I do not own Transformers, and this is a short story that takes place from the Transformers: Exodus book.
Warning: This contains bloody literature and suicide. Reader discretion is advised.
...Read and Enjoy...
There he sat, a little drone in the mist of an intense battle. His hands gripped his gun tightly in fear, shaking and trembling in his spot as the noise of gunfire went off all around him. The battle zone was dark, only to be lit up by a few fiery explosions that blew apart his comrades, sending Energon blood to rain down and splatter over his red armor, creating a purple glow. Pieces of metal from his body fell all around him, sparking and bleeding out and sent chills down the drone's body in horror. He winced and shut his optics as he heard yet another one of friends scream in agony.
"Primus, don't let me die this way!" he heard, and a sudden CRACK make him shake, and the screaming silenced. His nerves pulsed over and over as he kept scanning who was online. Only three of his comrades were left. Three out of fifty.
He was a small drone, one of the smallest in his ranks as a mere soldier, once a petty bot who scrubbed floors at the Iacon Hall Of Records as part of the low caste. Now he was hiding behind a piece of metal debris that had fallen off a near-by building as a soldier. He closed his optics as he heard yet another terrifying scream before he sensed the soldier go offline.
"Help me Primus, help me." he whimpered out, curling up as he heard lasers and bullets fly. That was all he could hear, was the noise of gun fire. He was so young, still a young mech who never saw more than polished floors and flashing of gun fire. His optics looked up to see the skies filled with smoke and stars that mixed together in a sorrowful gloom. Tall buildings were set to fire and jets blended in with shadows of the sky.
His gears tightened as he heard the orders of the enemy leader and jet engines fly over head. He was so small against them, he had no chance, now it was just him and his last comrade.
The knowledge of knowing that you were going to die was excruciating, and knowing that no one was going to help you out of this was even worse. No re-enforcements were going to come, no hope of killing off your enemies by yourself, because it was two against Primus knows how many others. How many were there still fighting? Ten, fifty, a hundred? The little drone didn't know, all he knew is that he wasn't going to last much longer. He held his gun tightly to his chest, listening to his last comrade scream and wail in sheer pain before hearing the noise of ripping metal. They had torn the soldier into pieces! He then went offline and the little drone pressed his body against the metal, feeling his spark race in pure fear and angst. He was next to go, he was next to die, he was next to return to Primus. His spark ached as it struggled to keep him from stasis, and gasped, whimpered, nearly cried when he heard hard footsteps come closer and closer his way behind the metal. His hand left dents in the gun while the other dug into the ground. He shook uncontrollably, unable to stop his whimpers when the footsteps became louder and louder, pounding inside his head like the beats of a heavy hammer.
"Oh Primus, oh Primus save me. Save me, don't let me die." He was so scared and so vulnerable, he feared death, he was clueless of what awaited him. The anxiety was too much to handle, the pain of hearing your friends dieing was too horrible to withstand, and the feeling of anticipation of your own death coming you way was all too real. There were too many feelings to consider, too many to count. He couldn't think straight when his mind became a fog and his nerves became numb from the sheer stress and weight of worry on his shoulders.
His optics looked side to side, fearing to move his head, fearing to even utter out a cry. The foot steps kept beat with the pulses of his spark that was close to bursting out of his chest.
Oh dear Primus, if he was caught, his death would be so painful, they would torture the last survivor to death, they would make him suffer and give no mercy. He's seen it before, he's heard about it, and now he was about to witness it first hand. No, he couldn't bare the thought of what they would do to him, a nameless bot who now wanted nothing but a nameless death. A quick death to end the tension that rose on his poor frame. No, he would not be taken by them, never!
The foot steps became even louder as they finally approached him, stopping and all was silent. The little drone did not dare look up, staring at his feet and he felt his spark miss a pulse at the moment the footsteps seized. The very presence of the being behind him froze him in his place like the chill of Unicron's breath. He closed his optics and lunged away from the metal that had protected him up until this point. His legs barely stopped shaking for him to propel himself off the ground as he flew away from his spot. He rolled head-over-heals and quickly stood to his feet, seeing what had haunted him in his dreams for as long as he could remember. He remembered those fiery red optics in past battles that now flashed before him. His whole life, from a sparkling until now flashed in an instant when he saw the leader's evil grin. His gears tightened up again as he trembled, knees nearly buckling beneath him. His hands shook from horror, and his circuits sparked painfully from anxiety. He wasn't going down this way, he wasn't going to feel pain when he died, he was ready.
His hand that held his gun gripped the trigger firmly as he whispered in a shaky voice.
"You will never have this pleasure."
He quickly brought the gun up to the side of his head, closed his optics shut and emptied his processors as his finger pulled the trigger.
BANG!
His gun dropped from his hand as his fingers went limp, letting the handle slip from his grasp. His Energon blood splattered as the bullet went through his head, killing him instantly and penetrating through the other side. His legs buckled beneath him and he crumpled to the ground, bleeding a sparkling pool around him as his optics went dim, and his red armor slowly turned to a gray as he finally left, returning back to where Primus awaited him.
I looked up the word "Angst" and this immediately gave me inspiration to write this. It's short and sad, but I couldn't help it. It actually made me cry because he was so young and innocent. Anyways, leave a review if you like, they are greatly appreciated, and please keep them clean. *Plays "May it Be" by Enya* This song actually reminds me of this little bot :'( Listen to it afterwards and it makes you feel a little better...