The Killing Moon

This Does Not Spark Joy

Raphael reaches into the duffel bag where the remaining devices lay, and his eyes narrow at the sight of his t-cell flashing a bright red and emitting high pitched tones. "Aw, sewer apples! One of the sensors is already going off right down that tunnel," He turns towards his younger brother standing at the opposite end of the tunnel, shouting," Let's get a move on, Mikey!"

"Whoa, dude," Michelangelo exclaims, poking his head out from one of the tunnels," Should we call the guys?"

The red cladded turtle retorts, curling his hand into a fist," We don't need backup. I'm gonna pay those little freaks back in full for the little shell-kickin' they gave me earlier. Hell, I'll even leave a tip!"

"Dude," The orange cladded turtle yells waving his hands frantically," Hold up! Maybe we should take a sec and think about this -"

"Since when do you care about thinkin'? We need to act," Raphael barks back in agitation, grabbing the tails of his brother's mask and dragging him upwards," C'mon! We're gonna lose them!"

"Oh," Michelangelo huffs, slapping off the latter's hand," This does not spark joy, my dude."

There's a chittering down the tunnel as the two mutant turtles skid to a halt as the older of the two raises his fist. The creature hisses lowly as its brightly colored eyes flicker over in their direction before it shifts underneath its cloak and continues wriggling its way down the tunnel. Two more creatures come from two opposite tunnels, forming one straight line as the creatures chitter in unison, their light steps barely imperceptible in the winding, dark tunnels. The three creatures skitter up a ladder, their claws clinking against the rusty metal and the two mutant turtles follow.

Raphael and Michelangelo push aside the manhole just in time to see the three creatures scale a wall with ease and climb in through an open window. The two mutant turtles meet each other's eyes and with a quick nod, they scale the wall until they reach the glass dome-shaped roof peering in curiously. The three creatures are gathered around a wooden pedestal hosting a scroll that has crimson ink scraped over it in a foreign language neither recognize. One reaches forward and curls its fury, pointed fingers round the scroll, furling it closed before holding it high over its head.

"Mavakaa sekulaa nadavaaaa," The creatures chant in unison, their voices animalistic growls and snarls as they paw at the claws clenching onto the scroll, "Mavalaa sekul -"

"Booyakasha," Michelangelo cries out, dropping down from the ceiling with one of his nunchaku drawn," You're not going anywhere with that old paper, dudes!"

Raphael yanks out both of sai, Rowling them expertly in his grip as he growls," Hey, guys. Remember me," He smirks, charging," I know it's hard to forget a handsome mug like this!"

The orange cladded turtle emits a battle cry swinging his fist towards one of the snarling creatures. "Hiya-Whoa," He squeals in horror, as his fist squelches moistly into the thing's face. He groans, shaking his arm frantically and pulls it free with a long trail of warm, sticky sludge that oozes from the thing's mouth," Ew - Ahhh!"

"Hold still so I can hurt you," The red cladded turtle snarls, irritated as the thing evades the blades of his sais with ease. Then his younger brother is thrown into him, making them both soar through the air before slamming into the wall," Damn it, Mikey! I'm not lettin' these things kick my shell again! I'll never hear the end of it -"

"Bro! Duck," Michelangelo calls, rolling onto his side with his grappling hook at the ready," Ha!"

"Nice one, Mikey," Raphael compliments as the scroll is knocked out of the creature's hand and goes tumbling out the window," Now, c'mon! We're gonna get that scroll - !"