Sleeping Death

Failure is Not Tolerated

                 

It's taken me a while to get back to work on this project. Sorry for the rather long, and unintentional hiatus. I hope that you guys will forgive me for that. I have officially learned that handling six ongoing stories at once is too much. Now that I've narrowed it down to four, I'm going to try and do better.

I hope to get this done before I go back to school, but I'm gonna be real busy these next two weeks. After that I have a free week where I hope to get a little work done and then it's time to go back to school. Anyway, if it isn't done before I get back to school, I intend to complete it not long after. This story was never intended to be particularly long.

So, yeah. Hope you enjoy! I apologize again for the long wait!

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The Stockmanfly sat in his lab at Shredder's headquarters, performing some intricate tests on the venom derivative he'd created. About an hour ago he had injected a rat with the poison. Said rat was now dead, but...there were still tiny blips ghosting across his life monitors. The more Baxter examined it, the more he began to suspect that the rat wasn't actually dead, rather, only seemingly so. Using the poison as a base, Baxter managed to undo what he had done and created an anti-venom. Curious, the half-man-half-fly injected the anti-venom into his test subject and watched in fascination as all signs of life disappeared for a few moments before returning full force. Within an hour of injection, the test subject was once again alive and well.

But that meant...if the turtles somehow came up with the same anti-venom...they'd be able to revive their supposedly dead brother! Slowly, the fly buzzed his way to the throne room.

"Mazzzter Shredder."

"What do you want, Stockman?" The walking can-opener growled.

"I have found out something interesting about the death serum I created. The first injection does not really kill the victim, but induces a death-like state. If given anti-venom within three days of being poisoned, life can be restored."

"WHAT?!" The Shredder yelled, enraged. "Then the turtle is not actually dead."

"Not yet sir. I'm afraid Raphael is merely in a state of suspended animation."

"STOCKMAN!!!"

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The lair was dark. A lone turtle—his white eyes narrowed with focus—crept silently down the hall, carefully glancing about to make sure the coast was clear. With every ounce of ninja stealth his father had ingrained in him, he made it to the little pool of water that led out into the sewers. He glanced back over his shoulder at the hallway and the home he had known for so long.

"I'm sorry Father," he whispered, "but I will avenge my brother."

He lowered himself into the water and swam away. On the other side, he stretched to his full height and pressed warily against the tunnel wall, making sure the coast was clear.

"Did you really think it would be that easy?"

He froze mid-step. Turning around was pointless. He knew what he would find. Being caught in the act was always disappointing, especially for a trained ninja. To be fair, though, Donnie was a ninja, too.

"Go home," he ordered.

"No."

Leo sighed. His head dropped to his chest. If there was one thing they all had in common, it was stubbornness.