bo crash into the ninja's jaw. But the little space he gained from the attack was easily resealed. As he raised his weapon for another strike, he felt the end of a chain wrap around the bo, tearing it from his grip. A spinning kick suddenly connected with his head, knocking him to his knees. Don braced himself as the little hope he had left slipped away. An involuntary groan of pain escaped his lips as he was thrown against the nearest building. He lay still against the wall, incapable of avoiding the final kick that sent him sinking into oblivion.
Tanaka Junzo smiled in satisfaction as he stepped away from his unconscious adversary. The grin faded as another member drew a sword from its sheath, prepared to deliver a decapitating strike. "Enough! He is not the one we want." The harsh authority of his tone was enough to induce the man to promptly replace his weapon. "Leave them as they are; it isn't our concern whether these two live or die. But the Shredder will be avenged…with blood." He turned, fading back into the alley's remaining shadows. "Let this be a warning to their brother."
A female figure watched from above as the band of ninjas disappeared into the darkness of the surrounding alleyways. When she was certain the grounds were clear, her gaze returned to the still creatures on the pavement below. They would not survive long in their present condition. She would have to work quickly and carefully if she wanted them off the streets by daybreak.
On the horizon, the sun had begun to cast a tint of red against the sky.
Author's note:
Wow…this is the first piece of fanfiction I've written in a long time. I hope it's not too easy to tell! I'd really appreciate any reviews, comments, or suggestions. Feel free to post them up on the site or e-mail me at [email protected]