The story is simple. It follows the turtles as each one meets a creature of the dark that plays on what they feel is their strongest points in life. Strength, love, ability in ones mind, or happiness. The creatures slowly tear your down until you are nothing. This will adapt more later on as the chapters get more advanced.

chapter one: Michelangelo's fate

No distinction, no depth to the black that had developed around them. No pain, no blood, and not even was their death in this cavern of metal. It was as if, to some degree, their only hope had been sucked out and replaced with something that seemed to stand there slightly twitching. They didn't recognize it, didn't even see it until that moment, that night.

The youngest had been the first to feel it, but brushed it off swiftly as a glare from his brothers, his instincts clashing with his brain. A small down fall for him as it was to the others. A small fight that had been over rules because nothing could harm them in their home, not a thing standing in the dark that they had never noticed before... never heard screaming... never felt touch their skin with an ice chill... 'I want to be free, I want to go back, I don't want to be here any longer'.

The youngest, Michelangelo, had suffered first by the creatures. It just seemed, at first, a cold from the sewers had come and taken a disliking to the cold reptilian blood of his body. Michelangelo, stricken suddenly with a flu, had violently been thrown into bed his cough growing worse as his smile faded with each wrecking hacking that gripped his chest and though he still failed to see it Mikey could now catch small flickers as it walked around the room, swirling across the floor as if dancing. To him it had been beautiful until he had seen the eyes that had, at one time, turned to look at him.

They were shining empty sockets that seemed to hold the look that they saw with sight of a normal human. It would come near him when it seemed to feel that Michelangelo had indeed 'felt' its presence whispering, 'I hate it, I hate this... Every day, so happy, so cheerful. It drags what remains of my ragged tattered heart through the filth of humans... Let me leave, let me go... LET me be seen!' and it would vanish making the feverish one think it all a dream until it returned more furious than even a feral animal when those thoughts rushed his brain.

The time passed before Michelangelo had his health again, the thoughts of the thing quickly pushed to the back of his mind though at times the frozen touch of fingers grazing his shoulders, the soft nearly gibbering words that seemed to make no sense would pull at his brain from nowhere. Michelangelo had caught his families looks when he'd turn looking at the darkest spots in the lair as if there was someone or something trying to reach out to him and to them... It was strange but he allowed the feelings to pass through him before he vanquished them with a small smile before it grew as he started again with whatever he had paused for. To them, they thought it might have been something they just never realized that he had done but...

"Are you okay?" they had came into the room just as he said this to the pitch black kitchen, he had failed to turn on the lights. "You keep saying things... what are they?"

'I'm doing this...' they couldn't hear the words but each of them walked over to the youngest seeming worried as he had turned slightly to look at them, his eyes once a vibrant blue now seeming to be faded but even though they seemed less than alive, less than turtle, they shone through the dark that what was not even normal for irises.

Their fear became real as they pulled their brother back into the light, a dark glance to the shadows made their scales shiver with a small speck of reality as they slowly pieced their brothers' unusual reactions together. There was something here living with them that seemed to have 'taken' a liking to the the youngest turtle, Michelangelo.

"Michelangelo?" the old eyes so understanding were hidden with grief as they glanced upon the youngest body tilted to look in the direction of the unlit areas where the candle flickered seeming to pull away from some entity. "My son, what is there that you see? Tell me so that I m-."

The smile, so thin, crept upon Michelangelo's face as he looked at the old wise rat, a smile that didn't even twitch any sort of life into his eyes. A short lived pull of muscles that was more like an unusual habitual twitch before it vanished and his eyes once more diverted to the shadows. It was nearly as if something had caused it to happen, causing him to do things which were highly distorted for such a rambunctious child.

'I detest you, disgusting, vile trash!' Michelangelo smiled at the words to the creature, 'You turn my bones to slithering snakes, make my flaking flesh peel like a rash... death... I wish you death, so much blood, pain... stop smiling! STOP! SMILING!'