Catarina. Born human, mutated turtle.

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By TheBabzilla
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This is the story of Catarina and how she came to be who she is now. Warning, as some parts are a bit dark, but this story will surprise you.

Recalling my past isn't difficult. I remember clearly. Talking about it is another thing, however. Starting from the beginning is going to be rough, but I'll do the best I can.

Picture a family. A father, a mother, an older brother, the age of 6 and a small girl, age 3. Living just outside the city. Things were good, until late fall, early winter. Until mother got sick. She caught pneumonia. At first we thought is was a simple cold, turned into the flu. Father insisted that mother go to the hospital, but she refused. It got worse. So much worse. One night, she wouldn't wake up. I don't really remember much, because my brother and I had been playing outside in the snow, but we came in to find our dad cursing over the phone. Brother had sent me to bed, so, I'm not sure what happened, but I do remember hearing an officer come into the house and introduce himself.

Everything changed after that. Father was different. He took care of us kids, but, somehow it felt like we were ghosts to him most of the time. Days turned into months. Father got worse. He spent his days at work, but he would come home late at night, intoxicated, my brother explained, though I never knew what it really meant.
As time went on, my father went downhill even more, to the point that he didn't even go to work. He would drink most of the day, come home to either yell at my brother or myself, or he would pass out for hours on end. That had become routine for all of us.
However, my brother and I weren't prepared for what was to come on one particularly dark night. Father had been out drinking, as usual, but there was something unusual about him. Maybe he drank more than usual? I'm not sure. Well, he started to yell at us, which of course, was nothing out of the ordinary. We were used to the hurtful things that he said, but nothing could have prepared us for what he said, and did, next.
Father started blaming us. US. His 6 year old son and 3 year old daughter for the death of his wife. Our mother. We were shocked, but stood quietly, hoping that the yelling would end quickly. But it didn't. Next thing, there was shattering of glass, and I felt myself fly through the air. It was a short time, but it felt like forever. I landed against the wall. Or maybe a door. I don't remember, my vision was blurry. I felt something warm against my face, and I couldn't see out of my right eye. I ended up passing out.

When I woke up, I was in the hospital. Our neighbor, a kindly old lady, was there as well. She had heard the commotion, called the police and came over once they arrived. She had been allowed to take my brother and myself so that the police could deal with my father. No sooner had I woken up, I was checked by the nurses, and a doctor came in. I was told that I would be alright, but I wouldn't be able to see out of my right eye anymore. I was permanently blind in that eye. Later, my brother had told me that father had hit the side of my face with his beer bottle.
I didn't react much to this. How would a 3 year old know how to even understand what happened?

After being released from the hospital, my brother had our neighbor take us to our uncle, who lived in the city. However, what my brother didn't say was, he wasn't really our uncle. He was a man named Wolfgang, in his 40's at the time, that owned a dojo. I had seen this dojo before, because we drove past it a lot before everything changed.
Before knocking on the back door, my brother wrote a note on some paper he took from the hospital, and pinned it to my jacket. "Stay here, until someone comes out to get you." Was all my brother said. I remember clinging to my stuffed turtle, Sheldon, whom I always kept with me, and couldn't be without. After pounding on the door a few times, he ran off onto the streets. I had no idea that that was the last time I would see him. For a years, anyway.

I remember crying. Quietly, of course. I was never one to make so much noise as a small child. The door had opened, and I turned to see an old (at least to me!) man with a gray-ish black beard. He looked me over a moment before reaching for the note. It seemed like forever before he nodded to himself, and had me come inside.

Over time, I warmed up to this new person in my life. He treated me kindly, despite my quiet and timid nature. He also taught me things, simple things. Like origami, and how to tend the small zen garden in the back of his dojo. In two years' time, we became closer. I started to open up more. I was more willing to help out around the place. We even cleaned training weapons together.
On my 5th birthday, he announced that he wanted to train me in ninjutsu. Nothing pleased me more than this, because I would often sit in the dojo and watch as Wolfgang would his students. I remember wishing I could be like them, learning the way of the ninja. I readily agreed to his offer, but he cautioned me that it would not be an easy path. Still, I agreed, and soon after, lessons began.

Now, fast forward 10 years. I had become a Genin, and I was taking to my lessons very well. Also, during that time, I been able to grow considerably. I had been able to discover the person I was meant to be. Fun loving, hyper, and even loud. My uncle, as I know called Wolfgang, taught me to value life, live by the day, and take care in the things that I loved. This made school easier. I had been able to make friends easily, and many often came to me for a laugh or two. Even though training ninjutsu was my first love, I grew to love music, comics and video games. I even learned a bit about computers! Typical teen stuff, right? Heck, I even got a job at a comic book store! These things allowed me to be at my happiest.
That happiness, however, was about to come to an end.

Misfortune struck, once again, when the snow fell. I was asked to work until closing one night, even though I wasn't supposed to work at all. Walking down the cold, snowy street, it was quiet. I had my music playing, so I wasn't really paying attention to where I was going. Something felt..off, however. I looked around for a moment, as I had stopped by an alleyway. Peering down the dark way, I thought I saw something. So, I followed my curiosity. Stupid.
A few men dressed in black surrounded me in an instant. Ninja? In New York? I tried to fight them off, and I would have succeeded..if not for their dirty tricks. I remember being hit on the back of the head, then things went to black.

It must have been weeks before I woke up. Before I truly woke up. Upon opening my eyes, I found myself in a cage. I stood up, my legs sore from being in one position for so long. I stumbled toward the side of the cage and grabbed the bars to support myself. However, when I saw my hands, I screamed.
My hands were green. Green, of all colors. I held my hands out before me. Two fingers, one thumb, per hand. I quickly felt my face. My hair was normal, still with long bangs to hide my right eye. No nose? No, I had a nose. It was just..pudgy? I looked down to see that I had two toes on each foot. Also, I had..what was it? My chest and stomach were yellow. I placed a hand on my stomach. A shell. Well, sort of. Plastron, really. I reach around to touch my back. There it was. The shell. I came to realize that I was some sort of turtle. A turtle mutant?
While I going through all of this, some ninja soldiers had approached my cage, along with their master. He handed me some ninja garb and told me that I had work to do. I was beyond confused, but did as he asked, thinking I would get answers.

As we walked, the master asked if I knew my name. I told him. He seemed pleased with my answer. We walked by a room, and I couldn't help but look into it as we passed. It looked like a lab of sorts. Looking upon it, triggered a vision, because next thing I knew, I was in a large glass container with green liquid, a mask over my face. This startled me, and I jumped back. Back in reality, the two ninja that accompanied their master, took hold of me, and led me to a Japanese style resting room. The master told me to relax, and that his daughter would be in to explain things.
While I waited, I laid down on the cot and tried to gather what had happened to me. It seemed like eternity for a woman entered the room. She introduced herself as Karai, daughter of Oroku Saki, the Shredder. I asked why the lab had frightened me so, and she explained that the lab is where I was "born". Karai then explained how Saki took me in when no one else wanted me. Saying that many were frightened of my appearance.

I listened intently to everything the woman said, but it still felt wrong. I felt like I knew better. That I wasn't always like this. I had a life, a different one, but way I couldn't recall it was beyond me.

I spent 3 months with the Foot Clan. During that time, Karai had taken to training me ninjutsu. Again, I felt that something was off, but could not place it. I had also started to have nightmares. Faces that I couldn't name. A man, a woman, now dead, and a young man. What got me most was the girl in my dreams. A human girl. I felt like I knew her.
After being haunted for a month with visions and dreams, I began to ask Karai about them. She would get huffy with me, or flat out bite my head off. I once even asked Master Shredder about them. For that I got a long lecture. He told me that my enemies were sending these visions, enemies that I had yet to meet.
I decided that asking would get me no where. I needed answers, and the only way to get decent ones would be through the Foot's data base. How I remembered my computer lessons, I'll never know. I managed to seen into the lab, where I was supposedly "born", and accessed their files. It took a bit, but I found my file. I sat there, shocked at what I saw, and yet, I kept reading.

Everything I had been told. A lie. They kidnapped me. They mutated me in a bio genetics lab. All for what? To fight an enemy that appeared to be giving Shredder and his clan a hard time.
I browsed through the file to find something, anything, about where I had truly come from. All that was mentioned, however, was the comic book store that I had left from. Good enough. Before I could close out of the file, an alarm went off. It seemed that the building was under attack. The perfect opportunity to escape. And so, I did.

The rest of that year, I spent doing everything I could in my power to find out where I had come from. The desperation of finding out who I really was began to effect me, because the visions at night had increased, and I even got some visions during the day. Mostly, they were events in my life, memories of things I had done. Sometimes with the people I felt to be my parents and sibling, others with that one man whose name I could not place.

Thanks to such a vision, I was able to find the dojo that I had seen so many times at night. Coming to rest on the fire escape, I found myself looking into a room that seemed so far, but so familiar. Looking at the bed, I saw a face that brought a tear to my good eye. Sheldon. That silly, stuffed turtle that I could never be without. Placing my hand on the window, I knew that this was where I belonged. I decided to come back the next night, as it was getting cold and I needed a warm place to sleep.
I left for the junkyard, it not being too far away, and knowing I'd be able to keep the snow off of me for the night.

It's now a year later. I'm 16, and I am dealing with another great loss. My uncle, the man who took me in as his own and trained me in the way of the ninja, is no more. The poor man got caught in the crossfire of a gang war.
What hurts the most is that I didn't have the chance to say good bye. Still, I move on. I take the lessons, both of life and of ninjutsu, and keep them close to my heart. I still try to do as he said, life life by the day and take care to the things I love.
On the days that I want to give up, I look to my friends, both human and mutant, and know I am loved and I am living for something great.

Funny..how life takes a cruel turn..funny, how you can mask the pain, stand up, and shine brightly against the darkness.
The story of Catarina, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle Original Character that I created.

*WARNING* This story is dark, and contains abuse of a 3 year old Catarina. All characters in this story are made of fiction, any relation to real life is coincidental.

I was really unsure of what to do for a background story. I kind of wanted to do two, one on the lighter side to match the Nick series, and a darker one to match the 2003/IDW series. Anyway, here it is, hope you enjoy.


Please leave some feed back! <3
© 2014 - 2021 TheBabzilla
anonymous's avatar
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Shadowkey392's avatar
Not a bad story.
TheBabzilla's avatar
Thankies, I made it for a contest
SpringSunshower's avatar
awww this was so sad/touching and beautifully written! :iconloveloveplz:
TheBabzilla's avatar
Thank you so much!

It is my belief that anyone can overcome the darkest of pasts and make their future brighter! <3
SpringSunshower's avatar
You are most welcome!! 
Yeah totally! I love that overcome the dark past kind of stories! :iconmonkeyloveplz:
TheBabzilla's avatar
I am glad! I'm so afraid people will dislike it for it's darkness. :c
SpringSunshower's avatar
No I'm sure they will love it! After all game of thrones is loved and that story is all kinds of dark lol xD
TheBabzilla's avatar
True true!!
I'm just afraid that it's gonna get reported because of how Catty's father acted towards her at a young age. :c
And yet, there are tons of worse stories out there.
SpringSunshower's avatar
YEah i can see that! but if you put a warning on it (like i think its the mature content button) then there will be no problem for sure!~ :heart:
lol i know that! XD there are some that are way more graphic and sometimes people forget to put the warning thing on them xD 
TheBabzilla's avatar
You know, I thought about that! But then I was afraid that a lot of people would overlook my story because of the sign! ...Because that's what I do. I don't want to look at something that I can't unsee.
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Dominique-Lefalle's avatar
Nicely written.  Interesting background. :) 
anonymous's avatar
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