Fantasma

Chapter 1: Fantasma

"He who fights monsters should look into it that he himself does not become a monster. When you gaze into the abyss, the abyss also gazes into you."

Splish... splash. Quiet... very quiet. But Leonardo could feel the wetness of the ground beneath him as he moved through the sewers. He blinked, turned his head, and recognised he was near the lair. At the entrance, the stopped and shut his eyes.

Leonardo placed one hand on the asphalt, feeling the roughness of its texture seep into his skin. He looked up, still in his crouched position, with one blade drawn and ready.

And then, one of the thugs said something dangerous. "Ha! Those turtle freaks, even they fought better than you! What a joke you are. Can't stand the pressure, freak? Can't stand up to a couple of thugs like us?" They all joined in the laughter, but Leo didn't even flinch in the slightest.

'A leader cannot afford to crumble.' The turtles left hand balled into a fist, while his right tightened deathly hard around the handle of his katana. 'A leader cannot fail.'

A dark grin tugged at his lips. In the blink of an eye, he was standing up again and had unsheathed his second blade. That was all he could recall, because, at that point, sanity and reality blended into the darkness and blackness, just as his eyes did.

The blue cladded turtle lifted his head, and blinked open his eyes. They were back to their normal blue hues, but he knew that they wouldn't remain that colour for long. The turtle then felt a dampness on his palm, and looked down. Even in the unlit lair, he could tell it was blood that soaked his hand; it wasn't his.

That smile was back. Michelangelo, hidden behind their garbage pile worth of couch, suddenly sat up, his baby blue eyes tired. Leonardo immediately wiped the look off his face and gave his youngest brother a curt nod. He moved to retreat back into his bedroom, when the latter suddenly gave a short gasp.

"Leo, you're bleeding-!" Michelangelo cried frantically, his hands cupping either side of his face. "I'll go grab the first aid kit and-"

"MIKEY!!!!" An angry voice sounded through the lair.

The orange-clad turtle turned red and smiled sheepishly. "Looks like Raph found those ketchup packets I put under the toilet seat. Good one, huh, Leo? Leo-?"

The three turtles lapsed back into silence. Around them, the lair created sounds they normally didn't hear over their own ruckus. The pipes muffled a rush of water overhead, and Donatello's generators hummed in the corner, running the fans and air conditioning that kept the lair cool. The refrigerator kicked on and the water heater began rumbling its usual cycle.

"Hey!" Michelangelo called out. "What time is it?"

"Five," Donatello replied after a quick glance at his tablet. "More or less."

"And when will Leo get here?"

"I told you, Mikey, I don't-"

Almost as if on cue the turnstiles creaked idly, and there was a soft thud of footsteps. Everyone in the room Immediately perked up, their eyes turning to the entrance. The blue cladded turtle, covered in a large beige cloak that lazily draped over either shoulder.

"Thanks," Leo stated, dropping a small messenger bag onto the cold floor. "Didn't expect to see the lights on."

"You're home!"

Michelangelo leapt over the couch, raced up the steps and got to Leonardo just as Donatello did, sweeping them both up into a huge bear hug. Donatello bore it patiently as he held his brother, and Leonardo winced as Michelangelo pressed against bruises he didn't know he had.