Raphael turned restlessly. His pain, his anger, these were the things he tried to deal with in the darkness of sleep. He had tried often, and failed often, but he did not give up. And sometimes, in sleep, he could even escape them for a while.
“Raphael?” a feminine voice said, a voice that he knew all too well.
He opened his eyes, knowing he would see no more than he had when they were closed; no light entered his room at night. The others had often razzed him about this; Don once had called him Scrooge, quoting the famous book: “Darkness was cheep, and scrooge liked it.” But Raph didn’t like the darkness for its inexpensiveness; he liked it for what it was. Things were safer in the dark. His fears couldn’t find him as easily.
But when he opened his eyes, he perceived a faint glow. Outlined in that glow was the woman who had often haunted his dreams, with her kinky red hair, her flashing green eyes. Raph felt more for her than he ever dared admit, even to himself. The only place he could was here, in his dreams, where it could do no harm.
She was dressed in a white gown, long and flowing, with a modest neckline, and long flowing sleeves. Her hair was down, just the way he liked it best, and she glided towards him like a phantom.
“Raphael,” she intoned again in her softest tones. She knelt by the bed and ran a hand over his arm.
“Oh, April,” Raph whispered, and buried himself in her embrace. His shoulders shook, and he sobbed softly.
“What is wrong, Rapheal?” she asked, running he hand over the back of his head.
“It. . . hurts,” Rapheal sobbed brokenly.
“Oh, is there pain?” she crooned, petting the top of his head.
“Yes,” Raph whispered, barely audibly.
“Oh Raph,” she sighed, and they sat for a while, Raph silently sobbing. Finally she spoke.
“There is a way to get rid of it, you know,” she said.
Raphael looked up, eyes full of pain, tears staining his cheeks. “How?” he asked.
“Oh, dear, you’re all upset,” she crooned, and wiped Raph’s tears with a corner of her hem.
Raph grabbed her hand and looked in her eyes. “I asked how,” he stated in his more customary tones.
She yanked her arm away and turned her back to him, petulant. “If you’re going to be like that. . .”
“TELL ME,” Raph said in a low, menacing voice.
She turned back to him. “All right, all right,” she said, exasperated. Then her tone changed completely. “Its really not so hard, Raph dear.” Raph noticed that her dress had changed; the neckline was no longer modest by any standard, and it was much tighter than it had been. Instead of attracting him, however, it repelled him. Something was not right with this April. She sat down next to him. “Really not so hard at all,” she crooned, and leaned toward him.
He looked severely at her. “You don’t sound much like yourself tonight, April.”
“I don’t?” she looked amused. “I guess next time I’ll have to study harder for the part.” Her features twisted and changed. Her dress disappeared. Horns grew from her head, and she turned a volcanic red. “Does this suit my personality better, dear Raphael?”
A dangerous look came into Raph’s eye. “The Demoness of the Underworld.”
“Please, call me Vulvanna. Nobody does.”
“Hmmph.”
“I’m surprised you figured that out so quickly! It took the others longer.”
“Others?”
“Oh, you know, all those countless others. . .”
“Yah, I bet.”
“Anyway, Raphael, as I was saying, you could get rid of this pain that plagues you.”
Raphael sneered, “And as I said, HOW?”
“It wouldn’t be that difficult at all. . .”
“I think we’ve gone over that.”
“All you have to do is remove the source.”
“And what is ‘the source’?”
“The source is those other creatures you hang around with. Leonardo, always telling you he’s right, you’re wrong; Donatello, always higher than you,. flaunting his intelligence; Michaelangelo, constantly berating you, putting you down; the rat, perhaps the worst of all, saying he’d be there for you, but never really helping.” She glanced sideways at Raph. “And it would be so easy to remove the pain. . . a knife in the night, four quick splashes of blood. . . then you could go to your precious April, tell her the sad story of how there was a buildup of poisonous gasses in the sewer, how you were the only one to escape. She will take you in, feel sorry for you, and eventually be yours. Then, Raphael, there will be no more pain. No pain at all. You will be happy with your little woman by your side.”
“So simple,” Raph said dully.
“As I said,” Vulvanna agreed, and smiled cruelly.
“But you overlooked something,” Raph said thickly. He stood up and looked at Vulvanna. His hindbrain recognized he was no longer in his room, but instead was in the underworld. A torii stood high behind the demoness. “A big something. I need my pain. How could I ever be happy without my pain to judge it by? I will not give it up, demoness. Even if it comes from my brothers as you say, even if it comes from my master - I will not give it up. I NEED MY PAIN.”
“Then I hope you truly enjoy it,” Vulvanna screamed, enraged. “because that is all you will get here - and here is where you are staying!”
“You think so?” Raphael sneered. Before she could make a move, he darted though the torii, and fell into the abyss beyond.
Vulvanna watched as his form dwindled to a speck.
Rapheal awoke in the darkness, happy.
In the darkness, it plotted.
One left.
It could not fail on this one. Perhaps its mistake had been the deception. They had all seen through it. . . and indeed, Raphael was more receptive after the deception had been dropped. It had been so close. . .
It studied the profile of the last one. Yes, the direct approach was needed here.
It could do it, it decided. It could get to this one before he asked for help. Just do it right.
It laughed, then sat back and waited.