Once itself the liquid echo,
Now opaque and unresponding,
Ice is all.
-Selection from Ice is All by Louise Townsend Nicholl
The door to the den burst open, banging loudly on the wall, nearly ripping from its hinges. Leo’s katana seemed to miraculously appear in his hands as he stood up and faced the figure in the doorway, agility of both habit and circumstance giving him an almost unnatural speed.
“what do you want?” he growled.
Angelo, hair hanging in tangles over his burning eyes, turned to Leo. His face was a mask of pure emotions, a frothing, burning jumble of rage and terror. “where is the rat?” his voice was hoarse. Leo noticed a crushed piece of paper in one of his hands.
“why? What’s going on? Where’s Donnie?”
Angelo snarled at him, but strode forward. Immediately, raph was standing in front of him, a sai cocked at his chest. “I don’t think so, buddy.”
Angelo’s free hand clamped in a cold, vice-like grip onto raph’s neck. Raph made strangled sounds of surprise as his feet left the floor, and his face was pulled to within an inch of the vampire’s. cold, scentless breath blew over his face. The eyes he looked into were wild, as if cold flames burned behind the wide irises.
“what has happened?” Splinter’s voice cut through the tension like a knife.
Raph was released, and tumbled, gasping, to the floor.
Angelo strode over to the rat, who, even standing before someone nearly twice his height, maintained an aura of regal calm, reluctant to betray the sudden icy feeling that enclosed his heart at the sight of the vampire’s face.
“Donatello is gone.” Angelo thrust the piece of paper toward Splinter.
“what the hell did you do to him? Where is he?” Leo’s voice cracked as he yelled.
Angelo spun around, red-tinted froth beginning to show at the edges of his mouth, “do you think I would be fucking standing here, fucking talking to you if I knew where he fucking was?!” he practically screamed.
Raph, recovering quickly, stood up and strode to the vampire, thrusting his face as close to the other’s as he could get, evenly meeting Angelo’s wild eyes with his own piercing stare, “if he’s hurt… if he’s hurt in any way, I don’t care how old or powerful you are, I’ll fucking kill you. I’ll hunt you around the globe if I have to, but I’ll kill you.”
Angelo’s steady stare faltered for a moment. he took a step back, as if, against all likelihood, he was afraid.
“what’s going on?” Mikey walked in the door, followed closely by April. They both stopped over the threshold and stared at the proceedings dumbly.
“Donatello has been taken…” all eyes turned to Splinter, who was slowly lowering himself into a chair, his eyes staring ahead of him, the note clutched in his fingers.
“kidnapped,” Said Angelo, managing to regain his lost composure, as he turned to Mikey and April, “by the same person whose been murdering those allies of the U.U.V.A..”
Splinter held out the note toward April, who moved forward and took it. at first glance, she recognized the scrawled handwriting from the wall of the latest murder, which she had invenstigated, then came to inform the turtles of it. the message, “killing is our nature”, had been written in blood on the wall above the drained body of a lawyer at a prestigious firm.
Her eyes flicked over the letters, unnoticing the three turtles reading over her shoulder.
Dearest and respected Angelo,
you know who I am, and you know what I want. I have him, and I will not release him. You will return to me, if you wish to see this one again. Drink of my blood, and eat of my flesh. We will be one, again. Even if the strange one’s life must be the sacrifice to appease god, to absolve you of what you’ve become. If you are not too far gone, you will find me. I will wait for you…
she sighed and handed the note back to Splinter. “there was another murder
last night. I just came from the scene. It looks like this guy is centered
around a certain area. Business district.”
“what was the victim’s name?” asked Angelo.
“do you know this woman?” asked Splinter.
“yeah. She was the organizer of the human sections of New York’s U.U.V.A. chapter. Her brother is a vampire.”
“perhaps you should tell us who this murderer is, and how you know him.”
Angelo turned to Splinter. He sighed and looked at the floor. He then looked up and seated himself opposite Splinter. “His name is Claude. I met him in 1845. He was… different then. I’d never met anyone like him. He was an artist and a dreamer. He saw things differently. It was like he could see to the heart of something without even trying.” Angelo leaned his elbows on his knees, staring at the floor as if it might tell him that he need not go on. “I spent about a year with him, hiding what I was. Finally, I told him. He’d had his suspicions, all I did was confirm them. I told him that I couldn’t bear to watch him waste away while I remained young and alive. I told him I would leave… unless he wanted to join me… join me in immortality.” Angelo trailed off, his eyes unfocused. When Leo was about to say something, he continued, “for a little while, it was perfect. We were together, we traveled, we saw the world. But then… he changed… it was as if the moment he realized what power he could wield, it corrupted him. *I* corrupted him. From his new station, he stopped seeing humans as people, and saw them as insects. As life forms too low to bother with worrying about their life or death. I suppose it was less real malice as it was… indifference. He saw humans the same way humans see ants. Do you feel guilty if you step on one?”
“but… he *was* a human once…” Leo tried to work out such a train of thought in his head, “how could he stop seeing them like people?”
“I guess he realized that they were people, and that they’re deaths would cause grief… but… it didn’t matter to him anymore. That’s what makes a vampire into a murderer. When they lose all awareness of what it is to be a human. Then, their conscience doesn’t extend that far.”
“Wait,” said Leo, “if you’re older than this guy, aren’t you more powerful? I mean, it’s not like my knowlage of vampires is extensive, but I kinda assumed…”
Angelo nodded, “I thought someone was bound to ask that. The truth is, I’m not sure how it happened. I should have been able to sense him coming, especially since he’s someone who was so close to me for such a long time. I should have sensed it. only a very powerful vampire would be able to completely shield himself from other vampires’ ‘mental radars’, so to speak. Somehow, he acquired such power as to be able to do that.”
“how could he come by such power?” Splinter asked.
“powers like that can be bestowed upon a less powerful vampire from a master vampire.”
“like the girl, kali?”
“yeah. I have a feeling that Claude was helped along by a certain master vampire, known by the cute nickname of ‘Lucifer’. He and kali have been enemies since long before my time. it’s never been clear to me why. I think if Lucifer had any oppertunity to get at Kali, even indirectly by targeting her children, he would do it in an instant. He would have nothing to lose by giving Claude these kinds of powers, and winning his loyalty.”
The room was silent after Angelo finished, each with there own thoughts. Raphael finally stood up, “you fucking asshole. Donnie could be killed because of you.”
Surprisingly, Mikey spoke in Angelo’s defense: “look, it’s not like he wanted this, raph.”
“oh, so now you’re on his side? Now you want to get friendly with someone who, for all we know, could be working with this murderer?”
Angelo glared at raphael, but said nothing.
“fuck that.” Growled raph, “April, you said these murders are centered around the north end? Well, I’m not gonna sit on my ass while Donnie’s out there. I’m leaving.”
“do you really think you have a chance against Claude?” Angelo sneered at raph.
“I think I have a better chance at beating him than I would with you at my back.” raph opened the door, stepped out and slammed it behind him.
Wordlessly, Leo gave Mikey a hard look, and followed raph out.
The room was once again silent. Mikey sighed and finally spoke, “look, I don’t know where Donnie is, or how powerful this Claude guy is, or even if my instincts on this matter are accurate, or going to get me killed. But, I feel in my gut that you… you care about Donnie,”
Angelo raised his eyes to meet Mikey’s.
“I think that you’re the one whose most likely to find him, and be able to help him, though my brothers don’t agree. I just want to do what’s best for Donnie.” Mikey stood up and walked toward Angelo, finally stopping in front of where the vampire sat, “what do I have to do?”
Angelo looked at Mikey, studying his determined expression. He gave a half-smile and stood up. “get your weapons and follow me.
April leaned toward Splinter, whispering her concern in his ear, “do you really think it’s safe for Mikey to be around this guy?”
Splinter shook his head, “I don’t know what to think, child. I don’t know what to think.”
Donnie opened his eyes. A swell of pain engulfed his head. He moaned, and closed his eyes. He opened them again and took in his surroundings as his vision came into focus. It looked like he was in some sort of empty storeroom, or warehouse. The room was large, with large windows at intervals, through which reached precious little light from the streetlamps below. Large, square columns held up the ceiling. Gradually, Donnie realized that he was sitting up against one of them. he groaned and tried to lean forward. He found that he couldn’t move. Momentary panic siezed him. He twisted his wrists and found that they were secured behind the column on which he leaned. The cord was strong and tight, biting into his flesh. Another bound his neck to the column, almost choking him.
“so, the little tart is awake…” a singsong voice came from behind him, “I did you over well, I think, you’ve been out for more than 12 hours.”
“w-who the hell are you?” Donnie craned his neck, the cord chafing his skin, to see the speaker.
“I’m the one who’s going to bring justice to the underground society. I’m the one who will give them penance. I will hear their confessions. And you will cleanse them of their evil deeds.”
Suddenly, a face thrust itself into Donnie’s. The turtle’s breath caught as rank air was blown over his face.
“I am Claude.” His hair was dark brown, cropped short, close to his head. He had high cheekbones and a square chin. His eyes were an intense, icy blue, so empty and devoid of anything that Donnie could begin to relate to or understand, he gasped in shock.
“what do you want with me?” Donnie was all too aware that his voice shook as he spoke.
Claude delicately bit his bottom lip, and ran his long-nailed fingers down Donnie’s shoulders and over his biceps. “oh, it’s not you I want. Not really…”
“Angelo…” Donnie breathed. “you’re trying to lure Angelo here.”
Claude patted the top of Donnie’s head, as he would an obedient dog, “clever boy, you deserve and ice cream.” To Donnie’s immense relief, Claude stood up and strolled over to a table, on which lay a disturbing assortment of weapons, as well as several unused syringes and two empty wineglasses. It didn’t take a brain like Donnie’s to figure out what they were intended to contain.
“y-you can’t win, you know. My brothers… they’ll find you.” Donnie stuck out his chin in defiance, “they’ll kill you.”
“oh, come now,” Claude removed a hunting knife with a cruelly curved blade, which glistened with razor-sharpness, “you don’t really believe that, do you? foolish mortal, with my increased powers, I can see inside your thoughts… your desires…” he stood before Donnie, and knelt, “I know how it would just tear you apart to see your first lover drain the life from you.” he rested the tip of the blade lightly on Donnie’s shoulder “poor… poor boy” he drew the knife savagely down Donnie’s shoulder, leaving a long slash which extended down his bicep. Drops of blood began to well in the cut and slowly make their painstaking way down his arm.
Donnie bit his lip to keep from crying out. The knife came down again, biting into his leg. A strangled, pained moan escaped his throat.
“how do you lure someone in denial out of his self-destructive personal fairyland and into the reality of his existence and the merging of his past and his future into one, godly, ecstatic present?”
“you draw blood…” Donnie half-sobbed the words as he realized what lay in store for him.
“How do you know he’s there?” Mikey whispered, as he looked at the building in question, though he had no difficulty believing that the shabby building on the waterfront, adjacent to a garbage dump, housed Angelo’s formidable enemy.
“Claude is no fool,” Angelo replied, crouching next to Mikey on the rooftop the next block over, “he centered his killings around the north end on purpose, to lead you and your family off the right track. He wants anyone who might interfere with him out of the way.”
“is there any danger for them?”
“he might post a few flunkies up there to keep their attention occupied, but if they deal with minor-class, dime-a-dozen underground social climbers the same way you three dealt with me those weeks ago…” he gave Mikey a reassuring smile that somehow looked out of place on his features, “they’ll be just fine.”
Mikey nodded, then turned back to the dark building, “so, what’s the plan?”
Angelo sighed, “the plan is: I go in. alone. You wait outside the door. I take care of Claude, you rush in and get Donnie out of there when I call you.”
“waaaaiiiiit a second, you want me to just wait around while that guy uses Donnie to get to you? I don’t think so. No way. You distract the bad dude, I rush Donnie out. You eliminate him. You leave. We meet back at the O.K. corral and everything is hunky-dorey.”
“no. everything is not hunky-dorey. If you go in there, he’ll kill you. there’s no distracting this guy, his powers exceed my own, and even I would be able to handle that with a minimum of difficulty. No, we’re on his turf. This is his game. We play by his rules.”
“what if he wins?”
Angelo said nothing, the silence unsettling them both with mutual uncertainty.
“what if he hurts Donnie?”
“if hurting your brother was on his agenda, he’s already done that.” Angelo decided against telling Mikey of the faint whiff of blood he caught on the breeze, or of the passing sound of a heartbeat, like the tones of a distant drummer being carried on the wind.
“what if he kills him?”
“he won’t. he’s an impulsive bastard, but he knows that Donnie is useless to him dead.”
“alright. Let’s go.” Mikey started forward.
Angelo put a hand on his shoulder before the ninja could leap to the next building, “remember, you wait outside until I call your name. No matter what you hear, or how bad it sounds, don’t come in. understand?”
“one more thing. Thanks.”
Mikey allowed himself a half-smile, before the odd pair was covering the rest of the rooftops between themselves and their goal.
“knock knock…” whispered Claude, as he stared at the door, a blood-covered knife clutched I his fingers.
The door flew open, banging against the wall. Angelo slammed it closed behind him and strode confidently into the room, “Claude, don’t you think you should know better than to-“ He staggered back, as the full force of what lay, bound before him, hit him like a hot, red tidal wave. He reached out his hand to steady himself on a column. He shook his head, strands hair falling from his ponytail to hang in his face. He opened his eyes and looked at Donnie. The shape was almost indiscernible underneath the blood. It ran from semi-deep cuts on his head, arms, legs, sides and neck. The gag thrust into his mouth and tied behind his head was already soaked through, appearing as if even his mouth was bleeding. His eyes were half-closed and unfocused. He didn’t move.
“I’ve prepared a present for you, my own. Just the way you like it: young and fresh. Isn’t that right?”
Angelo edged back, pressing his back against the wall, as far from Donnie as he could get. his eyes fixated upon the turtle. His heart, pumping with borrowed-blood, sped up. Although he didn’t need breath, his chest rapidly rose and fell as he filled his lungs, in an attempt to gather his strength.
“marvelous, isn’t he? I think I’ve begun to see what you see in him. He’s cute when he’s bleeding…” Claude crouched next to Donnie and planted a light, almost chaste kiss on his bloodied cheek.
“let him go.” Angelo’s voice commanded an authority that he didn’t feel. He had expected that Donnie would be “prepared” for him, but he hadn’t been prepared for the pure amount of blood that was suddenly presented to him. He felt as if a long claw had gripped his mind, and was pulling him toward his temptation. To give in would mean a veritable paradise: ecstasy, pleasure, satiation, an endless instant of suddenly becoming everything one possibly could. To resist was pain, pure and endless, pounding, pulling, wrenching the core of his very heart.
“let him go?” Claude smirked and stood up, gestureing at Donnie’s prone form, “come let him go yourself. I won’t stop you. simply come over here and cut his bonds, I’ll even give you this knife to do it with. Come on. No one likes a pushover.”
Angelo stared at Donnie, his eyes wide and wild with terror. He pressed his lips together, to prevent his tongue from hungrily licking them.
Claude hunkered down once more. He slipped his arm around Donnie’s sticky shoulders and slowly ran his tongue up the side of Donnie’s face. The turtle blinked and shuddered, his head moving ever so slightly as far away from the vampire’s grinning face as he could get. “aren’t you curious?” Claude murmered to him.
Donnie managed a growl.
“you see that pitiful, cowering heap over there?” Said Claude, in the tone of a friend revealing a wonderful secret, “what do you suppose he’s afraid of? Why doesn’t he come over and cut you loose, hmm?”
slowly, Donnie’s eyes rotated to look at his tormentor.
Claude spoke to Donnie, his lips brushing the turtles skin, but looked at Angelo the whole while. “because,” the voice was barely above a whisper, yet filled the empty space in the room, “it’s not me he’s afraid of. Oh no. it’s you.”
An indiscernible sound escaped Donnie’s throat.
“that’s right. you see,” Claude turned back to Donnie, his tone light and conversational, “the closer he gets to you, the more difficult it is for him to resist this divine blood of yours. If he comes any closer, he’ll have to give in to the monster within. He’ll have to kill you. it’s not a matter of choice. He hasn’t fed yet tonight, so the temptation is simply… overwhelming…” Claude stood up and stepped toward Angelo. “do it.” he hissed, “take his life. Give in to what you know is right.” he thrust his face an inch from Angelo’s. his voice became a tense, excited whisper, quivering with suppressed anticipation, “he is the sacrifice? Don’t you see? All is forgiven, once he dies. His blood is the currency that will pay our way into heaven. He will die for our sins, and we will once again be pure beings, pure in our lust for blood and evil. Take him, Angelo, make love to him if you must, but take his life… for us…”
Angelo met Claude’s eyes. Behind them burned a cold light, one that pierced him to the core. It seemed like a millennia since he’d seen warmth behind those eyes. His gaze shifted back to where Donnie slumped against the column. His blood… it was so sweet… like the best of wines. He could see himself wrapping Donatello in a warm embrace, taking away all the pain of his existence as an exile, let the darkness of death enfold him, and keep him safe forever… isn’t that what he was supposed to do? Keep safe the ones he cared about?
He took an unsteady step forward. Then another. He hardly felt his feet make contact with the cold floor before he was kneeling before Donnie. The scent of the blood surrounded him, enfolded him, as if it were its own separate entity, begging to be consumed. With fingers that trembled slightly, he reached up and untied the gag, and removed it from Donnie’s mouth.
“what say you?” he whispered, running his fingers lightly across Donnie’s lips.
With obvious difficulty, Donnie raised his head to look at Angelo. He opened his mouth, and only a light rasp came out. He coughed painfully, then spoke, his voice hoarse, grating through his throat, “I… I don’t… I don’t want to die, Angelo…” tears stung the corners of his eyes as he realized that the edges of his vision were already darkening, “I’m not ready… I can’t die with… without seeing them… one more time…” the tears finally freed themselves and ran down his cheeks, turning red with blood as they made their meandering way toward his chin, “I havn’t said goodbye… I havn’t told them that I love them… I need to see my family, Angelo…” a sob ripped from his throat as Angelo lowered his head, and he felt the sharp prick on his neck as the vampire’s fangs made a fresh wound. “Please don’t… please don’t kill me…” Donnie whispered as he felt his blood slowly leaving him, and the cold embrace he was held in slowly become warmer. His eyelids fluttered, begging him to close them. he forced himself to stay awake, even those dark corners of his vision began to spread. So concentrated was he on staying awake that he barely realized it when Angelo stopped feeding.
Through his failing eyes, he saw the vampire stand up, and face Claude.
“drink of my blood and eat of my flesh…” the latter smirked.
Angelo, his skin once more a healthy tan, a spark of fire behind the pupils of his eyes, strode forward, “you know what, Claude?” he stopped, his nose almost touching the other’s.
“what is it, lover?” Claude grinned back.
“you really do have a feeble grasp of the bible…” his lips peeled back to reveal his teeth, catching what little light entered the room. In a blur of motion, his head darted forward, and those teeth sunk into the flesh of Claude’s face.
Claude screamed in shock and rage, bracing his hands against Angelo’s chest and pushing out. Angelo flew across the room, his teeth trailing bits of muscle. He impacted with one of the columns, which cracked in the middle, almost buckling.
Claude, the bare bone of his skull visible beneath the flesh of his face, rushed to the table, picking up an stoppered flask. He tore off the cork, his crazy grin made all the more greusome by the blood spattered across his face, “I never come unprepared, lover!” he cackled, his voice cracking. He darted forward, before Angelo could react, and flung the clear, liquid contents of the flask toward Angelo. The vampire screamed and clutched the side of his face and neck where the liquid touched him. The skin blistered and smoked.
“how divine are you, Angelo? How can an angel despise the pureness of holy water?”
Angelo stood, taking his hands from his face, revealing the scorched, red, ragged flesh beneath. He roared wordlessly and flew forward. His hands connected with Claude’s stomach. He growled as he tore at the soft, vulnerable flesh. Claude screeched and grabbed his knife, plunging it into Angelo’s back, and drawing it downward. Angelo reached up, grabbing the front of Claude’s throat. He drew himself upward until their faces were level. Claude continued to screech and claw at Angelo’s chest. “Next time,” Angelo growled, “send me a ‘thinking of you’ card!”
his hand convulsed around the flesh of Claude’s throat. He tore his hand away with a wet ripping sound, followed by a snap.
Claude’s eyes widened until there was a full circle of white around the ice blue irises. He gurlged, his hands clawing at the space his adam’s apple once occupied. He fell to his knees.
Angelo lunged forward one last time, plunging his free hand into the chest of his former lover. He ripped it out, his fist closed around a blood-covered muscle.
“MichealAngelo. You can come in now.”
Mikey cautiously pushed the door open. In the opressive silence, the hinges creaked slightly. Angelo stood over the bloody, motionless body of Claude, two unfamiliar objects clutched in his hands. It took Mikey a moment to realize that the oblong shape, trailing tubes was a crushed heart, and the long, limp tube was the dead vampire’s esophagus.
Mikey fell to his knees and retched. He stood up, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. Angelo neither spoke nor moved as Mikey walked past him. The turtle reached the still form of his brother, forcing down his tears, for Donnie’s sake. He reached out his hand to press his fingers against Donnie’s throat, searching for his big brother’s slowing, hollow heartbeat.
Donnie moaned, his head lolling to one side. His entire body felt heavy, as if his limbs were filled with lead. He felt a cool hand brush his brow, and gently lay a cool terrycloth on it. his eyes fluttered open. Angelo’s face came into view. The vampire smiled gently.
“what… I thought I was…” Donnie rasped.
“I’m truly sorry, but it was the only way I could save you. Without having fed, I didn’t stand a chance against Claude, the one who captured you. By feeding on your blood, I was at my peak strength. I’m sorry I had to bring you to death’s door. I didn’t mean to go that far.”
“what happened to… him…?”
“what happened to your face?”
Angelo patted his healing cheek lightly with his palm, “oh, ‘tis nothing, I got hit with a little holy water, nothing I can’t handle, really. I just hope it doesn’t leave a mark. Holy water can to horrors to a vampire’s complexion.”
Donnie smiled weakly. “why did you risk so much for me?” he whispered.
Angelo kissed him on the forehead, “you’re just too cute to let go.”
“that’s not… that’s…” Donnie’s eyes began to get heavy once more.
“rest. You need to get your strength back.”
“I don’ wanna…” Donnie’s words trailed off as he closed his eyes and slipped into a deep sleep.
Angelo stood and exited Donnie’s small space, cramped with machines and random inventions, that passed as his room.
Mikey lounged beside the doorway. “so,” he said as Angelo passed him, falling in step with the vampire, “why *did* you risk going up against such a force to save Donnie? I mean, you could have split the entire scene without a scratch, and got away clean.”
“I couldn’t have done that. It’s the craziest thing, but I’ve fallen in love with your big brother, can you believe it?” Angelo chuckled as if he found the fact immensely amusing.
Mikey looked at him, his head cocked to one side, “yeah. I can believe that.”
Several days later, Donnie finally came all the way awake and aware, feeling strong enough to walk about unaided. That morning, before Mikey came in to present his breakfast with the usual flourish of a napkin and a couple verses from “the barber of Seville”, he stood up, shakily at first, wrapped a blanket around his thin shoulders and, steadying himself on the wall, walked into the living room.
Leo looked up sharply from the sofa as he heard Donnie’s footsteps. He dropped his newspaper and rushed over, “hey, Donnie, what’re you doing up? You should be resting.” Despite his scolding, he gently led Donnie to the sofa and sat him down.
“I’m almost better, Leo. Give me a few more days and I’ll be running this town!”
Leo laughed, more in relief than anything else, and Splinter, walking into the room followed by raph, smiled. “I see our patient has returned to the living.” Splinter said, seating himself on the other side of Donnie.
“hey, who’s for muffins? Donnie!” Mikey exclaimed as he strode in, wearing an apron that proclaimed ‘kiss the cook’, with an oven mitt on each hand.
“how’re ya feelin’ dude?”
“like I’ve been beaten all over with a sledgehammer. But aside from that, I’m okay.”
“coolness. Muffins anyone?”
Murmurs of assent came from all directions. “right-o!” Mikey scrambled back into the kitchen to retrieve breakfast.
“I’ve got to admit that I came out here with an ulterior motive.” Donnie sighed. “no one has told me yet what happened to Angelo. So tell me already.”
Raph’s expression became decidedly dark. “who cares?” he muttered.
“Angelo left the evening after… after he and Mike brought you back. He said he’d call to check up on you, but we havn’t heard from him since.”
“did he say where he was going?”
“no. he took a late flight out of the New York International Airport. That was a week ago.”
Donnie nodded wordlessly, disappointment sinking into his gut “so, you’ve heard nothing?”
“I wouldn’t say that.” Mikey walked in, a plate of steaming muffins in his hands. he set it on the coffee table, then reached his hand into the apron pocked and withdrew an envelope. “This came for you yesterday.” he met raph and Leo’s accusing stares “look, don’t tell me you guys wouldn’t try to read it if you knew…”
Donnie quickly grabbed the envelope, eagerly tearing it open. His eyes traveled from side to side as he read the text. He smiled, “Angelo’s in Europe. London, to be exact. He’s touring the continent with Kali and another one of her children. He says he’ll call sometime.”
“are you looking forward to that call?” Mikey asked him, softly, his tone gently implying Donnie of the consequence such an interaction might have with the members of their family who had difficulty accepting the who, what and why of Donnie’s situation.
Donnie met Mike’s eyes, unwaveringly, “yes. I am. Whatever it means.”
Note: okay, here’s the deal: I have a story still in the pre-production stage, so to speak. It will take place between 6 months and a year after this one. It’s a horror story, centering on Raph. This is my dilemma: I’m thinking of bringing Angelo back as a semi-lead character in that one. It would be a less prominent role than he had in this one, but it would be an important one. I’d like to know if you, the readers who would like to read this upcoming story, would like to see Angelo return. I’d like to know if you’re sick of him, or if you’d like to see him some more. Either post your opinions in a review or email me (firstname.lastname@example.org). I would really appreciate the input, because I’m terribly indecisive, and I can’t make these kind of decisions without input. Thanks!! Hope you enjoyed the show!!