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“Nyahahaha! This year’s Halloween bash shall be most horrifying and awesome!” Michelangelo, perusing a convenience store in all his turtle glory, sniggered. “I just love Halloween. Walking into a store without a trench coat and hat is so freeing.” The orange-banded turtle gleefully filled his shopping cart with candies of many varieties and a few items that will fulfill his tricks for later. Unbeknownst to the young ninja, dark, shadowed figures inched closer to the store, weapons in hand.
Walking up to the counter, Mikey started placing his items on the conveyor belt to be scanned. “Hey, nice turtle costume, friend,” stated the cashier in a yellow vest that was covered in fake blood and has tears on the edges. His face was covered in makeup, intending to pass off as the undead. Mikey grinned wickedly. “Oh thanks, man. Love your whole zombie cashier look.” Just as Mikey finished paying for his treats, the window glass nearest to the register shattered.
The ninja flew over the register and knocked the cashier to the floor, shielding him from the various shards. “Whoa! Who decided to crash the party?”
Mikey sat up on his heels and peered over the register, eyes narrowing upon seeing the signature Purple Dragon tattoo on the vandalizers’ skin. He hated Purple Dragons, especially when they ruined his fun.
One thug with a green Mohawk, supposedly the leader of the group, sneered. “Ain’t Halloween just the best, boys? So much cash and snacks for us while everyone’s out gettin’ stuff for free and dressed like freaks.” The other three with him all made sounds of agreement, spreading out within the store to gather what they wanted.
While their backs were turned, Mikey gazed at his cowering partner. The poor guy was shaking like one of the leaves in Central Park in this weather. “Hey pal… Why don’t you hit the alarm button you have back here and stay hidden? I’ll try to handle these guys and keep them from leaving before the cops arrive, deal?” The man nodded, lifting a panel and pressing the button that would alert the local authorities of trouble.
At that moment, Mikey sprung out from behind the register and plowed into the Dragon closest to him. The bald-headed man made a small grunt and landed with a soft thud. Knowing it was best to use stealth, Mikey jumped and rolled to an empty aisle, keeping his eyes on the three remaining criminals. Noticing that one member was down, a dark-skinned man held out his spiked club in a defensive gesture. “Yo Mo! Eddie’s out over here! Somebody’s attackin’ us!”
The leader growled, his own weapon – a Triceraton blaster – cocked and ready to aim. “Keep an eye out! There’s nowhere this punk can hide for long.” With that, the three conscious Dragons warily checked each aisle. Mikey remained on the move, trying to decide his next course of action without getting caught. The man with the club and the teen with a knife weren’t too intimidating, but the Mohawk guy with the blaster was sure disconcerting.
When the teenager with a knife got close enough, Mikey swept his legs and dragged him into his aisle, quickly knocking the knife away and landing a blow to the back of the head with one of his nunchucks. “Two down, two to go…” He slowly backed away, only to bump into something solid. Startled, he jumped and turned around, lashing out with his nunchucks. There was a crack, and the club wielder fell backward into a movie display.
“Well that was stealthy,” Mikey muttered to himself. Now the last guy, Mo, would definitely know where he was.
The last Dragon chuckled, standing in front of the sea green turtle with the blaster aimed directly at him. “Well, well, well. If it ain’t one of them freaky turtles. You’re the dumb one, ain’t ya?” Mikey clenched the handles of his nunchucks, terrified by the situation he was in, but also maddened by those words.
“Well, excuse me, tough guy. You’ve got it all wrong.” He began to twirl his ‘chucks threateningly. “I’m the special one!” He charged, sloppily dodging the blasts that were fired at him. Mikey was able to land a few hits on Mo, feeling triumph at not getting hit himself, when he landed on top of the guy. It was not a good position to be in, considering it gave the Dragon a perfect target.
“Say goodnight, freak!” There was a sickening sound as flesh was penetrated, blood suddenly gushing out of the wound on the young turtle’s shoulder. He sat there in shock, only snapping out of it when Mo kicked him off onto his shell. “Hmph. You’re still breathing. I’ll fix that.” He aimed the weapon again, only hesitating upon hearing police sirens coming closer.
“Blast! Gotta get outta here! Good luck, greenie.” Mo fled, disappearing down an alley just as the cop cars parked in front of the building. The cashier ran over to Mikey, placing his wadded up vest onto the wound. “J-Just hang in there, friend! We’ll get you some help!”
Mikey knew better. Once the paramedics discovered he wasn’t in a costume, he’d be getting the opposite of help. “S-Sorry… But I have to go.” Grabbing his bags that had fallen, Mikey dashed out through the back door and descended into the sewers. He hoped no one would follow his blood trail.
As the adrenaline started to wear off, Mikey realized how much his shoulder really, really hurt! He kept the vest pressed against it, hoping to stop the flow of blood from leaking out further. He’d already lost so much while lying in the store, his vision was starting to get blurry. “Almost…there…”
Once he entered the secret underground lair, Mikey was greeted by his family and two human friends. Raphael, his most hotheaded brother, clapped him on the shell and laughed. “Nice try, bro. It’s Halloween, so we know to expect tricks from ya. That fake blood’s really convincin’.” Mikey winced, stepping out of his brother’s reach. “B-But Raph…”
“I agree with Raph, Mikey. This isn’t really your style when it comes to pranks. Is it part of whatever your costume is supposed to be? The half-dead half-shell?” His closest in age brother Donatello, the group genius, pitched in.
Mikey shook his head, more to clear the dots in his eyes than to disagree. Leonardo, the oldest and leader of the team, placed a hand on his good shoulder. “They’re just playing with you, Mikey. We’re just impressed by your theatrical skills.”
“Not…” The youngest cleared his throat, eyes watering slightly from the pain ricocheting though him. “Not a… joke… R-Real blo-blood…” He staggered, limbs growing weak and limp. “P-Purple… Drag…” He didn’t get to finish his sentence, cyan blue eyes rolling black into his head as he collapsed.
Leo, closest to him, caught him before he could hit the floor. “Mikey!”
***
All he could hear was distorted voices, no light or understanding of where he was. Mikey grunted, subtly cracking open his eyes to take in his surroundings. Over to the left corner he could see Donnie writing down in some notebook. Shifting his eyes, he then saw Leo and Raph arguing over something. He mentally rolled his eyes. ‘As usual.’ There was a soft warmth on his forehead, which caused him to look up and see the whiskers of his beloved father and Sensei, Master Splinter.
The wise rat smiled, gently dabbing the wet cloth along his fevered forehead. “It is good to see you awake, my son.” Suddenly, Mikey’s cot was surrounded by his three older brothers, each wearing a look of worry and guilt.
Donnie spoke up first. “How are you feeling, Mikey? You gave us quite a scare.” Mikey licked his dry lips, whispering, “Th-Thirsty…” Immediately, a glass of water was in front of him, lightly pressed to his lips. With the help of his father, Mikey sat up enough to gingerly sip some of the refreshingly cool drink. “Easy, my son. Not too quickly.”
Once Mikey had enough, he laid back down and winced. A gasp left his mouth and he brought his right arm up to his left shoulder. He could feel crisp bandages and, when he looked, he could see that he had bled through them already. Eyes brimming with unshed tears, Mikey turned away from the injury, only to meet the golden eyes of his red-banded brother.
“Mike… Mikey… Chuckle head. I… We… Sorry for not realizin’ you were actually hurt, bro. We seriously thought it was a Halloween prank.” The sai-wielder looked to the ground, his three-fingered hands balling into tight fists.
Leo spoke next, a strain evident in his voice. “We’ve all been beyond worried, Mikey. None of us knew what to do once you passed out, until Donnie got into his ‘psycho doctor mode’ and we brought you here. I am personally sorry for being that close to you and not recognizing the seriousness of the situation.”
Mikey smiled weakly, waving his hand dismissively. “S’what I get for…for all the pranks over the years… ‘specially on Halloween.” Leo’s shoulders sagged, a sigh of relief barely audible as a weight lifted off of him. The others relaxed as well, apologizing for the lapse in judgment.
“So what happened, Mikey? All you said was Purple Drag, then you lost consciousness. How’d you get hurt like that?” Donnie was by his side, questioning eyes glancing him over. The younger turtle sighed, telling them all about his trip to the store with his cashier friend, the Purple Dragon attack, and the narrow escape.
Raph growled, pounding a fist into his open hand. “Stupid Purple Dragons and their stupid alien weapons. Wait ‘til I get my hands on ‘em! I’ll stuff that blaster so far up-“
“Raphael!” Master Splinter cut him off. “Vengeance is not our way, as I have told you time after time. Your brother is home safe, that is what matters.” The old rat placed a paw on his emerald green son’s bicep. “Be glad that we did not lose Michelangelo to his injury, my son. It could have ended much differently, especially if he had not pushed himself to get here before fainting.”
Looking down, Raph nodded. “Yes, Master Splinter.” He then turned his gaze to Mikey. “Make sure ya get better, little bro. It won’t be as fun at practice without ya.” Raph smiled then left the lab, heading off to his punching bag.
Leo walked up and rubbed Mikey’s head. “Brave, reckless little Mikey. What are we going to do with you?” Mikey giggled quietly, looking up at his oldest brother. “You’re gonna do a bunch of stuff to take care of me until I get better?”
Chuckling, Leo lightly noogied Mikey’s head. “Sure Mikey. Whatever you want.” He then tenderly kissed the younger’s forehead and exited the lab, making his way to the television array. Mikey turned his head toward Donnie, who was busying himself with changing Mikey’s bandages. The grim expression on his face brought a frown to Mikey’s.
Master Splinter, having noticed himself, stood and nodded to Mikey. “I shall make you some tea to help with the pain you are undoubtedly feeling.” With that, he left the room, leaving the two brothers alone. Mikey watched Donnie work, waiting for him to talk if he wanted to. After a few minutes, the silence was broken.
“It won’t happen again.” Startled, Mikey glanced at Donnie, trying to catch his gaze and failing. Seeing his brother’s confusion and surprise, Donnie heaved a sigh and looked at his only younger brother. “I’m the resident medic, and therefore responsible for any injuries or illnesses you guys get. By not seeing your serious injury and distress, I made the situation so much more dangerous. You could have died from blood loss or infection or-”
Mikey raised a hand to stop him, carefully sitting up to be more at eye level. “Dude, it’s not your fault… It’s the classic tale of the turtle who cried injury. You guys didn’t know it was real because I usually pull those kinds of jokes on you. I don’t blame you for this, so please don’t blame yourself.”
Donnie’s eyes became glassy, his olive green arms wrapping around the smaller of the two’s shell. Mikey didn’t hesitate and hugged back, hardly noticing the twinge in his shoulder at the movement. The two stayed like that for what seemed like eternity, drawing on one another’s strength as the gravity of their night of tricks and treats bore down on them.
Mikey loved Halloween. What’s not to love? Treats, tricks, and family pulling together. There was nothing he could think of that beat this.