Fifty Reasons to Stay (Book Three)

Chapter Thirty Three- Child

(Donnie's POV)
Leo tip toed over to the door and locked it, then pushed the dresser in front of it. He knew she was there and vice versa, and she couldn't possibly get in at a time like this.

He then walked back over to the bed and sat down. "We'll take shifts. You get some sleep, Donnie. I'll wake you in a few hours."
"O-okay..." I held Teresa close to me and slowly laid back down. How could I sleep? Ha, I couldn't possibly. Not when some psychopathic serial killer sat on the other side of our door. I rested my hand on Leo's knee, staring up at him. He was scared, completely. But yet he put on a strong face for us, and even somehow gave me a smile. "It'll be okay." He whispered, touching my hand. "Just sleep a little."

Breathing in and out gently to calm myself, I did what he said and slept for three more hours, restlessly. But with the knowledge a strange woman was hunting my family, all I could do was be filled with dread.

And yet somehow I fell asleep.
~
I woke up a few hours later from the scent of pancakes and knew that she couldn't possibly still be in front of the door. Turning onto my side, I was relieved to find everyone okay.

Getting out of bed, I reached for my shirt and pants and attempted to put them on. I knew jeans were a bad idea and they took a lot longer than expected to put on. The shirt was easy, of course. I should've put sweatpants on. And I couldn't go downstairs with my pants unzipped. Sighing, I kicked the pants off and put on the other ones, then opened the door. Of course, she wasn't there.

I peeked back only once at my kids and Leo, reminding myself they'd be fine. I was going to take care of this once and for all.

"Good morning, Donatello," Hiroshi was standing awkwardly by the basement door, his skin incredibly pale. "There's.. there's some extra plates in the basement. Will you go get them?"
I knew she was down there, that she'd threatened him and he was doing this to protect everyone else. So I smiled brightly. "Sure!"

He opened the door for me, then put a hand on my shoulder. I could see the fear in his eyes. "We.. we didn't know. You have to understand that."
"It's okay. I'll get those plates now." I knew they meant well, but if they'd known anything at all they should've told us...

Making my way into the dark basement, I was immediately overwhelmed by the smell of rotting flesh. Holding my nose, I peeked under the stairs, holding back a cry of shock.

Andrew was right.

Dozens of half buried bones lie on the ground, but one of them was still deteriorating– this one was a very small baby boy with blond hair and the same facial features as Karai's son. He couldn't have been dead for more than a few days. I got on my knees and scooped up the poor lifeless baby, holding him close to my heart. "I'm so s-sorry..!! I– agh...." There was nothing I could say to bring back these children. Nothing I could do could ever bring them to justice.
Closing my eyes, I felt my head spinning and knew I was going to faint. Either that, or throw up, or both...

"You never had a child of your own, Donatello so you probably can't imagine the grief of a parent when they wake up to find their two month old baby dead." Akira– Leo's mother– stood nearby. "Karai didn't care. It was fine."

"You took all these babies... why..." I was too afraid to face her, so I clung onto the stiff infant. "Tell me."

"I was a good mother when I had Leonardo. We lived here." She sat next to me and yet I still refused to look at her. "I got pregnant again shortly after his birth and I decided I didn't want it. I wasn't ready. Of course, his father wanted me to keep it, but he wasn't even around half the time. So when she was born.. I covered her face with a pillow until she died." Akira smiled at the memory as if it was a good time; something she was proud of. "That started it all. Unfortunately, I couldn't do the same to Raphael. The aunts loved him. And I didn't mind him as much... he didn't look like his father. But Leo.. he was the damn spitting image. I treated him poorly, I'll admit.. I may have given him too much Tylenol and invited my friends to play with him.. but when that got old I started beating the shit out of him for no reason.. you should've seen how swollen his face would get from the bruises... and I suppose he never told you about how despite me torturing him, he still loved me? Still ran to me when he cried, still came into my bed when he had nightmares, still drew me pictures. Because he was stupid. He liked it."