The Scariest Place On Earth?
Chapter Sixteen: Voices
The impact was just the jolt needed to bring the flashlight fluttering back to life. Michaelangelo’s panic seized hands fumbled as he attempted to turn the beam on the groaning shape. The light quivered slightly in his grasp, Michaelangelo clamped his eyes tight shut he remained that way for several agonising seconds as the sounds of his own terrified breathing flooded his ears. Cautiously he cracked one eyelid open and focused on his feet. He should be brave, at least brave enough to peak out and see more then his feet, but, what if he saw more then his feet? Blinking back the darkness he opened his eyes and scanned the cold corridor before allowing his gaze to fall upon the form before him.
“Oh crud!” He groaned, soaking in the depressing sight, Raphael lay sprawled on the damp stone flag floor.
Leonardo felt as if he had been walking for hours as he fought back the deadening waves of fatigue. Lumbering down one monotonous passage after another, he couldn’t escape the feeling he’d been travelling in circles ever since he entered this accursed place. He was no closer to finding his brothers nor any closer to finding whatever it was that was toying with them. Manipulating them for its own deformed and twisted pleasure. His heart lurched as his mind drifted back to his brothers. Where were they? Were they safe? Together? Are they being forced, like him to wander this mind-bending labyrinth? What if they were trapped somewhere, waiting for him, in need of his help? He quickened his pace, pushing through the tangled webs of darkness.
Raphael groaned, a sharp pain exploded through his head as he heaved his bruised body off the floor.
“What hit me?” He asked rubbing the large throbbing lump on the side of his head. Michaelangelo glanced at the flashlight in his hand; quickly hiding it behind his back he offered Raphael his free hand. Raphael lent against the wall trying to beat back the white-hot throbs as they pulsated through his skull.
“You okay bro?” Michaelangelo asked tentatively. Anger flashed behind Raphael’s eyes, he grabbed hold of Michaelangelo’s coat. His arms cocked at the elbows, fists up by Michaelangelo’s ears he shook him violently.
“You little shit! I’m going to make this castle’s ghost population increase by one!”
“I thought you didn’t believe in that stuff.” Michaelangelo stuttered out between shakes. Raphael stopped shaking his brother only to glare at him menacingly.
Leonardo stopped; he flicked the flashlight beam up and down the corridor chasing the moon shadows as they danced and leapt away. Had he just heard something? He held his breath as strained to hear. Voices, up ahead? Breaking into a run he thundered down the hall.
Scooting himself along on his bottom Donatello had attempted to put as much distance between himself and the room as possible. Slowly reaching out he snatched up the straps of his tattered backpack. Clutching it close to his chest he scuttled to his feet and fled, stumbling over his own shadow. Voices? Donatello skidded to a halt and looked back down the corridor. It couldn’t be, the acoustics of the castle had to be playing tricks on his mind. There it was again, more distinctive, familiar. Whirling round he raced back towards the swallowing emptiness his coat hems snapping at his ankles as the galloped.
“It was an accident I swear!” Michaelangelo pleaded as Raphael ground his shell hard into the wall. “I thought you was a spook.”
“Do I look dead to you?” Raphael snarled.
“No, no such luck.” Michaelangelo muttered under his breath. Raphael narrowed his eyes.
“What did you just say?”
“I said no thank fuck.”