The Last Of The Three Spirits
Leo looked around, everything was normal. He was in his bed with the duvet neatly over his trembling body, that was a sight he never wanted to see again. Leo sighed and look out a lighter, he grimaced at the sight of the flame; reminding him of Leatherhead or in other words, the ghost of Christmas past. He lit a candle and the warm embrace of the dim light soothes his tense body just a bit. A shadow of Leo's body laid on the wooden ground silently before it began to rise and get thinner. Leo noticed something moving in the corner of his eye and slowly turned to face towards his shadow. The room suddenly became cold and Leo's bed fades away along with the room which turns into a distant black empty space. Leo falls to the empty floor but continued to watch as his shadow become that of a tall man dressed with heavy armour and scars. Leo whimpers as he gets to his knee's in a prayer like gesture.
"Am I in the presence of the ghost of Christmas yet to come?" Leo asked the man that glared down at him. Just the sight of him made Leo want to shred the floor to create some sort of escape.
"You're about to show me shadow's of the things that have not happened but will happen. Is that so, spirit?" Leo's laboured breath was loud, but the phantom man remains silent, keeping a confident stance
"Ghost of the future, I fear you more than any spectre I have seen. But I know your purpose is to do me good. I am prepared to bear you company. Lead on." Leo stood up but the spirit remained motionless once again. Leo works up an inpatient scowl,
"the night is waning fast. It's precious time to me. Lead on, spirit." Leo commanded, out of no where the spirit launches himself at Leo. The turtle staggers back and falls through the floor and he tumbles down a long stone stair way. He lands in a London Square at the feet of three business men, Leo groaned and raised his head to look at the men.
"When did he die?" -man 1
"Bah, last night, I believe. Or sometimes Christmas Day." -man2
"Ha! I thought he'd never die." -man3
"What's he done with his money?" -man2
"Hasn't left it to me. That's I know." -man3
"It is likely to be a cheap funeral. For the life of me, I can't think of anyone who'd want to attend it." -man1
"Haha, I don't mind going... if lunch is provided." -man3
"There! Yes!" -man2
The men laugh, Leo watches with an appalled scowl.
"What a frightful fellow." -man1
The men then depart and vanish away along with passers by and darkness descends. Leo stands, staring into the stair way.
"Get a hold of yourself, Leonardo... you're having a wobbly.." Leo turns away from the stairs and shuffles forward, holding his own hands against his waist. A light casting his shadow on the stair way behind him. Through a light snow fall he peers around the deserted London Square which is illuminated dimly by a solitary street lamp. Behind Leo his shadow morphs into the shape of Christmas yet to come. Looking over his shoulder, Leo notices the Shadow. The shadow raises his hand, steel claws which were wrapped around the ghosts wrist points towards a building where there is a shadow of a horse drawn carriage looms several stories high. The horses come to a stop. One of the horses faces Leo. The head emerges out of the shadows and became a real horses head, its eyes were scarlet red and its body black like ink. It flares and puffs through its nostrils. Leo turns back towards the spirit of Christmas yet to come and his steel claw whips and points at the turtle.
The horses leap high in the air and down onto the floor, as Leo turns to flee Leo's, feet paddle futilely in the slick layer of snow. Leo catches his footing and dashes off swiftly. Behind the pursing horses the carriage skids across a sharp turn, its wheels shooting sparks. The armour covered spirit with a Kuro Kabuto helmet riding the horses grips the reins with one hand. In the other hand he ruthlessly wield a long whip, which caused a crackling purple energy as it rushes down the alley in a wave, suddenly the buildings began to edge closer together. Leo's eyes scan everywhere as he flee's, trying to find a way to escape. Suddenly the spirit swings the whip in circles over his head. Leo had spotted a corner and quickly ran into it. Losing the horses and carriage. As Leo ran down the narrow alley he had ran into, men and woman sprouted from the ground reaching out for him, Leo gasped and dodged each one effortlessly. Suddenly Leo stops short as two men raise up an enormous barrel and pour the ale towards their faces. The men fall over and drop the barrel, sending it bouncing towards Leo. The blue masked terrapin gasped and fell onto his shell, Leo catches the barrel on his feet and spins it, with a strong push he hurls it safely behind him. Leo stood up and spotted the horses and carriage again which were racing down the alley. Leo runs off into a corner and the horse were quick to follow. However the alley narrows further, forcing the driver of the horses to steer one horse ahead of the other.
A powerful whip cracks around Leo with violet energy. A shimmering wave rushes over him and the turtle shrinks in the size of a mouse. Leo was quick and took cover in a sewage pipe. Leo turned back and looked at where he had entered the pipe, watching the horses hooves and the carriage run off. Leo snarled and turns the other way, he began to crawl through the pipe.
"You won't get me in here." Leo panted, he crawled to the other end and looked down. The distance to the pavement below was over twice his current height. Leo wiggles out of the pipe; clinging to the edge with his three fingered hands. He drops and lands on his feet. Letting out a sigh of relief he looks around.
"I'm... I'm on Lime Street." He chuckled, happy to be somewhere he could easily recognise. It was until the horses burst through a window, shattering it as the carriage rounds the corner and approaches Leo. Leo groaned.
"Oh... come now..." he pouted and took off in a run. Moving as fast as his tiny legs could take him. The carriage gains on him and the hooves stomp at a puddle just behind the turtle. And the resulting waves sends Leo flying. He lands on a discarded alcohol bottle as it skids along the street. Leo held on as best he could, feeling his hands slip but regain grip again quickly.
The spirits rough, calloused hands reach down for him, the hand hovers inches in a strain before the bottle crashes into a low sewage crate. The momentum sends Leo between the bars and he slides helplessly down the never ending pipes.
Suddenly the pipe ends and Leonardo's tiny body is sent flying in a snowy patch. The snow forces his tiny body off of the roof and the turtle plummets into a warthog's laundry bag.
"Merry Christmas."
"And happy new year. Come on in."
Leo is rolled onto the floor, his body tangled in some fabric. The turtles dark blue eyes travels and looks at the two men. A warthog was skinny with a purple mohawk and and clothing. Leo then gasped at the sight of the sight of the Rhino wearing Soviet-USSR uniform. Leo wiggled his body to try and escape from the material which wrapped around his body tightly.
The Rhino picked up a material of curtains.
"What do you call these, Bebop?" The rhino asked as he felt the material between his rough fingers.
"What have I said about calling me that? But you wanna know anyway? They are the bed curtains." Bepop laughed.
"You mean to say you took them down while he was lying there?" The Rhino gasped, impressed at the warthogs actions as Bebop laughed and reached down his hands to warm his sore fingers at the fire.
"I do. And why not?" Bebop chuckled.
"You was born to make your fortune and you certainly will do it." The Rhino commented.
"Well I shan't hold back my hand when I get something by it. Just don't get grease on them blankets now." Bebop said.
Leo had now successfully rolled out of the material and stood on his one two feet, watching in shock at the two.
"His blankets?!" The Rhino dropped the blanket he held and it fell on top of Leo.
"Whose else do you think? He won't be feeling the cold without them now, I dare say." Bebop raised a brow.
"Well I hope he didn't die of anything catching." The Rhino growled.
Leo shoved off the blankets with an annoyed grunt.
"Don't you be afeard of that. I ain't so fond of his company that I'd loiter about." Bebop and the rhino laugh.
Leo's eyes travel between the mutant and he spots the shadowy figure behind them. The spirit. Shredder...
"This is the end of it, you see. He frightened everyone away while he was alive. Only to profit us now that he's dead. Oh, if he'd had somebody to look after him he was struck with death, instead of lying there all alone, gasping out his last breath... well, we wouldn't have these things to sell now, would we?" Bebop ranted.
During his little speech the Rhino picked up a fire place poker and raised it above his head, Leo spotted this and turned, seeing a rat there nibbling on a crumb, looking up it drops its food as the poker comes crashing to the floor.
The impact sends the rat and the Turtle off their feet. The rat and turtle regain footing and continue running. The Rhino stomps and swings the poker like a gold club. The impact bends one of the floorboards and the other end springs out and propels Leo flying in the air and towards the spirit. Where the calloused spirits hand snatched him into darkness.
The terrapin then emerges into another room and falls limply onto the floor, the spirits shadow looming over the turtle.
"Spirit! I see! I see!" Leo's body and voice began to grow back to normal. His size returned and his voice no longer pitched.
"The case of this unhappy man who dies, a solitary, lonesome death might be my own. My life tends that way now." He gazes woefully at the spirit. The spirits hands then drifts its down down to the base of the floor and stretches over onto a bed where there laid a thin sheet covered body.
Leo's gaze follows the hand and stumbles back when he seems the body, "merciful heavens! What's this?" Leo's blue eyes seemed to be glued to the body since he failed to notice the spirit circling around the room.
"Spirit, this is a fearful place. When I leave it, I shall not leave its lesson. Trust me. Let's go!" Leo squeezes his eyes shut then woefully opens them, the spirit halts. The spirits finger then began to pull the thin sheet down a few inches, revealing pale green skin on the body.
"I understand. And I would, if I could but I have not the power." Leo's voice trembled. The spirits shadow hand retracts along the bed and across the floor. On the far wall the ghost of Christmas yet to come resumes a commanding stance. The Shredders arms hovering by his sides.
"Spirit, if there is any person who feels emotion caused by this man's death. Show that person to me I beg you." Leo pleaded, hoping someone would be empathetic. The spirit extends a hand and sweeps in a wide arc as it points to a a far wall as a scene opens up frame by black mist. A humbly dressed man enters a furnished home; a woman greets him
"Are we ruined" she asked
"There is hope yet." The man answered.
"Hope? Only if he relents." She gasps
Leo frowned deeply, "let me see some tenderness connected to death. Or this chamber will forever haunt me!" Leo covered his eyes before slowly lowering his hands again when he felt a wooden beam press against his shoulder.
From a stairway he now gazes down at April and her four children remain surrounded around a fire.
"It's late." One of the daughters said.
"Past your father's time." April frowned sorrowfully.
"He's walked slow these last few evenings." One of the sons whimpered.
"Oh, he has walked... with sting Tim on his shoulders... Fast, indeed." April held her own hands, "but he was very light... to carry and... your father loved him so..." She wiped away a tear.
And behind her the front door opens, Donnie enters and his daughter greets him with a hug which he happily gave back.
"You went today, then?" April asked purple masked turtle.
"Yes, my dear." Donnie nodded. "I wish you could have gone... would have done you good to see how green a place it is. You'll see it often." Donnie walks to April and takes her hand as he forces a soft smile. "And I promised him I would walk there every...every Sunday..." Donnie couldn't hold back his tears as he sobbed, "my little child!" He cried.
"Father... please don't be grieved. Please, father." His daughter pleaded, the family hated seeing their father so sad.
"I'm all right, love. I'm quite at peace..." Donnie wiped away a tear.
Watching, Leo clinged onto the banister. "I'm sure none of us will ever forget our poor Tiny Tim." Donnie's heartbroken voice cracked. Leo whimpered at the sight of the grieving family.
Leaving his wife and children, Donnie climbs up the stairs. He stops directly in front of Leo, his tear filled eyes seemed to stare at the turtle. Leo recoils but then leans close, peering into the depressed man's eyes. Donnie shifts his distant gaze, unaware of Leo's presence. "Donnie..." Leo whimpered. He then lunged sideways as Donnie began to walk back up the stairs, however the grieving turtle passes right through Leo. As Donnie reaches the top of the stairs and stumbles into a softly lit room where a small, shadowed figure lies on a bed. Donnie sits beside it and rests his hands on the small body and lets out a sob.
"Spirit... something tells me our parting moment is at hand. Tell me. Who was that man we saw lying dead?" Leo paused. Suddenly the spirit claws at the air behind Leo and in a booming flash of light the stairway crumbles, plummeting through a stormy sky, Leo screams as he lands hard in a graveyard by the raging blizzard. Tumbling along the ground he comes to rest at a gravestone frosted with snow. Leo grimaces as he slowly sits up, and raises himself to stand. Hugging himself across his plastron. The Shadowy ghost of Shredder towers behind him. As Leo turns the spirit sweeps his arm in an abroad arc, pointing at the gravestone.
"Spirit! Before I draw nearer to that stone to which you point, answer me one question!" Leo raised his hands to cover his face from the harsh bitter wind. "Are these the shadows of things that will be? Or shadows of things that may be?" Leo cried out in desperation "men's courses in life foreshadows certain ends. But if these courses are departed from, these ends will change. Isn't that so?" Leo asked.
The wind gets harsher and the ice on the grave stone flies away, showing the name Leonardo Hamato.
"No! No! Am I that man who lay upon the bed?!" Cried Leo. More ice gets swept away and his birthdate is shown, Aug 15 1786. "No. Spirit, hear me!" Leo pleaded. "I'm not the man I was! Why show me this if I'm past all hope? Spirit! Assure me that I may change these shadows you've shown me! Change them by an altered life!" Leo cried.
More ice blows away, showing that he died on Dec 25...
"No spirit! No!" Leo turned and attempted to run away only for his feet to sink into the snow like quick sand. He yanks his knee and pull as hard as he could but he remains stuck. He then sinks deeper and grips onto the snowy floor, he yelped and tried to climb the cold dirt with his feet.
Suddenly he falls in but just manages to grab a root protruding from the dirt wall of the deepening grave. Far below him red light glows around a coffin, the lid of the coffin bursts open, the inside completely empty. Leo lets out a loud howl of terror. The root then hangs lower, breaking under the terrapins weight, causing Leo to panic and hold on tighter. "Spirit! Help me!" Leo cried out, it was his last and only hope. The spirit shows itself however this time without the steel helmet, showing off a bloody and burnt gruesome face, Leo screamed at the sudden reveal and shut his eyes tightly, "Spirt, I will honour Christmas in my heart and try to keep it all the year. I will not shut out the lessons of the past, nor present, nor future. Oh please spirit. Tell me I may sponge away the writing on that stone!" Leo opened his eyes, just in time to watch as the spirits hand raises and cuts off the root, forcing Leo to scream and fall. Turning Leo faces the red glowing coffin as he falls closer. He closed his eyes and raised his arms to protect his face from the fall as he nears the coffin.
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