Slash's Revenge

Chapter 28 - Worst Fears

*Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise.

*Author's Notes: Here's chapter 28 of 'Slash's Revenge' and it's a dramatic one, just like I pointed out in the last chapter.

Thank you all so very much for reading. I'm super grateful to each and every one of you. *virtual hugs*

Okay, onto the chapter!

CJ

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Chapter 28 – Worst Fears

A silent scream was stuck inside his throat, as though his voice box had decided to call it a night without his say-so. Mouth hanging wide open in a desperate attempt to take in precious oxygen that just wouldn't come, the distraught turtle stared down at the bed in utter disbelief. His hands were trembling like fragile leaves clinging to a tree. His heart was beating so hard, he was pretty sure he could actually see it banging against his plastron. He worried the thick scutes covering his upper body weren't enough to contain the vital organ thumping out of control inside his chest.

To say that he was terrified would've been putting it mildly.

Panic was overriding every one of his senses, to the point that his entire body had temporarily shut down on him. He couldn't even shake his head in denial. None of his limbs would respond to his simple commands to move, paralyzed with dread. All he could do was continue to tremble and blankly stare at the disheveled bed sheets while he gasped for air that didn't seem to exist.

The same three words kept repeating in his brain, like a badly scratched record, skipping over and over again...

This isn't real!

This isn't real!

His wide eyes scanned the room, frantically searching for someone who wasn't there.

This isn't real!

This!

Isn't!

Real!

He couldn't trust what he was seeing – or rather, what he wasn't seeing.

It appeared to be just him and the shadows, but he knew better.

He had to be there, hidden somewhere inside the dimly lit room.

He had to be.

When the frightened turtle was finally able to draw in a much-needed breath, the first thing he attempted to do was cry for help, but all that came out was a sickly sounding wheeze. His voice still refused to cooperate.

Maybe that's because, deep down inside, he knew if he made any kind of noise, he was going to get pummeled within an inch of his life.

Breaking out into a cold sweat, his oversized eyes combed the room, once again, only to confirm he was, in fact, all alone.

No!

This can't be happening!

I was only gone a couple minutes!

But the startling truth remained: the youngest turtle had managed to lose his brother. His unconscious, critically injured brother whom he had been specifically placed in charge of watching over.

Breath coming in hysterical gasps, Mikey took a giant step backwards, as if afraid of the empty bed before him.

His brother was gone.