I'm mostly used to writing horror, but this kind of came to mind.
I guess it can be considered "horror"? Maybe?
Note; I know, it's probably not very well written.
I'll probably wind up rewriting it at a later - much later - date. I've got other fanfictions I need to finish.
In case you're confused, it's based off the song "Secret of Survival" sung by the Weasles from The Wind In the Willows.
Decepticon Secrets of Survival
It was programed into all sparklings who were raised to become Decepticon warriors. The Autobots were ruthless, but their sparks were soft, a flaw that would one day be their downfall. There sat a Decepticon hopeful, not yet given a designation. He gazed out at the barren scape of Cybertron, war had not been kind to this planet. Then again, what war ever was?
He stood, and began his decent towards the Testing Area, it was all he needed to pass before he became a Decepticon. His mouth twisted into a sneer as he turned over everything he learned up to that point in his processor. In whole, it wasn't much, basic combat skills, along with any training in what your specialty was. Seekers were given areal formations; Spies taught how to not make a sound; Medics were scarce, so they had to fend for themselves, but most seemed to be able to handle themselves. Anything and everything else was learned through experience.
This mech was unique, in a sense. While most Decepticons had dark color schemes and were rather bulky, relying mostly on brute strength, he was sleek and had a light gray coloration. He was also agile enough to give a Seeker a run for their Energon. Bright crimson optics fell on the Testing Area and the hopeful stopped, bowing before his two proctors.
"Are you prepared?" One asked, gazing down on him with a stoic look.
"Yes." the hopeful spoke keeping his head down. The two nodded.
"Then go. Prove yourself worthy for working under Lord Megatron's name." the proctors took a step aside, and allowed the hopeful entry.
Inside, the structure was almost like a labyrinth, corridors twisted, turned and lead to more corridors, walls, doors and, in some cases, a sudden drop. The hopeful had expected nothing less. Some traps still had the sparkless shells of previous hopefuls that had been less than smart. He knelt down next to one and gave it a look over. He pulled the blaster from the shell's rusted digits, having to rip some of them from the servo. He held up the blaster, figuring it would serve it's purpose up until he left this Pit.
A sudden sound was heard, and the hopeful turned his head. A shadow shifted on the edge of his vision. Tensing, he stalked forward, prepared to shoot if necessary. He pressed his frame against the wall and tentatively edged himself and peered around the corner. He saw it. Something huge, and picking at a shell of, from what he could deduce, a femme. He frowned, his processor trying to place what this creature was. He had heard stories of a creature who survived off Cybertronians, craving the taste of sparks and fear. Their vision was poor, but they were quick, and had fantastic hearing.
The hopeful carefully drew back and took a different path. He would deal with the monstrosity when the time arose, but for now he had one goal: the exit. He had to keep his processor clear of any distractions, that was the only way he would survive.
The hopeful hadn't ran across the creature again, or the exit for that matter. He began to consider back tracking and trying again as he opened a door, only to find a wall. In agrivation he punched the wall, causing a dent. The sound resonated down the corridor, and a groan followed. The hopeful froze, turning his head ever-so-slightly to the source of the sound. That creature - What in the name of Primus was it called? - was stalking towards him. It's eyes were black, sunken deep into it's skin. A long snout and two sets of jaws, each equipped with three rows of sharp teeth. Logic told him to run, but training told him to be still and keep his vocals silent.
Now you see me, now you won't, he reasoned. The creature was right in front of him, it's eyes boring into his, nose quivering and jaws dripping with saliva. It's body was huge, covered in large quills and fur. Four feet ended with sharp, black claws. It growled leaning forward it's mouths open, anticipating a meal. The hopeful slowly raised his salvaged blaster and stuck it in the creature's mouth. It tasted the metal and let loose a high-pitched scream. Circuits flared, and the hopeful fired. The energy shot through the creature, and escaped out it's back. It gagged, spazmed and fell. Dark purple blood began to pool around it's corpse.
Don't go walk into battle if you aren't prepared, he sneered and stepped over the body. He would get out, no problem. He shouldered his blaster, knowing he'd have to salvage another from the next shell he came across. His footfalls echoed down the hall, and made sure to remind him he was in danger as long as he was in this area. He allowed hot air to escape his vents in a sigh. He stopped and listened, he could hear scrambling, and knew he'd have to face another creature if he wasn't careful.
Now you hear me, now you won't. Shifting his weight, the hopeful began to walk, silence was all that was heard. The creature seemed to have given up and stalked elsewhere. The hopeful smiled, if he kept this up, he'd be home free.
No one's gonna look after me. I've got to look after myself. He stopped and looked around. He had found the exit - and it was across a small herd of those creatures. He scowled, and began to reason. I can take them out, but that'll increase my chance of offlining to 99.998%. There had to be another way. His processor took in his surroundings. There was just enough space that he could possibly slip through them. Doing so would bring his chances of offlining to only 65%. It was still a gamble, but a much smarter one. We have a winner.
He slipped around the creatures, taking care to not touch them. Once he accidentally brushed up against one. It jumped up, snarling. He had froze, making sure to not move an inch. It sniffed around, saliva pooling at it's feet. First you felt me, now you can't. It moved it's head, then laid back down. The hopeful remained still until he was certain it was asleep before pressing on. Almost there. This would be tricky, for there were three creatures clustered together. There was very little moving room. He looked at them, frowning.
Something's off, he looked back at the group he had maneuvered through. They were spread out, refusing to touch one another. These three were practically piled on top of each other. Perhaps, he decided, they aren't real? He shrugged off his empty blaster and, after a moment's pause, poked the middle creature. The blaster phased through. Grinning he walked through the hologram and walked out the exit.
On the other side, the proctors were waiting. Seeing him, they smiled.
"Congratulations. Now, for your final test," the hopeful frowned, "Tell us what you've learned."
Easy. The hopeful straightened.
"The Secrets of Survival. Know when to be quiet, to be still." the proctors nodded. "No bot will there to help you. You will be on your own. Know how to fool your enemies and never drop your guard." The proctors smiled. "It's a very nasty world out there, Ghoststream, but I feel you are ready."
Ghoststream smiled and bowed. "Thank you."