Lost To Darkness - TMNT 2012 Fanfic

Chapter 3

In a dimly lit chamber deep within the heart of a Foot Clan stronghold, Mikey found himself trapped. The air was thick with a damp chill, sending shivers down his spine as he tried making sense of his surroundings. Chains adorned the cold stone walls, their presence casting eerie shadows that danced across the stone floor, binding his arms and legs. Mikey's head throbbed, the fierce struggle still fresh in his memory. He winced as he touched the back of his head, feeling the tender bruise and the absence of his orange mask. His nunchaku had been taken from him, leaving him defenseless and vulnerable in this grim place.

As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he caught sight of a single torch flickering on the wall, casting flickering shadows that seemed to taunt him. The scent of decay hung heavily in the air, mingling with an unfamiliar metallic tang. It was a smell that sent a prickle of unease down his spine, a feeling that intensified as the source of his discomfort.

From the corner of the room emerged a figure cloaked in the shadow's embrace, their presence commanding attention. It was none other than Karai. Her piercing gaze fixed upon Mikey, a mixture of curiosity and something else that was harder to read.

"You're far from home, Turtle," she remarked, her voice like a cold whisper in the dank air.

Mikey's instincts kicked in, and he tried to summon his usual bravado. "Yeah, well, I was just in the neighborhood, you know? Thought I'd drop by and say hi." His attempt at humor wavered in the face of his current situation.

Karai's lips curled into a faint smile, her eyes gleaming with amusement and something darker. "Your brothers must be worried about you."

His bravado faltered, and Mikey's expression shifted to a mix of frustration. "Look, whatever you're planning, it's not gonna work. My brothers will find me, and they'll stop you."

Karai's laughter echoed through the chamber, a chilling sound that echoed off the stone walls. "Oh, dear Turtle, you misunderstand. This is not about them. This is about you and the debt that the Hamato family owes the Foot Clan."

Mikey's confusion deepened, his brow furrowing as he tried to make sense of her words. "Debt? What are you talking about?"

Karai's gaze bore into him, her tone taking on a note of dark satisfaction. "Your family's meddling has consequences, Michelangelo. And now, it's time for you to pay the price."

The weight of her words settled over Mikey like a heavy fog, his thoughts racing as he tried to piece together the puzzle of his captivity. He was trapped in the clutches of the Foot Clan, and the answers he needed were hidden behind Karai's smile.

"What do you-" He took a cautious step forward, his intent to know more. But once he did so, an intense burning sensation erupted in his neck and legs, causing him to cry out in pain. The agony pierced his body, leaving him gasping for breath and clutching at his throat.

Karai watched with a cold detachment, indifferent to his agony. "A little something to ensure you stay put," she remarked, as if causing him pain was nothing more than an afterthought.

Mikey's limbs trembled as he struggled to remain on his feet, his vision swimming from the intensity of the pain. His nunchaku felt like a distant memory as he grappled with the torment coursing through his body.

Karai turned away from Mikey, her purpose evident in her every movement. "I'll be leaving now," she announced, her tone devoid of any concern. "But don't worry, Turtle. I'll be back soon, and then you can have a little chat with the Shredder."

"H-Hey!"

With a dismissive wave of her hand, Karai left the chamber, leaving Mikey writhing in pain on the cold stone floor. His breaths came in ragged gasps as he fought to endure it, the burning sensation slowly subsiding but leaving him weaker than before. He laid down on the ground, trying his best to catch his breath, his fingers curling into the uneven stone beneath him.

His gaze landed to his chained legs, but he couldn't see anything on them that could've caused him pain. Heck, it wasn't even hot! "Shell, what was that all about...?"

Before he could ponder, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the chamber, drawing his attention. A chilling presence filled the room, causing shivers to run down Mikey's spine. Slowly, his eyes widened as he saw two figures step into the dim light.

The first was a towering figure, clad in the menacing armor of the Shredder. His helmet obscured his features, casting an aura of intimidation around him. Beside him stood Tiger Claw, his feline eyes fixed on Mikey with a predatory gleam. Mikey was afraid, a lump forming in his throat as he looked at the two figures.

The Shredder's voice, cold and commanding, cut through. "You Hamatos dare to meddle in the affairs of the Foot Clan?"

He may have been weakened and vulnerable, but he wasn't without spirit. With a defiant glint in his eyes, he pushed himself into a sitting position, his fingers brushing against the floor for support. "Meddling?" Mikey retorted, his voice laced with a mixture of anger and bravado. "More like saving, Shred-head. It's kinda our thing to protect the innocent and stop guys like you from wrecking the city."

"You speak with the arrogance of youth," the Shredder responded, his tone low and measured. "But your words change nothing. You have messed where you do not belong, and now, you shall face the consequences."

Mikey's defiance held firm, despite his weakened state and the imposing presence of the Shredder. He locked eyes with the towering figure in the menacing armor, refusing to back down in the face of intimidation.

Beside the Shredder, Tiger Claw's eyes narrowed as he watched Mikey with a predatory gleam. He leaned in, his voice a low, ominous rumble as he added to the tension in the room. "You may be brave, little turtle, but bravery won't save you here. The Foot Clan does not take... nuisances lightly."

Mikey's heart raced, but he refused to show fear. He knew he was in a perilous situation, but his brothers had always taught him to stand his ground, no matter the odds. The Shredder's gloved hand clenched into a fist, and for a moment, it seemed like he might strike. But then, he pulled back, as if savoring the anticipation of what was to come.

... What was to come of him?