Rating: PG

Disclaimer: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and all related characters belong to Nickelodeon.

Summary: 'He shivers violently, knowing it isn't from the cold but rather shock.' One turtle wakes to find himself in a bad situation. Exactly 500 words.

The Situation

He comes to his senses frantically gasping with desperate need for breath. Everything feels like it's on fire, every nerve ending pulsing with pure agony in time with his heartbeat. Unable to immediately remember a time without physical torment, he knows instinctively the pain had only surged through him during the last few minutes but it feels more like years. He shivers violently, knowing it isn't from the cold but rather shock.

As his ragged breathing begins to even out, he clenches his eyes tightly closed, mentally preparing himself for what he will see when he finally dares to look. Eventually he blinks his eyes open blearily, everything seeming to swim in and out of focus and he fights the almost overwhelming urge to throw up.

Shakily reaching out, the agonised turtle's hand comes into contact with a solid, chilled, energy barrier. He finds he is surprised as he always figured a forcefield would be warm, instantly repelling whatever touched it. Cautiously he leans against it, pressing his face to the purplish field, hoping for a clear view out.

He freezes, fresh terror welling up through the lingering pain.

There are three other large tubes in his direct view. To his intense relief they are empty.

Whimpering lightly with the movement, he gazes around the energised shaft he is trapped within. He tries to take in every detail, hoping against hope to find some way to get out, any way. There is enough space for him to lay down but not to stretch out and in his misery, he almost gives in to the temptation. Instead he draws from an inner strength he has never really been sure he has and forges on.

The ninja reaches down, fumbling clumsily at his belt only to realise he has nothing. Eyes widen in momentary panic as he desperately searches himself, finding only his mask still in place. Tears threaten, though he refuses to let them fall; unwilling to give his tormentor the satisfaction.

Vision clearing once more, he notices something on the ground within the purple tinged gloom and he scrabbles for it, clutching wildly at the objects and drawing them close; the remains of his pads and belt. The elastic of his pads is no more, only the leather remains and his belt is in pieces where it had previously been stitched together with nylon thread. His weapons are gone. No picks, no shuriken, no shuko spikes within the belt pouches; only torn and ripped fabric.

And he realises just how bad his situation really is and is grateful his brothers don't seem to be here, yet fiercely craves their comforting presence.

Suddenly hearing a muffled sound from behind, he hesitatingly turns and gazes up, yelping in shock as he catches sight of the blank faced, slack eyed stare of one of the heartless aliens he vaguely remembers invading his city only hours earlier; one of those that almost killed his brother...

… before bringing him to this bleak, terrifying place.