Night 59: M11-M20 Hallway

[age_of_kings]

What in the name of all that was holy and good was going onTolten couldn't begin to imagine what a 'red alert' in this place consisted of, but his instincts kicked in and he leapt to his feet with a frightened expression. He was suddenly very glad he'd eaten his weak dinner, and the greyness that swam behind his eyes didn't drag him back down to

Comments

M18

[meanandgreen]

In the life of a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle, very few things are certain. You never know when the next alien invasion will hit, or when a hoard of rat-eating robots will chew a hole through your living room wall, or when a gang of magic wooden ninjas will come and knock you for a loop. But if there's one thing Raphael could be completely sure about, it's that alarms were never a good thing. Neither was waking up in a strange place with a headache the size of Jersey, but he had a feeling that was the least of his worries.

"...Ugh. What the--?"

His heart was thundering in his chest before he could even get his eyes open. His first thought was Donny's security alarm. Someone must've broken into the Lair. A familiar pit of black anger boiling in his stomach, he rushed out of the too-soft bed and reached for his sai with a menacing growl, muscles tight and ready to tear the intruder limb-from-limb.

At least that's how it played out in his head. Instead, he found himself planted on his butt on the floor, aching and completely weaponless.

Concussion. He must have a concussion. That's why he felt so funny. They were up on the roof when those wooden ninjas kicked the crud out of them. Must've dragged them off someplace after he got knocked out. Now he was who the heck knows where. And alone.

He ran a hand over his aching chest, only to pull away like it burned him. It felt strange. Warm. Sensitive. Something was definitely wrong with his hands, and whoever had the bright idea of putting clothes on him was gonna pay.

"Great," he grit, wincing as he tried to get his legs to cooperate. His balance was all kinds of messed up. Using the side of the bed, he managed to haul himself up to standing. Then, a pink glow filled the room and Raph finally got a glance of what was really going on. The hands holding him up weren't his own; they were human.

A bolt of horror rushed through him as he jerked away, reeling backwards on wobbly legs like a newborn foal. The hands followed him. The corner of a desk jabbed into the sensitive flesh of his lower back, and Raph howled with rage at the foreign pain.

"Who did this!?" He roared, pitching forward again, scrabbling to find his balance. A door on the far end of the room caught his eye. Red clouded his vision. It had to be locked. There was no way whoever decided to use him for this little "experiment" would want him getting out. He'd just break the damn thing down.

His heartbeat hammered in his ears as he dug his heels into the linoleum and charged like a raging bull. Turns out human shoulders hurt a lot worse than the turtle variety when slammed into an immovable object, but Raph wouldn't let that stop him. Instead he picked himself up again and started pounding on it like a raving lunatic.

Soon as he got the initial rage out of his system, he would realize the door was unlocked.

[to here]