Salvation 2: Adramlech
Warnings: Violence, Demons
Disclaimers: I don't own the turtles, Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird, and perhaps Image do. I make no money from this.
Michaelangelo lounged on the couch, flipping through the channels at lightning speed. Soap opera, Teletubbies, soap opera, infomercial, soap opera, news, soap opera, the 700 Club and...soap opera! He groaned, readjusted himself and tried one more channel.
"Now all we really have to do is take the scalpel across the cornea, slicing along this vein--"
"Gah!" Mike turned the set off and looked away. There was nothing to do. He checked the clock. Almost two in the afternoon. He knew there was something that they usually did at this time, but he could be wrong. After all, he'd only woken up a few hours ago.
"You okay, Mike?" Don's voice echoed from the computer.
Mike glanced up. "Yeah, fine. I just found that channel where they slice people up and there are guts flying everywhere, that's all." He leaned over the top of the couch and looked at the computer screen. Apparently his brother was looking up renaissance painters.
"What you looking for?" he asked.
"Oh, just looking up our namesakes," Don answered.
Raphael came in from the exercise room, his sais perfectly polished and his mask soaked with sweat.
"Raph, were you actually exercising?" Mike gasped.
"Yeah," Raph growled, "you gotta problem with that?"
"No no," the youngest said quickly. "It's just...why? It's so strenuous."
Raphael rolled his eyes and made his way to the shower. "Whatever."
Donatello watched him leave, then turned back to the screen. "I think he's crazy."
Mike nodded and flipped the TV on again. It was 1:55. New shows would be coming on in a few minutes. Maybe even Wheel of Fortune!
Splinter suddenly came out of his private room and strode into the kitchen. "Do we have any green tea left?" he asked, his voice uncharacteristically slow.
"Do I look like I care?" Mike sighed impatiently. "Look for yourself."
Instead of reacting to that, Splinter just opened the cupboards lethargically, looking more like a zombie than an old sensei. When he realized there wasn't any tea left, he sighed, then turned and went back to his room.
"Stupid rodent," Mike whispered. The TV had something about a new amusement park on the edge of the city. Big deal. He flipped through the channels again, then decided it was useless and went to watch Donatello. "Anything interesting?"
"Not much," Don answered. "Why were we named after these guys? They're all losers. A few paintings, big deal. Donatello, Raphael, Michaelangelo--"
"Yeah, but my guy did a whole ceiling," Mike laughed.
"--and Leonardo."
They both stopped, staring at the name. Something in their memories struggled to rise up, to throw itself in front of them. Then Mike frowned.
"Can you believe he's actually gone?" he asked.
"Yes," Don said firmly. "Finally gone. I thought we'd never get rid of that coward."
"Damn traitor," Mike hissed. "I wish I'd been able to kill him."
"We all wish that," came a sudden voice from the front door. "It's a shame he got away."
They looked at the speaker: tall, broad shouldered, and unbelievably muscular with inhuman eyes and cloven hooves. He came inside as if he owned the place and crashed on the couch.
"Hey, Adram," Mike said. "Where were you?"
"Out," Adram said simply.
Several minutes passed. The only sound was the point and click of Donatello's mouse. Then Raphael came back in, heading for the subway car with his bed.
"Were you exercising?" Adram asked.
"What do you care?" the turtle snapped.
Adram stood up and looked Raphael in the eye. "I told everyone to stop that. You don't have to do it anymore."
"I was bored!" Raph argued. "I couldn't leave--"
"You won't train anymore," Adram ordered, staring into Raphael's eyes. "Is that understood?"
Raphael wanted to look away, but there was something mesmerizing in Adram's eyes. He had to watch them. "Understood. It won't happen again." Meekly, Raph started for his car again.
"Have you finished cleaning out the traitor's things?" Adram called after him.
"Not yet," Raph started, but Adram cut him off.
"Now."
Raph sighed, then turned and went to Donatello's car. Leo's stuff was still there.
"Don't get any of his things on mine!" Don yelled at him.
"Relax," Raph snarled, going in.
"He's such a problem child," Mike grimaced. "Almost as bad as that traitor."
Adram closed his eyes thoughtfully. "Yes, almost."
*~*~*~*~*~*
The storm raged outside, lightning flashing across the sky, and the thunder crashed so hard it threatened to break the windows. Rain was already flooding the New York streets, plunging into the sewers. The water would have hit the lair if they hadn't taken precautions and set up new walls years ago. Still, the rain was awfully strong, almost as strong as the wind which was throwing light posts down. The night was violent and freezing.
Leonardo relished it. It reminded him that he was alive, and right now, he needed that more than anything else.
He stood on the top of a tenement building, long condemned and abandoned. He'd had to clean out the gang that had met there, but that hadn't taken too long. Now he only had to get rid of lone trespassers, and those were far and few between. Word had already reached the streets that there was a demon living inside the building.
He closed his eyes.
*~*~*~*~*~*
He remembered that night, almost as stormy as this night. He'd been out for hours, on a long exercise run that had taken him down the most punk infested alleys of New York. He'd been tired, exhausted even, but not really looking forward to going home. He'd enjoyed beating the criminals up. It was a good release. Being leader really made for some tense moments in his life, and that tension rarely went away. He had needed a change of pace. He'd even left his katanas at home, choosing instead to work with the daggers he had. It forced him to improve his agility.
There had been voices coming from the lair, angry, even enraged voices. Instead of going in immediately, he had eavesdropped, not wanting to step into an argument. A few seconds later he figured out that the discussion had been about him.
"He's evil!" came a strange voice, and he heard his brothers cheer.
"He's a demon!" that strange voice said, and his brothers rallied around it like a battle cry.
"He overworks you, forces you to fight battles you shouldn't be in, risking your lives for nothing."
Leo had thought the voice was cursing Splinter at first.
"Why should you listen to him anymore?"
Leo peered through the large keyhole, trying to get a look at the stranger. Tall, blond, obviously on steroids. Were his brothers actually listening to him?
"Will you hesitate to slaughter him?" the man asked.
"No!" came the unanimous cry.
"Splinter, will you hesitate to kill your son?"
Leonardo had craned to see his master. The rat was sitting on the couch, not caring about how awful the conversation was.
"Leonardo is not my son," Splinter said with steely conviction. "Given the chance, I will slit his throat myself."
Leo had reeled back at that point, eyes wide. What? No, this had to be a dream. A nightmare. He stumbled and one of his daggers dropped onto the ground.
"He's out there!" He recognized Donatello's voice.
"Kill him!" Was that actually Mike?
Leonardo didn't hesitate. He grabbed his dagger and raced down the sewers, then ducked into an access tunnel. Mike and Don ran by, unaware that he was there. Their weapons were held high, ready to do damage. The strange man followed quickly after them, cheering them on.
A few seconds later, Raphael came walking through the tunnel, sais drawn. He glanced around himself, then looked to his left.
"There you are," he growled.
"Raph, what are you doing?" Leo asked, holding onto his knives. "Who's that guy?"
"Adram," Raph said proudly, crouching low. "Our new leader."
"What?" Leo had to leap as Raphael dove at him. He landed smoothly in the main tunnel. "Are you insane?"
"No, you are," his brother hissed, slashing at him again. "You tried to kill us. You've always tried to kill us."
Leo ducked back, then stared into his brother's eyes. They didn't seem crazy. If Raphael hadn't been trying to stab him, he wouldn't have known something was wrong. "What do you mean?" he asked, stalling for time. "I've never tried to kill you. I've always tried to protect you. I'd give my life to keep you safe."
"You coward," Raphael cried, thrusting a sai towards him. "Lies over lies. You've never done anything right. We'd be better off without you."
Leonardo shook his head slowly. "No, I've always tried to protect you, can't you remember?"
"Liar!" Raph raged. "Traitor! Hold still so I can kill you!"
"I don't think so," Leo answered, backing away. He didn't want to fight his brother, but Raph was intent on killing him. He took his only other option. Turning quickly, he fled down the tunnel, winding his way through the maze of sewers until he came to the opening in the lower East side. He was up before Raphael came through the corridor and out of sight several seconds afterward.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Leo sighed and leaned over the edge, looking down at the flooded streets. He knew better than trying to go back. If his brothers were dangerous, Splinter was downright deadly. If he went home now, he'd be killed for sure. Besides, he didn't need his katanas. He had the daggers. That was enough. The only other things he'd had were his books, and he had slowly gotten rid of those so that he only had a few left now.
Why do you hate me so much? he asked silently. What did I do? Who the hell is Adram?
He shook his head. It'd been almost a week since he'd been driven out. They were probably right anyway. Still...a week and I haven't been able to find out anything else...damn it. Tomorrrow...yes, tomorrow I'll go back and kill whoever that guy is. Even if it kills me, I have to keep them safe. Leo lay down on the roof, enjoying the feel of the rain on his skin. The lightning crashed over him, but he was tired. In a few minutes, he was fast asleep.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Raphael piled the two or three books under Leo's bed on the floor, then placed the katanas beside them. He lifted the bed up onto its head, about to drag it out, when something dropped out from between the mattress and the frame. He set the bed back down and picked up what looked like another book. Opening it, he realized it was something else.
A journal? he asked silently. The traitor kept a journal?
He knew Adram should see this, that it might help find a way to hunt down and kill the traitor, but Raphael had the deep desire to read it first. He looked outside. Adram was fast asleep on the couch. Mike and Don were still at the computer. And Splinter...the rat was probably fast asleep again. He slept a lot now.
A simple plan hatched in his mind. Tucking the journal into his belt, he stood up and made his way to the front door as quietly as he could. When he placed his hand on the doorknob and turned, though, Adram suddenly snapped to attention.
"Raphael, what are you doing?"
The impulse to run overwhelmed him. He threw the door open and dashed out into the tunnels, praying he could get away before they caught him. He need not have worried. They were too slow. He came up out of the first manhole cover he found and disappeared into the shadows, easily vanishing in the storm.
When he was certain that he hadn't been followed, Raphael settled down in a factory that had been shut down 'till the storm was over. He settled against some machinery, lit one of the flashlights that had been left behind, and started to read.
*~*~*~*~*~*
September 6
I don't know why I'm writing this. Master Splinter said that I was too tense, too serious. He said I needed to get my thoughts down, even if I'm just writing them in a dairy. But this is not a diary. That sounds too stupid. I'll just call this a journal.
It's kind of dumb to write thoughts down. I can't write fast enough. Besides, there's nothing to say. I know what I'm feeling. Who cares if I write it down or not?
*~*~*~*~*~*
September 19
I don't know why I let them get under my skin so much. None of them wants to practice. Mike just wants to play. Don won't use anything but his staff. I think he's afraid of knives and swords. Maybe he doesn't realize how perfect swords are. And Raphael's the worst, always yelling, always coming down on us. I think he hates that he has to listen to what I say. I'm just glad he doesn't know how much I'd like to trade places with him. It's kind of lonely, having to listen to Splinter all the time. I don't have much spare time like they do. It's not fair.
Maybe this journal isn't so dumb after all.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Raphael looked up, resting his eyes. His brother had such neat handwriting that it made him sick. It was like reading type. He looked around himself, then starting in again. Most of it was just day to day gripes and worries, but as he turned the pages, he realized that the journal's tone was becoming darker. There were drawings and sketches of knives, swords and severed heads in the borders. Sketched blood dripped from the tops of the pages.
*~*~*~*~*~*
June 15
I did it again. I totally screwed up. We were lucky to get out of that fight alive. I never expected that the gang would have reinforcements. My stupidity almost cost Mike his life. The others don't know it, but one of the Dragons had him targeted in his sights. I managed to nail him with a throwing star, but I should have realized that the gang had more people in their corner. If I hadn't hit him dead center the first time, we'd be short one brother now. Maybe I should let Raph have his way, let him lead.
*~*~*~*~*~*
June 24
Raphael yelled at us again, but I understand why he did it. He's angry 'cause Master Splinter wouldn't let him run off tonight, and he's venting his anger at us. I wouldn't mind so much if he didn't pick on Mike or Don, just me. He started razzing Mike, and I wouldn't let him. I got between him and my little brother. That's when he hit me.
I didn't mean to fight, but I couldn't stop myself. I swept him off his feet, and when he finally got back up I backhanded him. He landed hard on the mat, then came back after me. I've never seen him so angry. I don't remember how long we fought. It seemed like hours but later Mike said it was just a few minutes. Master Splinter pulled us apart, sent Mike and Don to their rooms and wouldn't let Raph leave the training room. And when we were alone in his room, he slapped me.
He's never hit me before. He'd never yelled before, either.
I just stood still until he said I could leave. I didn't go where my brothers were. I just left. I can't remember where I went. Probably just a few feet from the front door. I don't like this responsibility thing anymore.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Raphael rubbed his eyes. He had just gone through, seven, maybe eight years. He was starting to get tired, but for some reason, he was feeling better. His head felt clear. With Adram, everything had been so murky, like walking underwater. He kept reading. Memories were starting to come back to him, slowly at first, but faster as he read. He recognized different days. Leonardo mentioned the day he'd killed Oroku Saki, but he talked about it like it had been one big failure. He only noticed the mistakes he made, never realizing that he'd killed a master in a duel. More years went by in the journal. One passage was especially interesting.
December 24
I'm sick of fighting. I'm tired. I want to end this all. As soon as possible. If I could finish this Foot clan, then it'd be over. At least the pace would slow down. I know I could do it. If I don't have to worry about my brothers being hurt, or if I don't have to think about holding back, then I'm sure I could do it.
Christmas is coming up. Doesn't really matter. I've stopped noticing holidays. I'm not sure when this happened, but I haven't noticed anything lately. I've gotten better with my swords, though. I've been practicing non-stop. Splinter told me I should cut back a little, but I like practicing. I think he's worried about me. Doesn't matter. When I kill all the Foot clan, then he won't worry. Then it'll all be finished. I'm still bored. I think an exercise run'll be good right now. It'll clear my head.
*~*~*~*~*~*
The next passage had been entered several weeks later. Raphael realized that it was when they'd returned after that Christmas eve, when Leo nearly had died, but even then, he hadn't written anything for weeks. This time, the handwriting wasn't as neat. It was almost messy.
*~*~*~*~*~*
April 7
I can't write without looking at the last entry. It's painful. I can still hear the laughter, if I close my eyes. So stupid. Arrogant. I should never have been given this responsibility. I don't deserve it. A failure. Raph said it so long ago, that's all I'd ever be. I don't think he knew how right he was.
*~*~*~*~*~*
The next dozen or so passages were as short and self-loathing. He shook his head, trying to relax his neck muscles. Outside, the storm had finally started to calm down. Of course, that meant that Adram and his brothers might come looking for him. At least the flashlight wasn't flickering, though. Several pages later, almost two years, he hit something odd.
*~*~*~*~*~*
March 14
Raphael disappeared again. He'll never know how nervous I get when he does that. Or maybe I'm jealous. He seems to be able to go an entire night without getting hurt too bad. Not like me. I couldn't even make it though one night. Not one damned--
Anyways, it doesn't matter. He'll show up tomorrow and complain that I'm prying into his life. I wish he wouldn't be so cruel.
*~*~*~*~*~*
There the passages stopped. Raphael flipped through the pages at the back and found a sketch on the back inside panel. It was a picture of a grave, no name or anything, but it was detailed. There were no trees or grass, just rocks and a barren desert. The sky was overcast and the wind was pushing dust across the ground. Leonardo had obviously spent a long time on it.
I have to find him, Raph suddenly thought. Something's not right. A traitor wouldn't write this. And Adram doesn't want us to train or leave the lair. It doesn't add up. I have to find Leo.
*~*~*~*~*~*
After a long sleep, Raphael left the factory and wandered outside for awhile. After a few minutes, though, he realized that he needed information. It would be useless to try and find his brother just by searching building by building. But who to ask?
An hour and fifteen gang members later, Raphael was beginning to get frustrated. Beating up street punks was his best method of getting information, but nobody here knew anything. Time to check the east side. That seemed much more promising.
"I swear I don't know anything!"
Raphael smiled sadistically, dangling the punk upside down from a very high rooftop. "That's obvious. I wanna know if you've heard anything."
"What?" The kid seemed ready to faint. "Whaddoyawanna know?"
"Like, are there any places off limits now that weren't a couple days ago? Like a building that nobody can go in anymore?"
"Yeah, yeah, the old Dragon's lair," the kid ranted, "there's a demon inside it! Killed a bunch of them, won't let no one back in! Please let me go!"
"Okay, kid," Raphael laughed, purposefully shaking him a little before tossing him back onto the roof. The Dragon's lair, huh? That's in the projects. I can get there in ten minutes.
When he got there, he almost didn't go in. The door had been boarded up, along with all the windows. Even down here, the broken down building stood out. It looked dead. He circled it for a few minutes, then found a window that hadn't been completely blocked. He pushed one of the boards up, then slid inside, quietly making his way through the barren floor. Dust covered everything.
He found the stairs and started making his way up, silently climbing the loose stairs. Broken bottles and blood littered the entire floor. Leo obviously didn't clean up after the fight, he smirked. He glanced around the second floor, then went up to the third floor when he didn't see anything.
"Leo? You in here?" he softly called out.
There was a slight rustle to his right. He whirled and noticed the shadow in the corner. Cautiously, and trying not to make any sudden motions, he crept across the floor.
"What do you want?" the shadow suddenly asked.
"Leo, we've got to talk," Raph started, but his brother cut him off.
"I thought you wanted me dead," he laughed bitterly, "I thought I was a traitor and that everyone wanted to kill me."
"I'm...not sure now," Raph admitted, sitting down across from Leonardo. "I know Adram's lying, and I can remember a lot of things now, but...it's just that everything was so clear before, and now it's not. But it wasn't clear then either, and it is now."
"What?" Leo asked. "That doesn't make sense."
"I know. But I don't know how to explain it."
"Try starting at the beginning," Leo said, leaning into moonlight. "Who's this Adram?"
He looks so tired, Raph thought sadly. "I don't know, really. I came home and Mike was already talking to him like he'd known him all his life. Splinter was fast asleep in his room, and Don wasn't really paying attention. He was just watching his computer."
Raphael folded his hands. "I remember not trusting Adram, but he looked at me, and after a few minutes I had this feeling that I could trust him with everything. He seemed perfectly safe. And when he started saying you were evil, I thought he was telling the truth."
"Evil how?"
"Just...I don't know. Like you were to blame for all of our problems. He never gave us a real reason. But when I was listening to him, he was making perfect sense."
Leo took a deep breath. "Like mind control?"
Raphael nodded. "I think so. Even Splinter was listening to him. And I didn't really argue with him, either."
Leonardo smiled unexpectedly. "The man's a miracle worker."
Raph gave him a sarcastic grin. "Yeah, a real saint."
"So how did you break free?" Leo asked.
"What?"
"Yeah, what made you get out of there?"
Raphael fidgeted uncomfortably. That made Leo immediately nervous. His brother never fidgeted.
"Raph? What is it?"
"I found your journal."
Leonardo gasped and leaned back. "You what?"
"I didn't mean to. Adram told me to get rid of all your stuff, and it fell out when I--"
"Did you read it?" Leo interrupted.
Raph nodded.
"How much?"
"All of it." Raphael pulled the journal out and handed it to his brother.
Leo groaned and looked up at the ceiling. "I knew I should have burned this damn thing."
Raphael couldn't resist teasing his brother. "So you think I'd make a good leader?"
"Oh, sure, rub my face in it."
"And you hate Splinter's lectures, too?"
Leonardo sighed. "Now twist the knife the other way."
I might as well go easy on him. He's had a rough week. "What've you been doing in here?" Raph laughed. "Besides planning bloody revenge, that is."
"Sleeping, mostly," Leo said, laying the book beside him. "I've been exhausted most of the time."
"How've you been holding up?" Raph asked.
"Not that bad. Considering my family hates me, that I've been thrown out, nearly killed, disowned by my father..." Leo's voice trailed off and he looked away. "Not bad at all. Was I really that terrible," he asked, "that it was so easy to hate me?"
"No," Raph said firmly. "We were too weak to stop him. It wasn't your fault."
"I should have been there," Leo insisted. "I should have stopped him."
Raphael forced his brother to look at him. "No, Leo, you didn't cause this. Don't blame yourself. You are not going to keep hating yourself, not for this."
The elder laughed slightly. "I knew I should have burned that book."
Raph smiled. "Hey, at least it brought my memories back. So, what's the plan?"
Leo sighed and shook his head. "I have no idea. I didn't do so hot last time. We have to get him out into the open, though. It'd be harder to fight a...hypnotist...in closed quarters."
"I think he's more than hypnotist," Raph said. "He just looks at you and you want to obey him."
"Except the one person who doesn't want to obey anyone," Leo laughed.
Raph smiled again. "You're real damn lucky I don't want to. So, out in the open. Where?"
"Central Park? No, that new amusement park, the one they're building over Coney Island. Nobody's there at night."
"In an amusement park?" Raph asked, surprised. "In this weather? It's still pouring out there."
"Yeah, definitely an amusement park," Leo smiled darkly. "I'm gonna have fun taking this bastard down."