Author's Note: This is a darker tale than 'm used to doing, but considering the time of year, I thought it apropos. This is a world where lives have taken a different course, good men have gone bad, and four damaged teen mutants have been raised by a cruel, uncaring father to terrorize New York by night as thieves, assassins, and saboteurs. And only the man who calls himself The Shredder- together with his team of mutant soldiers and a stranded alien inventor- can end their reign of evil...

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Some Other World

Oruku Saki brought his wakizashi up to block a slice from the blade in his opponent's left hand, and blocked the other katana with the claws of his gauntlet. The mutant named Leonardo growled menacingly, and slashed again with both blades. Saki spun aside, kicking out at the turtle's right arm. He followed with a thrust from his wakizashi, hoping to catch the monster off guard. Leonardo leaned backward to avoid the blade, his katanas deftly flicking down to force his enemy's weapon toward the ground.

"You'll have to do better than that, Shredder," taunted the mutant clan's leader in an infuriatingly calm voice. Saki grimaced under the face plate of his helmet, annoyed by the arrogance of the adolescent reptile. "You've failed- again. You're never going to stop us. We WILL win."

"Don't be so certain, mutant!" Saki roared in response, ducking low into a leg-sweep that took the turtle's feet from under him.

Leonardo fell back onto his shell, one sword falling from his grip. Saki pounced, but the mutant was too quick, and rolled away before he could deliver the final blow. He came to his feet in a flash, snatching his blade from the floor. He looked around, suddenly realizing that his fellow turtles were losing the battle. The one named Michelangelo was pinned beneath Rocksteady, the former gang-banger turned mutant rhino; for once the jokester was unable to make any of his grating quips. Donatello was still busy fending off the attacks of the mentally-unbalanced fly-mutant Baxter Stockman, which meant he WASN'T downloading the data they had come for. And Raphael was struggling against the combined strength of the half-warthog Bebop- Rocksteady's partner- and the half-witted Slash, a larger and stronger turtle than the four terrapin ninjas.

"Time to regroup, boys! Looks like the mission is a wash." The leader called to his companions, falling back toward the elevator shaft they had used to reach the 35th floor office of a pharmaceutical company's head research scientist. The bo-wielding turtle slipped one hand into a pouch on his belt, and drew out a small round object. He tossed it down, and thick smoke billowed up, blinding and choking both Baxter and Rocksteady, who was suddenly hit by a sucker punch from the pinned orange-banded ninja. He slid across the floor between Rocksteady's feet, punching up again- this time at the coughing rhino's groin, making him roar in pain- before he flipped back up to his feet and rushed to join his "brothers" at the shaft.

"How's THAT for a parting shot?" The snarky mutant joked, sticking out his tongue and holding one hand up with his thumb against his snout and fingers wiggling in a rude gesture as he hopped down into the open shaft after Donatello. His blue-clad companion waited until all three had gone, before he turned to regard Saki for a moment, his eyes cold and narrow.

"This isn't finished, Shredder. You may have won this round, but the war is FAR from over." Leonardo said flatly, that irksome tone in his voice again. No matter how many times they failed to destroy their hated foe, he never seemed to lose his calm, cool demeanor. Saki would have been impressed by the young mutant's determination and patience, if he hadn't been the subject of the monster's hatred.

"No, it is NOT. But I will rid the world of you abominations, make no mistake," Saki replied, forcing himself not to give in to his own rage. He watched as the leader slid his blades back into their sheaths, before leaping down after his clan-mates. He heard the tell-tale snort and scratch of claws on the floor that indicated Slash was about to charge after, and held up one hand to forestall the lumbering brute. Slash was dim-witted, but had his uses. But now was not the time. "Let them go. We will have another chance." He shook his head and sighed softly. One day- and very soon, no doubt- he WOULD finally destroy them, AND their cunning master. Even so, he deeply regretted the necessity.

But that would have to wait. For now, at least he and his loyal recruits had kept the cold-blooded teens from getting what they had come for. He didn't know exactly what they had been searching for, but he knew that it must be something of great value. If he hadn't had his strongest soldiers with him tonight, they would have gotten their hands on formulae for any number of drugs, poisons, or who-only-knew what. And knowing that sneaky rodent they called a sensei, there was no telling what use they might put them to. Saki beckoned his warriors to follow him as he took a second elevator down to their waiting transport module in the basement. No doubt the turtles were already on their way to their secret sewer lair to report their failure to the rat. He could not bring himself to call him by his true name. The mutant who was once the man Hamato Yoshi now called himself Splinter. His only real consolation was that Splinter would NOT be pleased, and would surely punish them severely. It was no less than they deserved.

They slipped through the hidden door to their underground lair silently, hoping their sensei would not sense their return. Leonardo kept his head down, knowing that he would be the one most severely punished once their failure was known. And that was as it should be- he was the most disciplined, the most responsible; his brothers grudgingly acknowledged him as their leader. Scars of past punishments marked his arms, legs, and even his head; he had more scars from his father's ire than he did from all the battles he'd ever fought. For that matter, so did his brothers. He tried to protect them as much as he could, but Splinter was prone to bouts of rage, often taking his anger out on his four "sons".

Sometimes Leonardo wondered what their life would have been like if someone else had found and raised them. Not that he minded their way of life. Far from it- he enjoyed slinking like living shadows through the city, hunting their prey. The thrill of the hunt and the exhilaration of the kill were what he lived for. That moment when the quarry realized that death had arrived, or that moment when a successful theft was carried out, those were the things that excited him most.

His brothers enjoyed it too- each in his own way, and each for his own reasons. Donatello loved nothing better than to hack some security system or bank account, playing havoc with people's personal or financial lives. Raphael liked pummeling his targets into the ground, giving free reign to his bloodlust by tearing them to pieces. Michelangelo was…. Leonardo frowned, recalling his "youngest" sibling's disturbing habit of "playing" with his prey. He liked games, particularly when his opponent had no chance of winning. He would hunt them down like animals, often giving them a head start just to instill false hope, and then when the game was over, he liked to torment them mercilessly before the end.

It was even worse when the target was a woman. Though never one to deny his brothers their little pleasures, Leonardo sometimes felt sickened by the things his brothers did to them. They never lasted long. Most ended up as bloody, broken pieces of meat by the time the mutants were finished with them.

"BOYS!" The rat's harsh voice echoed through the lair, rolling like thunder from one end to the other. All four teens cringed at the sound; their sensei's wrath was the only thing they truly feared, and with good reason. In his former life, Hamato Yoshi had been feared and respected as the long-time leader of the Ashi no Kuran, the ninja organization better known as the Foot Clan. The clan had long been spoken of only in whispers, for they were deadly assassins, spies, thieves, and saboteurs.

"BU-STED," Mikey muttered softly; his brothers all turned to glare at him with menacing expressions. Raph even went as far as to punch his shoulder and curl his lips in an angry glower. They all knew what their sensei's yell meant. They couldn't hide their shame from him for long, and when he discovered that they had failed their mission, it would not go well for them. The last time, he had forced them to remain awake for four days straight while practicing their kattas, without food. To add to the humiliation, they had only been allowed to relieve themselves in a bucket, and had been given very little water. By the end of their punishment, they had all been so hungry and exhausted that they had promptly scarfed down four entire extra large pizzas, and had then passed out for more than twenty-four hours. Splinter's punishments were always harsh.

Four heads bowed low as Splinter entered the room, his beady black eyes glittering coldly in the light. Though they thought of him as their father and mentor, they still felt fear every time they were in his presence. They feared almost nothing- except his anger, for it was often violent and harsh. All four stared at the floor in front of them, unwilling to be the first to admit their defeat. Waiting for what they knew would come.

"I see you have returned safely. That is good. Leonardo, report! Do you have the data we were hired to steal?" The once-human rat asked, stroking the long fur on his chin as he watched his four "sons" closely. Though he had raised them as his own, they were little more than a means to an end. He had trained them, molded them into the perfect assassins and thieves, capable of getting into or out of almost any stronghold to reach their target. And the best part was that due to their very strangeness, they had little choice but to obey. The isolation and secrecy of their existence made honing them into skilled fighters and infiltrators easy. Even their natural animal instincts worked in his favor. They were cold-blooded killers, in every sense.

The blue-banded teen hesitated; he could feel his brothers crowding close behind him. Raphael was closest, standing just behind his left shoulder. The other two tried to hide behind the living wall the two eldest formed, for all the good it would do them. He knew better than to keep their sensei waiting, but he feared what Splinter would do to them once he knew of their latest failure.

"H-hai, Sensei. We- we were unable to extract the files from the Ima-Gen Inc. computers. We met with strong resistance, and were forced to retreat. We were unprepared for such opposition- the fault is mine. F-forgive us, Master." Leonardo bowed low, keeping his eyes on the floor, shame churning in his gut. He knew the blow was coming even before it landed, yet to try to avoid it would bring even worse punishment. The sound of the old rat-man's hand striking his snout was like a gun-shot in the silence of the room. Leonardo was knocked sideways by the force of the slap, but he didn't dare get up yet. That would only set him off more.

"Unacceptable! You were trained to deal with ANY situation, no matter how difficult! There can be NO excuse for this defeat! Idiots!" Splinter roared at them- and any hope they might have had of getting off lightly vanished. Things were about to turn ugly.

Leo felt a hand on his arm, helping him up. He waved it off, not wanting to appear weak in front of their father. Father. That word burned in his mouth like acid, bitter and sharp. He hated that word. If he had the courage for it, he might be tempted to kill their cruel mentor while he slept, just as he had taught them to do to so many others. But he couldn't. The instinct to obey was ingrained so deep in his mind that even entertaining such thoughts made him feel like a traitor and a disgrace. That had been the first lesson, learned even before they could speak. They owed their survival to him, and their loyalty. He was the reason they were able to remain hidden from the world, and the reason they were the best at what they did. And what they did was destroy lives.

Long ago, the Foot Clan had been in the employ of some of the most powerful noble families in Japan. As time went by and the world changed, the clan had remained much the same, though some of their methods had evolved. Hamato Yoshi had seen the benefit of joining forces with underworld factions such as the Yakuza- in secret, of course- to advance the clan's power and influence. Even after the unfortunate accident that had left him horribly transformed and saddled with four infant humanoid reptiles, he had kept his ties with his former "business associates". But he had lost his hold on the Foot when his rival and student, Oruku Saki, had challenged him and won. Under Saki, the Foot had severed its connections to the criminal element, and had instead turned to doing undercover work for law enforcement, as well as espionage and extraction for the government.

In other words, Saki had turned them into "do-gooders" and protectors of the people. In the end, the entire clan had chosen to follow Saki over their former Master, and now his only students were the four pathetic freaks who had just brought news of yet another failure. Yoshi had been humiliated by his defeat at the hands of his own student, and now his new students had proven incapable of completing a simple mission. It was disgraceful.

"B-but i-it wasn't our fault, Sensei!" Mikey blurted out, causing all eyes to suddenly focus on him. "That goody-two-shoes Shredder was waiting for us when we got there! A-and he had his brute-squad with him! We couldn't even get close to the computers to get the files!" He heard Donatello groan and face-palm beside him, and Raph flashed him a dirty look that promised a severe beating later. Leonardo just sighed and shook his head, realizing that his baby brother had just made things ten times worse.

"That is NO excuse!" Splinter snarled, baring his teeth at them. "I took you in, raised you as my own; I trained you to FIGHT, to know how to defeat your enemies, and THIS is how you repay me?! With FAILURE?! You four are fortunate that I did not leave you to die as infant freaks as some would have done, or sell you to some circus or research laboratory. Yet you continually disappoint me!"

Leonardo braced for the second slap; he knew he deserved it for failing their mission. He heard grunts of pain from his brothers, saw the two younger ones stumble and fall to their knees, and knew they had been struck as well. Raph stubbornly remained standing, refusing to let their "father" see any weakness. He was always trying to prove his strength. He let out a low growl, which Leo stifled with an elbow to his calf.

Mikey wasn't so lucky. His outburst had had earned him the hardest hit, and when he was on the floor, Splinter kicked the youngest in his snout, causing him to yelp. That seemed to set the old rat-man off even more. He flew into a rage, punching and kicking all of them by turns until they cowered on the floor with their arms and legs pulled tight under their bodies, their heads tucked into their shells in a feeble attempt to protect themselves.

Eventually, Splinter's rage burned itself out, and he ceased beating them- though mainly because he had worn himself out, and he was no longer a young, fit individual. He bent over, panting from his efforts, and then straightened slowly, his dignity reasserting itself. "I will give you one more chance. You will return to Ima-Gen tomorrow night, and finish the mission. If you fail me again, I will do as I should have done all those years ago, and tear you all to pieces! This is your LAST chance!" He snarled, his tail lashing wildly, before he turned and stalked out of the room to return to his private sanctum. The rice-paper screen slammed closed behind him, making it clear that they were on their own. They had never been allowed inside his room, for any reason. It was forbidden territory.

"That's it," Raph muttered angrily after they were certain he had gone. "We're toast if we screw up again. I say we get da' fuck outta' here and don't look back. I'm sick of bein' smacked around all da' time."

"And where are we going to go?" Leo finally said, getting up. "There's nowhere else. We don't have a choice. You heard what he said. If we fail again, we're as good as dead."

"There's always April's place," Raph suggested. Michelangelo was still on the floor, whimpering in pain. He'd gotten it the worst, as usual. Perhaps it was his apparent laziness and lack of intelligence compared to his brothers that the rat hated, or the fact that he had always been undisciplined and wild. Donatello was hurt badly, too, but he had remained stoically silent, accepting his punishment almost submissively. Though he wasn't as strong as his brothers, he was smart enough not to draw their father's attention to himself. That trait had saved him from the most brutal of Splinter's punishments on several occasions.

"No, Raph, that's the FIRST place he'd look. We can't go there. We suck it up, and finish what we started. That's all there is to it." Don said at last. As always, he was the voice of logic and practicality. Leo nodded agreement. At times, he hated what they did; not so much the actual deeds, but the purpose. It felt hollow, somehow. Dishonorable. They were forever barred from being part of the world above, so why should they concern themselves with the affairs of humans at all? They received no rewards for their hard work and risk, except the occasional gifts from their "father" for a job well done. But lately, those had been far too few. And he sometimes felt that there was no sport or honor in what they did. No point to it. Yet what choice did they have? It was the only life they knew. The only future they could expect.

At that moment, they heard the distinctive sound of someone turning the wheel of the hatch into their home. Michelangelo shot to his feet in an instant, and they whirled toward the sound as one, weapons drawn. Their alarm was short-lived, as a familiar face peeked around the edge of the door. "Is it safe to come in? Where is Splinter?" The tall, attractive red-head asked as she entered. They relaxed, putting their weapons away as they realized it was only their only human associate and ally, April O'Neal.

"Oh, hi, April. Yeah, it's safe- for now. He's back in his room" Donatello said, sounding relieved.

April was the one human they knew they could trust- for a simple reason. Splinter had seen to that, using mind-bending herbs and hypnotism to mentally influence her, placing powerful suggestions into her mind to remain loyal to them, and to do anything they asked of her. In other words, she was now a willing slave to their needs, brainwashed to believe the mutants were her closest friends, and to keep their existence a secret forever, even if it meant sacrificing her own life. The four teenaged males turned to each other with wicked grins, for her visits always meant they could enjoy a rare indulgence in spending "quality time" with a female. It was one of the few privileges their father allowed.

Michelangelo looked at her with an almost creepy come-hither expression, and hobbled over to her, draping one arm casually around her waist, in spite of the fact that she was fifteen years older, and seemed to cringe slightly at his touch. April didn't know why, but something about her young friends always made her vaguely uncomfortable. Maybe it was the way she simply couldn't say no to anything they wanted, no matter how bizarre or disturbing. In any case, the youngest was the one who always seemed to have the most unsettling requests, and he rarely hesitated to try to monopolize her attention. She glanced around anxiously; of all the mutants, the one she eared most was Splinter.

"Hello, Sweet-cheeks!" Mikey cooed, reaching down to tweak her rear. She stiffened, but said nothing. She knew that if she protested, he would make her pay for it later by doing something even worse. And from the way he was buzzing around her already, she had a sinking feeling he already had one of his "games" planned. As much as she cared about the boys- heaven only knew why- she hated their idea of "fun". More often than not, it proved humiliating and painful. Yet she couldn't keep from coming back, no matter how creepy or unhealthy their hobbies were.

He led her back toward his room with an excited babble about having acquired a few new toys, and how anxious he was to show them to her. Leonardo raised a brow-ridge at his sibling's display of blatant sexual appetite; he knew what his brother meant, and shuddered at the thought of what he had in mind. He sighed and shook his head in disgust, then he turned away to enter the dojo to meditate. It was his only real escape these days- escape from the pain, the emptiness, and the gnawing feeling that they had been meant for better things than this….