Author's NB: I posted this a while back then removed it because I thought it was crap. I'm still not 100 happy with it, but acquaintances like it, so meh, that's good enough for me. Watch for the usual spelling and grammatical quirks involved when writing something this long, and beware, it is LONG.
Feel free to drop any critiques as I am still peaking over it in edits in time to time.
Oh, and this:
WARNING: THIS HAS LOTS OF VIOLENCE, SEXUAL IN-DOE-WEN-DOES AND NAUGHTY WORDS, IF YOU DON'T GO IN FOR THAT KIND OF IMMORAL AND REPUGNANT SHENANIGANS YOU MAY NOT WISH TO READ THIS. FURTHERMORE, IF YOU DON'T GO IN FOR SAID SHENANIGANS, AND READ THIS, AND ARE HENCEFOURTH OFFENDED, THAN TOUGH SHIT TO YOU SON, I'M NO ONE'S DAMN NANNY. IF YOU ARE A MUMMY OR A DADDY AND YOUR LITTLE BRAT SEES THIS AND HAS HORRIBLE NIGHTMARES THEN YOU SUCK AS A PARENT AND AT LEAST ITS NOT GAY WICCAN PORN OR SOMETHING THAT CONSERVATIVES AND CENSORS DON'T LIKE. FURTHERMORE, YOU ARE A BAD PARENT IF YOUR KID IS ON THE NET WITHOUT SUPERVISION. CONCURRENTLY, GET HARD YOU WUSSIES, I GREW UP ON A FARM AND SAW THINGS THAT WOULD MAKE MOST HARD CORE GAMERS THROW UP THEN RETREAT TO THE FOETAL POSITION IN THE NEAREST CORNER CRYING FOR THEIR MUMMY.
AND WHY DOESN'T SPELL CHECKER PICK UP SPELLING ERRS WHEN I TYPE IN CAPITAL LETTERS? MAYBE I JUST DIDN'T SPELL ANYTHING WRONG… LET ME TEIST… TET… WETHR… WOW, IT DOESN'T PICK UP BAD SPELLING…
ANYWAY…
P.S I THINK ITS FUNNY AS HELL TO INCLUDE THE OCCASIONAL WHACK AT FEMINISM, LIBERALS, CONSERVATIVES AND ANY AND ALL OTHER GROUPS WITH DELICATE SENSITIVTIES THAT PEDDLE BULLOCKS ABOUT BEING POLITICALLY CORRECT. I HATE THEM. I WISH THEY WOULD ALL GET COVERED IN STICKY YOGURT THAT HAS GONE MOUDLY AND THEN THE ZOMBIES WOULD EAT THEM.
BTW, I HAD A BOWL OF MINCE ON THE FLOOR FOR ONLY TWO DAYS AND IT GOT MAGGOTS IN IT. THE BIG JUICEY NEW ZEALAND MAGGOTS THAT ARE VERY WRIGGLY AND THE MINCE WAS COOKED AND HAD BEEN IN THE FRIDGE. I TOOK IT OUT TO CLEAN THE FRIDGE AND FORGOT IT WAS ON THE FLOOR – BUT I HAD IT COVERED…. PLEASE IF YOU KNOW WHY THIS HAPPENED POST A REVIEW.
Chapter One
Emma groaned as the middle-aged man started handing out the sheets of paper with their new assignment. Her un-elated tone sent a shock wave of other such moans from the class.
"Now, now people, this has got to be done, unless you want to be spending your summer with yours truly".
More groans. Emma smiled sarcastically as the teacher handed her the paper, she glanced down at the nicely presented text and wished she could be anywhere but here. The teacher returned to the front of the room and began discussing topics for the project.
She sat at the back of the bus and glanced out over the forest-covered landscape.
"So, what ya think of the assignment?"
She turned to the boy who addressed her.
"Usual, its sucks!"
He grunted in acknowledgement.
"Anyway, I don't even know what I'm going to do for it! This is what, the sixth one this year, seems a bit much if you ask me."
"Yeah well, what're ya going ta do?"
He shrugged.
"Maybe I should just kill the teacher and do everyone a favour!"
She grinned slyly as he chuckled.
The bus halted and the remaining students got off. The bus drove down the road and turned off.
"Hey, Emma!"
She turned to face her cousin.
"So, did you hear about the party that's going to be on Friday?"
She looked at him; some what surprised that he knew.
"That indeed I have".
"You thinking of checking it out?"
"Perhaps… anyway how the hell do you know about it?"
"I know a lot more than you think I do, just because the Autobots and my parents think I'm some withdrawn and shy looser doesn't mean they're right".
"Point taken. However, if we do go it's going to have to be one heck of an exercise in discretionary tactics".
"Heh, that's for sure".
"Well, dear sir, I look forward to working you in regards".
"As do I, comrade".
"Mind you, we're going to have to come up with a decent story to cover our arses".
"I'm sure you and your deceptive mind can spin something plausible".
"So who invited your geeky arse?"
"My geeky ass? I'll have you know that I happen to be in good standing with Mr. Terry Teas, and he extended unto my person a cordial invitation".
"Heh. No need to get snooty. Anyho-di-doddle, I didn't know you knew Mr. 'I'm so damn cool, check me out' Teas".
"That's always the plan. Make everyone think I'm a looser then no one suspects I'm up to… as you say… shenanigans. Not to mention, I didn't think hanging out with said Mr. Popularity was your scene".
"Oh well, you know, he's good for free beer not to mention he has a big property, me and Aaron will probably just end up spotlighting bloody possums, or whatever they're called over here in Yank land".
"Actually, I think it's illegal in the States".
"Well, I dunno, it is in Aussie. And anyway, it's not illegal if you don't see it, like driving through a red light with your eyes closed".
"Speaking of possums, Aaron and I are going to take the scenic route to the HQ, we have mischievous shenanigans to conjure… well, that and figuring out what we're going to do for this damn assignment we got saddled with today".
"While you're at it, get your brain churning up a decent lie".
"Lie is such a dirty word, I prefer "being economical with the truth".
"Well, what ever it is you call it, just make sure I have the script before the big night".
Emma and her companion disappeared into the lightly forested area, their books in tow.
"Watch out for bears".
Daniel called after them.
"Fuck you and your damn bears".
Aaron called back.
"Well, Mr. Witwicky, let us head on over to the base and get on the PS3 before some other schmuck has the same idea".
Harry, Daniel's best friend chortled.
"Can't refute that logic dear boy".
The two laughed as they headed along the road, hoping they'd get a ride with a passing Autobot.
--
She rolled back onto her back and stared up at the almost cloudless blue sky. They lay silently on the hill not far from Look Out Mountain for some time.
"Suppose we should be doing something about the assignment".
She stretched her arms and legs out.
"Or that lie".
She sat up and rubbed the back of her neck.
"That too".
"Well, how about you come up with a decent twist and I'll go do something interesting".
"Screw you Aaron, I can't be stuffed hanging around doing squat, lets go do something".
"Like what, knowing Daniel he's probably hogging the PS3 as we speak".
"Countless millions of computer equipment, you think the 'bots would spring for more then one PS3".
"There's always the X-box".
"AHAHAHAH!"
"Okay, okay, no need to get desperate".
"Hey, I know, lets go check out that smelly old factory, north side".
"Wait a sec, didn't you get busted over there a couple of weeks back by Magnus?"
"Yeah… and?"
"And didn't you get in huge amounts of trouble which miraculously stopped short of a life time grounding?"
"At the end of the day its all subjective".
"You're strange".
"Well, you up for it?"
"I dunno, Em, I mean, you may not have a good enough social life for a grounding to matter, but I do".
"So, who cares, you and I both know we've got to do the ole sneaky routine to get to Terry's, because as I recall your parents don't want you anywhere near that drunken influence of debauchery".
"Point made, and taken. Let's haul arse, if we hurry, we might get there before dark".
"Ooh, not scared of a little Nox?"
--
"So anyways, carrot top, how did you get in the factory in the first place, I thought it was all locked up".
"Master key".
She pushed a large array of plant life dangling in front of her out of the way.
"How the hell did you get the master key?"
"Raoul".
"Raoul? You mean that shady Hispanic character that hangs out a bit to often with Tracks?"
"That sounds like the guy".
"Last I checked he didn't go handing out those things to miscreant teenaged girls".
"Yeah, well, I had some info on him that if it fell into the hands of the bots he'd never be holding those keys again, let alone handing them out to miscreant teenaged girls".
"What? Kiddie porn?"
"Gay porn, actually'.
"Eeew, say no more".
They climbed over a felled tree.
"When are they going to flatten that place?"
"Dunno, I heard next year. But apparently Skids and Beachcomber are trying to get Prime to keep it as is, something about human culture and historical thingie-mah-jigs".
"How in god's name does a decrepit old abator constitute a cultural historical gem worthy of the protection of Autobot hippies?"
"Who knows? But whatever floats their boat, right?"
Chapter Two"In the friendship of conversation I'd like to state, that Twinkies are the most god awful pieces of shit I have ever tasted".
Aaron said as he squeezed himself under the twisted fence.
"You're preaching to the choir buddy".
She replied as she followed him through.
"Mind you, they are good for hurling from cars in the general direction of school children".
"I'm sure that's illegal".
She brushed the dust and a few dead twigs from her clothing.
"Well, so is what we're doing".
"I doubt we'll get jail time, Al".
"Yes, well, tell that to Magnus, and your uncle and aunty and my olds".
The two started across the tired concrete that was once a busy car park.
"Holy crap certainly looks a lot more ominous in this light… or rather the lack of it".
"Aaron, have you noticed that our vocab has been quite esoteric today?"
"And that's a bad thing?"
He smirked.
"I ain't complaining, just a quaint observation".
"Anyway, lets go check out that big arse building".
"Maybe the ghosts of all those poor moo-moo cows still haunt the killing floor".
"And on a cold Thursday night you can here the ringing of cow bells, the frightened mooing, the squishy udders as they wobble against unsteady legs".
The two laughed, their voices carrying across the vacant lot.
--
They came to the large wooden doors, bolted shut with a large rusting padlock and weakening chain.
"You think someone will notice our absence?"
Aaron asked as he grabbed the chain and rattled it, testing its integrity.
"Someone will notice eventually, I was supposed to see my uncle this afternoon. Mr. Hemming rung him last night and told him I was failing Chem.".
"You? Failing chem.? The hell you say!"
"Well, not so much failing as blowing out three windows with something I cooked up".
"So that's why we had the fire drill…"
"Mind you, the thing is that most of them would be unlikely to figure out where we went, and they can't question Danny as he won't know".
"Yet, if they're smart, they may figure it out".
"Dubious assumption. They'll probably just get Teletran Junior to do a scan for our life signs".
"Damn. I knew I shouldn't have let them scan me".
"Yeah, well, what are you going to do?"
"Break into a shabby old slaughter house".
"Right on my criminal friend".
--
"Alright, dumbarse, how do we get in?"
Aaron turned and looked at her, his hand still on the lock.
Emma looked along the side of the building, her gaze eventually resting on a pile of wooden crates, an old skip and a pile of corrugated steel panels. Above that mound was a window with no evidence of glass.
"There".
She pointed at the destination.
"Good enough".
They jogged over and began examining the stability of the aged objects.
"Looks strong enough, I wouldn't give too much credit to the crates, but the skip looks okay, and plastic takes millions of years to break down".
Aaron said as he gave the metal sides of the skip a decent whack with the side of his foot.
"Well, you're theory, so you go first".
"Fine".
Aaron put his foot into the hand hole on the skip, and then hauled himself up onto the plastic lid. He gingerly pushed down with his feet.
"Feels stable enough".
He reached down and offered Emma his hand, which she accepted and using the same handhold pushed herself up.
The two looked inside the window.
"Can't be more then a two metre drop".
She stated.
"Just bend your knees when you land".
He chuckled as he climbed through the window and dropped inside. A crackling sound echoed throughout as he landed on the glass. She looked down at him.
"Piece of cake".
He called up. She smiled, and followed suit.
--
They stood in the centre of the large building. Aaron twirled slowly around, looking up and taking in all that surrounded him. The concrete floor bore brown stains that they both knew was blood from the animals that met their final ends in this room. Steel tracks ran across mid way up the building's height, hooks dangling, some of them rattling in the breezes that found their way inside. Chains also hung intermittently giving a more deathly feel to the room as they jangled with portentous music. There was a raised level not far from where they stood, just under the majority of the hooks, steel grids covered the raised portion, which overlaid a series of indented gutters that would drain any fluids from the animals along the edges of the building to a large series of openings. Around the killing floor were fences, connected to a series of pens, which paralleled the centre of finality.
Lying over one of the fences was a degrading hose, still connected to a tap not far from the theatre of destruction. Rust coated the nosal. The tap it was screwed into was also covered in rust, mould or some kind of growth crept up the wall and down to the floor from the broken handle. The hose, of course, had long since collapsed in on itself, flattened by time and lack of use.
Running alongside the far wall was a balcony, a set of stairs rose from the adjacent wall, meeting the balcony, at the end of which was a wooden door, ajar, gently banging on occasion and creaking in the soft wind. Broken windows spread along the top of the balcony, filthy and not revealing any secrets as to what lay behind.
"This is pretty damn cool".
Aaron gasped.
"Game to check up those stairs?"
She asked as she started across the messy floor. He didn't answer, merely followed, still awed by the morbid surrounds.
The stairs were surprisingly stable. They did give the momentarily wobble, but it seemed to be the vibration from their footsteps, certainly nothing that culled their will to continue.
The two walked cautiously along the balcony, it's strength a tad more suspect then the stairs. Aaron peered into the dark through one of the missing windows.
"Holy crap this is cool, I should have brought my camera".
He stated as he rubbed the dust from the next window and strained to look through.
"Well, you can bring it next time".
She said as she reached the door, and carefully opened it, not sure if it'd collapse in a heap. It groaned loudly in protest, but it easily creaked open. Stepping through she called back to her companion.
"You know, you can get a better view from this side".
"Shame you don't have a torch".
He said as he came up behind her in the corridor that the door opened to.
She reached into her pocket and took out her key ring, upon which was a small cylinder shaped torch. She pressed the button in and a small beam of light penetrated the dusty blackness. They walked down the hall, trying each of the door handles, all of which were locked, much to their disappointment.
The end one, however, opened up easily enough.
They were welcomed into the dirty office by lines of hazy light that tore through the mucky windows. A large wooden desk sat in the corner it, rusting metal chairs stacked on top. It didn't look like it could take any extra weight, one of the legs was broken so it was tilting slightly the chairs themselves had slid across the dusty surface where they now rested precariously against the wall. Broken glass lay under the windows. The sporadic yellowing papers lay scattered around the room. An old metal bin, a dark red rusty colour, filled with wires, foams and more papers sat just besides the massacred desk. According to the calandar with a naked woman with bad hair holding a large meat cleaver and standing next to a beef carcass it was 1982, August to be precise. The only other object in the room was a completely rusted coat hanger that hung from a hook behind the door.
"What? No moose head?"
Aaron asked as he ran his fingers along the dusty top of the desk.
"Wonder where this goes?"
She asked as she stood before the door, which was actually very inconspicuous in the grimy.
"Only one way to find out".
Aaron reached around her and turned the handle. The knob was a little stiff, and for a moment he thought it might be locked, but hearing the click he gave it a good push, opening it.
A suspicious staircase led down into the darkness of the floors below.
"Well, I wasn't expecting that".
Aaron scrunched up his face.
"A toilet, perhaps?"
She asked.
"Even butchers have to pee".
He took the key ring out of her hand and pressed the torch's button, and began descending the stairs.
"Damn, it stinks down here".
Aaron said after about 30 seconds of movement down.
"Well, what do you expect? It's been shut up for years".
"Still… someone could have been considerate enough to leave a plug in air-freshener or something".
"Wonder how many roaches call this place their home".
"Enough to make Elite's steel skin crawl".
The two chuckled. Their voices continued to echo through the shaft.
"Found another door, carrot".
"Well, stop with the suspense and open the damn thing".
--
It was nothingness.
Pitch black.
"Why do I get the feeling we're going to be running into a masked homicidal maniac?"
Aaron asked as he waved the small torch around the darkness in front of him, not really affecting it in any significant way.
"I believe they prefer to be called 'conscience impaired'.
"So where do you think we are… and that's no an invitation for sarcasm".
He asked turning to look at her, trickles of light from the torch and the stair well illuminating her enough for him to get the general gist of her expressions. He caught a shrug.
"Lets see where it goes… well… "see".
He smiled back at her then turned around.
"Grab my hand".
"Aaron, excuse me one moment, but I wanna try something"
"Sure, go for gold".
"Guard and defend me from the foe malign; In death's dread moments make me only thine; Call me, and bid me come to thee on high; Where I may praise thee, with thy saints for aye".
Her voice sang the melancholic words; the gentle sound of her speech carried the semantics into the artificial night.
"That was the most damn macabre thing I've ever heard".
She giggled.
"But I have to admit, that was pretty cool, do something else".
"O come, Thou Day-spring from on high. And cheer us by thy drawing nigh; Disperse the gloomy clouds of night. And death's dark shadow put to flight. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel. Shall come to thee, O Israel!"
"That wasn't as cool, but it was still damn spiffy".
The two chuckled as they continued down the eerie and dark path.
"Bloody hell this thing just keeps going".
"Well, we're bound to come out of here eventually".
"How about you make the time go quicker, regal me, the darkness and the roaches with some more gloomy tunes".
"Um… lessee…. Ah, yes, that would do… Ka waiata kia Maria; Hine I whakaae; Whakameatia mai; Hei whare tangata; Hine purotu, Hine nagakau; Hine rangimarie; Ko te whaea, Ho te whaea; O te ao. O te ao".
Suddenly Aaron started sniggering.
"What?"
"PFFFFFFFFT PFFFT Pfffft".
Aaron ripped one, which gleefully travelled down the long reaches of the darkness.
When the gaseous tribute ceased the two of them erupted in immature laughter their amusement bounding off the walls, informing them just how small the area was.
Their giggles soon tapered out and they were left to the silence.
"Owh shit, Aaron, you didn't do a silent one?"
She let go of his hand to squeeze her nose.
"Ay?"
"You stink?"
"No, I didn't"
"Well, what's that stench?"
"I dunno, I thought that was you".
"Well, it wasn't".
"It's pretty bad, isn't it?"
"Well, we are in an abator".
"Still, it smells pretty fresh".
"Either way, I think we've had our fun, this doesn't seem to be going anywhere, so lets just get the hell out and go back to HQ".
She added as she reached out and took his hand. Odd, she thought, she didn't think he was on her left.
"Aaron, you have bloody cold hands, and what have you got on them, they feel wet… you didn't piss yourself did you?"
"Hate to break it to you babe, but you're not holding my hand".
"Come on, Aaron, don't dick around".
"Seriously. You're not holding my hand".
Aaron shone the dim light from the torch in her direction, and saw standing next to her the awkward figure.
"Oh god!"
Aaron stammered as the figure turned to face him, the whites of its eyes catching the light and reflecting it back with a bloody tinge. It's mouth opened, gapping, the foul stench breathed towards him, making his stomach churn. The figure gave a sickening growl and then took a staggering step towards the teenaged male.
"Emma! Run!"
Emma did more then that, she too, seeing the unsteady figure just to her side and in front of her, kicked the thing in the back of the knee, sending it down at Aaron's feet, and without any hesitation he jumped over it, catching up with the girl who was quickly down the corridor.
They got to the door, which was still open, the dim light from the top spurring them on. Their puffs echoed up the man made shaft, but from behind them they could hear the clumsy staggers of the figure, moaning as it ambled quickly.
The door to the office, another still open, and they barged through it, slamming it shut behind them, sending a shudder through the entire wall and rattling the windows.
"The desk!"
Aaron grunted as he ran towards it, pushing the chairs off it, she was suddenly next too him and they pushed it over to the door.
"That was way too easy, it won't hold him for long".
She stated as she looked at her friend, both covered in sweat. He nodded.
"Then lets make like a tree and get the fuck out of here".
They ran out of the office, down the upstairs corridor and out on to the balcony. Where they came to an abrupt stop as they looked down to the killing floor.
"What in fuck's name?"
He stammered.
"What are…?
"No time".
He grabbed her by the wrist and ran along the balcony, this time it was less then stable, their swift movements and heavy steps straining it at its foundations. They got to the stairs, and without hesitation sprinted down them reaching the floor.
"There's no way we're going to get out that window".
She looked at him. He nodded in agreement and his head turned quickly and started scanning the building for an exit.
"There!"
He pointed to the other end of the building, a large hole in the wall, once an entranceway for the livestock, but time had worn it to a bigger access. The two of them looked uncomfortably across the floor, however, noting the other figures stammering about.
"I don't know what they're on, but I sure as hell don't want to find out".
Emma gasped at her friend.
"Then lets go".
He yanked her arm, getting her into the motions as he began sprinting across the concrete; she was close behind, and noting the sudden and direct movements of the drug addicts.
They reached their destination pretty much un-evaded, thankful for that much at least. There was no exchange of words, Aaron was out first, down on his knees and through the hole, she was next. They found themselves in a pen, metal grids rusting away, the groans of the figures behind them getting louder, indicating their progress. They shared a glance and then were across the pen, reaching the metal fence, up and over, landing hard on the ground, unawares that it was a metre drop, the steps leading up to the pen, obviously a loading bay for livestock, had avoided their attention, but there was no for a debrief, they just had to run, they didn't know what it was they fled from, but whatever it was, they knew it was bad news, especially if those things, people, whatever caught up with them.
"Ah, Aaron, my chum… what the fuck are those?"
She said pointing in the direction of what had grabbed her attention. Aaron turned, following the extension of her arm.
"Oh god. They look like dogs".
They started running towards the two teens.
"Angry dogs. RUN!"
Aaron bellowed as he began the long sprint across the parking lot. She certainly didn't waste any time watching the fit animals she simply followed the example of her friend.
The howls of the dogs pierced the air around them, their barking assaulting their ears, but instead of instilling fear it instilled an enthusiasm to keep going, to push harder, maybe the dogs were friendly, maybe those people in there were just playing a joke, but at this point, they weren't ready to give those things a benefit of the doubt, they just wanted to get away.
They reached the fence, and were down on their knees without any thought of the locale of those things, as long as they weren't snapping at their heels they believed they were fine for the time being. Aaron crawled under the fence a lot quicker then his female companion, he stood, pivoted and grabbed her by the wrists, he pulled her through. The sharp edges of the wire mesh penetrated her back, stabbing her deeply and even through her blazer they were able to scrape along her skin. She cried out in agony, but it wasn't enough to slow her down, not enough to give him concerned enough that they would sit and have a band-aide break. Instead they were off, running along the edge of the fence line until they came to the road. The dusty gravel road that had long ago seen it's last vehicle, human at least.
The two just had to put up with the unsteady, uncomfortable shingle as they bolted to what they hoped would be assistance and freedom from those things back there, those angry things.
Chapter Three
The patrol consisted of three cars, red, yellow and a car bearing police markings… their speed would make it almost impossible for even the most ardent of petrol heads to identify their makes.
"Why the hell do I have to ruin my new wax job to patrol around a dirty old human butchery? I mean, seriously, does Optimus have it in for me? Is he jealous of my beautiful complexion?"
"Honestly bro, there's no conspiracy, but Optimus says the Decepticons could be in the area, and we need to check out all the places they could be using as a base, and this old human butchery could be one such place".
"Until we have construction under way, and guards on a more permanent duty we can't rule out anything".
"I'd say the Decepticons would have more class then to hang around this smelly wreck, not that they have much class to begin with".
Something suddenly ran out onto the road, Sunstreaker slamming on the breaks, not in any mood to dent his hood with some earthling creature. If in robot mode his optics would have widened as he looked at the small teenaged girl standing shocked at his front.
Aaron came bungling out of the forest.
"Holy shit! Thank every god that you're here! There are wild dogs and druggies in that old abator".
Aaron blurted, the girl still standing in front of Sunstreaker who was thanking Primus he hadn't hit, mainly because it would have taken ages for him to pick her hair out of his grid.
"Get in".
Prowl called as he opened his doors.
Aaron grabbed Emma and packed her into the transformer. Just as he got the door shut behind himself the first of the dogs came barking out of the forest, leaping atop Prowl, snarling and pawing at the windscreen trying to get at the two humans.
"Oh god…".
Emma stammered as she got her first good look at one of the creatures that had been chasing them, however, before she could have time to truly scrutinise it Prowl was reversing quickly, the two others speeding past them to outrun the dogs, Sunstreaker definitely not in the mood to tangle with messy flesh creatures, certainly not ones so dirty. Plus, Prime had made his objections to engaging organisms of flesh and blood without his say so quite clear.
It didn't take long for Prowl to shake the slobbering, blood-covered dog from his bonnet, and it wasn't long after that the creatures disappeared from his rear view mirror.
Chapter Four"You know, I expect this crap from Jazz and his ilk, but honestly Emma, I thought you knew that you climb over fences not under them in order to avoid all manner of injury".
"Well, at least it doesn't look too bad, a few stitches there, and there, and probably there, the rest can just be dressed to prevent infection".
First Aid looked up at Ratchet, who did not seem impressed in the least.
"Well, it's not all just my fault".
"You've been taking lessons from Jazz, haven't you, that's the same shit he tries to peddle me".
"But it was the druggies, and their doped up dogs".
"Riiiiiiiiight, the druggies and their doped up dogs. Well, at least you can say you didn't get that from Jazz, he, at least puts forward something more plausible".
"She's right, ya know Ratch, there were these crazy dogs that were chasing them, we didn't see any druggies, but Prowl got up close and personal with one".
"Oh! And you forgot to mention how one of them took a bite from my bumper, look at it, my new paint job, ruined with those sub-intellect, quad ped's tooth marks!"
"Oh for Primus' sake, Sunstreaker, unless you want to have laser scaple singe marks to add to your collection I suggest you piss off and get out of my repair bay".
"Well, I never!"
Sunstreaker turned and marched out in a huff.
"Wow, he must be taking tantrum lessons from Tracks".
"Aaron, you're in no situation to be making jokes".
Ratchet looked down at the human.
"Yes sir".
He said patronisingly, looking down at the floor as he snickered.
"And Sideswipe if you're finished telling tales about drug induced dogs, I suggest you leave me to my own devices".
"Ah, right. Should I go get Prime?"
"I think Prime has a bit more to worry about then intoxicated dogs".
"I mean about the drug intoxicated humans".
"The same drug intoxicated humans that you didn't see?"
"We saw them".
"Aaron, what did I just say? And Sideswipe, do whatever makes you happy. Aaron, as for you, go watch TV or something, anything that involves you leaving my repair bay will be good".
Sideswipe and Aaron looked at each other, then at the cantankerous Autobot surgeon, and they left sheepishly, leaving the girl alone with the two medics.
"At least this makes a change from wielding arms back on pyros".
Ratchet said irritability.
--
"Now Emma, I want you to stay here, lying on your front, got that, not on your left side, not on your right side and sure as a smelting pool is hot, not on your back. And you're going to lye here for a few hours to make sure those wounds don't start gushing blood all over my nice clean repair bay. Got it?"
"Yes Ratchet. Can I watch some TV?"
His optics narrowed.
"Don't push your luck. Oh, yes, and a certain uncle and aunt of yours are waiting outside to pay you a visit".
"Owh crud".
Ratchet chortled and left the room.
"Is he always like that?"
She asked First Aid.
"Only on Mondays".
"But it's a Thursday".
"Well, that's true, but Jazz and a few of the others thought it'd be funny to test out Wheeljack's new incinary device… and… well, I don't think I have to tell you about the results".
"Ahh… that explains it".
"Explicitly so, well, I'll leave you to Spike and Carly".
He said as he watched the two humans enter.
She smiled politely at First Aid then turned her head to face her guardians.
"Well, Emma, another fine mess I see you've gotten yourself into".
Spike stated.
"Well, at least I didn't start any fires".
"We're not amused, Emma".
Carly added, her hands on her hips.
"Well, hey, it wasn't my fault… the druggies…"
"Emma, stop lying to us, alright, and even if there were druggies you shouldn't have been anywhere near there in the first place. We've had this conversation before, the last time you got caught there, endangering yourself. You're just lucky those so called druggies didn't catch up with you. And to put Aaron in danger…"
"I didn't force Aaron to come, you know".
"I wouldn't go being a smart arse, right now if I were you missy".
"We're going to leave you in the care of Ratchet over night, to keep an eye on those scratches".
"What? They're just bloody scratches, I can go home! There's nothing wrong with me".
Emma growled.
"Listen to your uncle, Emma, you're staying. Ratchet can put up with you for a change, besides, it's for the best, you could get an infection".
"You do realise, aunty Carly, that it'd take a couple of days for an infection to come up".
"What did I say about being a smart arse?"
Spike stated, pointing his finger at her.
"Fine. Sorry. I'll stay here then and keep Ratchet amused with my tales of nuisance".
"Good luck in that".
Spike turned and walked out.
"Honestly, Emma, do you do this to us on purpose? Or are you just always a handful?"
Carly asked, her voice sounding disappointed. Emma sighed, rolled her eyes and rested her head down on the less then comfortable pillow. Carly shook her head in annoyance and followed her now gone husband.
"Bloody hell".
She grumbled to herself as she lay there staring at the sterile wall in front of, a pleasant change from what she'd been subjected to in the last couple of hours. She noticed a rather pugent smell.
"Damn, hope that's not me".
She stated to the empty room, she sniffed a few times and then found herself drawn to look down at her right hand. It had a small amount of a sticky rusty covered slime. She poked it with her left index finger, it was soft, cold and gluggly. She wiped a gunk off and brought it up to her nose, and inhaled the noxious odour.
"Holy Shit!"
She gasped, suddenly her stomach churned and she vomited on the pillow, it running off and down onto the floor. She gagged, spat a couple of times in an attempt to get the taste out.
"Man, Ratch is not going to be happy".
However, despite that, she didn't really want to have to lay face over the puddle of disgorgement on the pillow, plus, her neck was getting a kink. She reached over and took the bell from the hook, she gave the red button a press and waited.
Ratchet was going to be mad.
--
Ratchet was mad. He was fuming.
"You did this to me on purpose? Didn't you? Bloody hell, Emma, what did I ever do to you, huh? Or did Jazz put you up to this? What kind of conspiracy…"
"Ratchet! It's no big deal, I'll take care of it, you go have that break you were supposed to have four hours ago".
First Aid stepped in, and for that Emma was eternally grateful.
Ratchet simply sighed, threw his arms up in the air in protest, and grunted a Cybertronian cuss before dramatically stomping off.
"It really was an accident".
She sounded embarrassed.
"Yes. I know. But those cuts can't have made you vomit".
First Aid responded as he placed a towel over what Emma had donated to the repair bay.
"Yeah, I sniffed this crap on my finger, and boy howdy does it reek something fierce".
First Aid turned from the sink where he was running some water into a bowl, he looked at her.
"Let's see?"
He walked towards her and held up her hand, noting the rust covered blob on the top of her hand.
"Certainly not something you'd want coating your ice cream".
"What is it? Do you know?"
"Never seen anything like it before in my life, might get Percy to take a look, it'd be right up his ally".
First Aid went to a near by drawer and removed a couple of swabs from it. He returned to the bedside with the bowl of water he'd previously been involved with.
"Can I get a copy of the results?"
She asked jokingly.
"I'll let Percy know. Now give your hand a good scrub, until we know what that gunk is, treat it as a contagion".
--
Chapter Five"Fascinating. How interesting. But it certainly can't be…"
Perceptor transformed fromhis microscope mode and picked up the sampled and placed it in the freezer to preserve it for further tests. A perplexed look on his features he walked over to his computer and punched in several digits. A screen popped up and a ringing sound was heard. Suddenly the screen lit up and First Aid was sitting in front of his vision.
"Perceptor, do you have results from the sample, or is this for something else?"
"It is about the sample. Concurrently, as a matter of interest did you run bloods on Emma?"
"No. The cuts on the back weren't deep enough to be concerned about serious infection. Besides, it would have been too early for anything to be present in the blood. Why? Have you found something?"
"Indeed I have, and it is most distressing. I believe it would be wise to run successive blood tests on her. I found a rather potent viral life form in the sample. I am sure that if left untreated it could prove damning to the human system".
Perceptor watched for First Aid's reaction, which was merely a brief nod.
"I'll get on it now, thank you Perceptor."
"Subsequently, it would be prudent to keep an optic on this, from what I have discovered it reproduces quickly, appearing to be quite communicable. We might have to consider informing the respective authorities about this situation, especially if it progresses out of hand".
"Well, I'll keep a close eye on Emma, and just to be on the safe side, give her a round of immune-o boasters".
"That would be wise. I will keep you informed in regards to the matter".
--
Perceptor activated the projector relaying a series of coloured images onto a large screen. Optimus sat calmly at the head of the table while a rather irate Magnus sat on his right; he had other things to worry about than more of Perceptor's scientific medical mumbo-jumbo, as the humans called it. First Aid and Ratchet sat overlooking some data pads preparing to give their findings as well. Perceptor began, his optics focussed, they flashed brightly, a sign to the others he was going to begin a long-winded speech about his day.
Spike, too, sat there, also unhappy about the whole situation. Other things were keeping his attention, Daniel wasn't doing well in school, Carly was nagging him about how they didn't visit her parents enough, his father was becoming ill enough that rest home care was probably in the near future, Emma was being a damn nuisance and on top of all that he had to help negotiate a treaty with a less then honest race of aliens. So instead, Spike switched himself into auto, gave an interested look, and thought what he could do about his own problems, all the while staring vacantly at the moving images and wondered what the hell it was this time.
"What you're looking at gentlemen, is a rather potent virus, capable of killing within a 48 hour period, following infection…"
There wasn't much of a response, telling the Autobot scientist that perhaps they didn't quite understand the severity of it.
"The virus was found in a sample of an interesting substance discovered on Emma's hand. It's also highly contagious".
"So, does Emma have this thing or what?"
Spike asked, looking concerned, but knowing that at the end of the day the girl was in the best of care.
"Interestingly enough our tests confirm she does not have this aliment".
Perceptor relayed.
"However, we are not sure of the incubation period, so we could say she does not have it, but it could appear in a few days"
Perceptor continued.
"Wait a minute, how can this thing be highly contagious, kill in 48 hours and not have infected Emma?"
Spike asked.
"Well, to be honest, we're not sure".
The Autobot scientist looked rather baffled.
"So what are we looking at, in the long run? Symptoms?"
Prime leant back in his chair, his hands on the table, the fingers of one tapping softly.
"Well, the virus manifests as a slight cold, one would not know they were too badly ill until it was too late. You see, in the brain of living higher biological entities there exists an electrical charge. It remains for a period after death. Here's where it becomes very interesting, the virus has an ability to use that charge to regenerate certain areas of the brain, the most basic, mind you, motor functions, a desire to eat, et cetera. However, virus also has a degenerative affect on the host, virtually decaying the host's cell structures before death, causing terminal damage to the vital organs and systems. Tests on mice revealed a most alarming trait infected attacked non-infected, causing the virus to be transmitted via the blood. Those infected develop incredible strength and stamina, yet lack any intelligence".
"Could this thing infect humans?"
Prime inquired.
"Early tests indicate that yes, it can infect any living organism. I have also discovered that the virus can evolve quickly, and one such strain can cause mutation, especially plants and lower animals".
"Cures? Treatment?"
Magnus asked.
"We are working on a vaccine, but once the individual has been killed and reanimated for lack of a better phrase, the only concise way to end the infection is to destroy the host via fire. In regards to dealing with an individual infected host, massive brain or neck injury tends to do the job".
"You said this thing is contagious, exactly how contagious?"
Prime looked at Perceptor.
"Given that the virus is passed through blood transmission, it does not take much for it to spread, especially if a non-infected individual comes into contact with compromised blood. Once a subject has been infected, even if they are still alive, all we could do is employ euthanasia".
"Alright. Plans? Suggestions? How are we going to deal with this?"
Magnus asked.
"I will continue with my studies upon the virus. Also attempting to further develop the vaccine and hopefully a subsequent cure."
"You do realise that this thing could cause a massive panic among the general public, how are we planning to deal with that".
Spike added.
"We have discussed this amongst ourselves in the repair bay, we believe the best course of action at this junction is too keep it on a need to know basis. Of course, we believe informing the proper human authorities would be a necessity, the CDC for example".
Perceptor said.
"Where did this thing come from? I'm pretty sure viruses don't exist in nature that can bring the dead back to life?"
Magnus leant back in his chair, crossing his massive arms over his broad chest. .
"We want to know that ourselves. But it appears that this virus was created".
"It could have been designed as a fountain of youth and it merely got out of control".
Ratchet added.
"Or a biological weapon, which ensures that your enemies destroy each other".
Spike said sombrely.
"Hang on. Didn't Prowl and the brothers spout some crap about druggies lingering around the factory? Could they have something to do with the manufacture of this thing? Or maybe they're infected?"
Spike looked at Prime as he spoke.
"I'll have a patrol go check it out".
"Could the Decepticons have a hand in this?"
Magnus interjected.
"It is a possibility, they do have technology to manipulate genetic structure, as for human ability in regards, it is difficult to ascertain what they can do as there are a lot of maverick scientists working with private funding".
"So we're looking at a quarantine in the meantime?"
Spike asked.
"Magnus, organise a suitable quarantine zone. First Aid, Perceptor, Ratchet, whatever resources you need, take. Spike, you inform the relevant human authorities. And I don't think I have to tell you that this is strictly confidential".
Prime stood up and looked around the table.
"Dismissed".
Chapter Six
Aaron groaned as he rolled over, clasping his stomach and in an instant writhing in pain on his bed.
It had been approximately two days since the incident at the factory, and since then he had been less then on top. He had been going through some 'changes', he had noticed his skin was changing colours in places and he had been able to pick some off, a large amount of rather potent smelling flesh attached to it, was it rotting? He hadn't been to Autobot City in two days; he couldn't be bothered really, too tired, too lazy and this damn assignment was taking up all his time. It didn't help that Emma was being kept in repair bay; it was just a couple of scratches! She was supposed to be helping with the assignment, not slacking off.
Well, at least the pain was starting to subside… it was accompanied by a slowly approaching blackness. He faded away into it, like an old television set. Before he knew it, he was lost from his consciousness, floating away on a blanket of quiet, cold comfort. He was, in a strange way, happy.
--
The woman in her mid-40s stood at the stove watching the meat casserole begin to simmer. She smiled as the smell wafted through the house, any moment now Aaron, her son, would be descending the stairs like a bat out of hell to get the top bit of the dish. He loved casserole, as far as he was concerned it was the be-all and end-all of food dishes. She smiled as she turned off the potatoes and noted the clock in the microwave. 6.43pm, her second husband would be home soon, he like her first husband, loved her casserole, all the men in her life seemed to. She sighed thoughtfully as she remembered the day the police arrived at her door telling her that a drunk driver had killed her husband along with Emma's parents. She was so distraught that she couldn't function, her son Aaron was torn between helping Emma deal with her tragedy and helping his mother; he was also trying to mourn for his father. She recalled Emma, she was a wonderful girl, she had told her that if no one came forward to claim the girl that she was welcome in their home, that this tragedy brought them all together but Emma's American uncle and aunty had taken her in. The most coincidental thing had been that shortly after the accident and Emma leaving for America, she had met the most wonderful man.
At first she felt guilty being happy with another man not so long after the tragedy, but she believed that her husband would of wanted her to be happy so she married the man and within a month they too were moving to America because of his job – he worked at Autobot City thus Emma and Aaron were reunited again. She smiled again and continued to stir the casserole.
Suddenly her daughter's scream rung out through the house, it wasn't a scream of joy or a play scream, those often filled the house, it was a scream of fear and then pain, excruciating agony. In shock she dropped the spoon into the pot and ran up the stairs. She bounded into her daughter's room to find her son, Aaron, leaning over the body on the bed. The woman could barely gasp.
"Aaron?"
Her voice stammered.
Terror took her as she slowly realised the true horror of what her sight gave her. Aaron's actions etching themselves firmly in her mind. He grunted, the crunching sounds ceased and he turned to face the woman who had given him life. He looked at her, the once brown irises paled, bloodshot. His mouth a gaping hole, black and cruel, the blood of his ten-year old sister smeared on his face. Standing, lurched towards his mother, he lifted his rotting, stenchy arms. Fingers covered in crimson, chunks of flesh, betraying his involuntary deed. With soulless intent lunged upon his mother who stood still, nailed with shock to the floor. Gnawing at her neck, her life's fluid spilling out, lapped by the creature, a shell of her son, the redness filling his mouth, drenching clothes, carpet, spraying upon walls. Somewhere in her crying mind she was aware she was screaming, but no sound was uttered. Awareness of her fading vision, her brain released chemicals in a hope to kill the physical torment but to no avail.
How welcoming was that inky black void.
Cold yet full of warmth.
Drifting into it.
Closer.
Almost there.
Welcome home, to my kingdom.
To the room I have prepared for you.
--
Chapter Seven
"What do you make of all this cloak and dagger shit, Prowl?"
Jazz looked at his companion.
Prowl simply shrugged as he watched the factory in the valley below from their vantage point on one of the surrounding hills.
"I'm not sure, besides, I wasn't informed of the circumstances that warrant this patrol." He informed matter-of-factually.
"So what do you think we're keeping in the radius zone?"
"Like I said before, I was not informed of specifics, but whatever it is, it must be dangerous if Prime isn't dropping clues".
"Ya think Magnus knows?"
"Highly likely, it's only logical, those two inform each other of everything, they're worse than human teenaged girls".
The two laughed, then quickly looked behind them to make sure that no one had come up behind them… experience dictates.
"So what ya think is wrong with Em?"
"Again, I do not know, I overheard Hot Rod telling Blaster that he went to pay her a visit, however the Medics wouldn't let him in, they informed him that she was seriously ill and it was best to let her rest".
"I wonder what's her prob?"
"Yes, well, what ever it is, it must be quite serious since she's only been put in the repair bay a few days ago, and the last I saw her, that was bout three days ago she was perfectly healthy".
The sound of an approaching truck alerted them to the new comer. The truck stopped, and unfolded into a large blue, red and white mech. Ultra Magnus.
"Sir?"
Prowl saluted.
"Prime wants a report on the situation, I came to get it, what can I tell him? What have you observed?"
"Nothing of importance. Sir".
"Yeah, quiet as a mouse in a house".
"Nothing?"
"Nothing, nada, zip, zero!"
"Well, report the instant you see something a miss".
"Ah, Sir, we're all a little confused as to our "mission" out here, would it be possible to relay information?"
Magnus looked at Prowl for a moment, his optics narrowed with thought.
"I'm sorry Prowl. But this situation is too titchy to go informing everyone. Trust me, you'll know right away what to report".
Chapter Eight
"Daniel, come down and say hello to your granddad".
Spike stood at the bottom of the stairs and yelled.
Sparkplug chuckled and playfully punched his son in the upper arm.
"Reminds me of you at that age".
"Ah, Dad, I wasn't that bad?"
"Yes you were".
Carly smiled as she placed the last dish on the table.
"It's a shame Emma couldn't be here, but I guess she's getting the best care at the City. I have to say Ratchet's pretty good with humans".
Sparkplug said.
"Yes, well. Emma only has her self to blame, she was told plenty of times not to go to that old factory".
Spike grumbled as he took out his hankerchief and wiped his nose.
"Huh! As I recall Spike Witwicky, you used to be quite adventurous with ol' Bumblebee, getting into all sorts of shenanigans".
"Oh, Dad, like I said I wasn't that b… actually I was, but I never endangered my life or Bumblebee's".
"Sure Spike, sure".
Carly said sarcastically as she placed a jug of gravy in the centre of the table.
"That's right. I do recall an instant with Insecticons and a large amount of lightening".
Sparkplug informed.
"Oh yes, and there was the whole Autobot-X fiasco…"
"How'd you find out about that?"
Spike asked his wife.
"Oh, I have my sources".
Daniel suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs.
"Hey Grandpa!"
Daniel said, faking enthusiasm.
He walked down the stairs into the imminent bear hug. They then sat around the table and began their meal.
--
Carly sighed as she placed the last dish away in the cupboard and poured the tea into the cup for her husband. Spike and his father sat in the lounge talking about old times and some legal matters – Sparkplug's will. Daniel had gone up stairs, claiming he had "homework", which he needed to do. Carly then joined them handing her husband the tea and sitting down with her own mug next to her father in law.
"Anyway dad, I think it's important, I mean I update mine all the time, I know it's morbid but it's helpful".
"I know son, its just when you do one it makes ya realise that you're not goin' be round forever, and the sooner I get mine updated I'm going to have to admit that I'm getting on in years and that I could go at any time. I used to update it all the time when I worked with the Autobots, and that's good that you're doing, you have to take care of you're family".
"Dad, there's no shame in admitting that we're not going to live forever. Besides, what would happen if you went into a home? Or had a stroke? Or a heart attack? At the very least get a power of attonry set up. One of my uncles didn't do any of that, and he suffered a massive stroke, killed him, he had a large estate, a lot of cars, money the works, and a large family, now his children don't even talk to each other".
Carly stated.
A knock on the door interrupted Sparkplug's next comment.
"I'll get it".
She placed the tea on the table and got up to answer the door.
She smiled as she opened the door looking at Aaron's stepfather.
"Hello, Carly. Is Emma home yet?"
He asked.
"No, she's still at the City".
"That's a shame, look I came over to drop this off for her, I should have actually gone into the repair bay and seen if she was there".
"They wouldn't of let you near her, they're keeping her under lock and key, so to speak, she's quite ill, they want her to get her rest, no excitement".
"That's a shame. Anyway this is just something I thought she'd like".
Carly smiled at the small ceramic cat.
"Oh, you're bleeding!"
Carly stated when she noticed his blood on her hand.
"Oh, shit! Sorry!"
He took out his hanky and carefully wiped off his blood, inadvertently wiping it into a small graze, although neither noticed.
"How did you do it?"
"Aaron dropped a glass this morning, he cut himself then I did when I told him it wasn't smart to try and pick up tiny fragments with your fingers".
"Kids ay?"
"Well I best be off, I know my missus has a nice casserole cooking for my dinner". He smiled, waved then headed off down the steps to his car.
Chapter Nine
Emma groaned as she looked out over the dark landscape, which surrounded Autobot City, or Metroplex, as he was known. First Aid entered with Perceptor, who was carrying the usual gift he brought her – a needle and tunicae. She groaned.
"How are we feeling today, Emma".
She glared up at Perceptor.
"Fine, now can I go home?"
"I'm sorry Emma, but you're really not well…"
She looked at First Aid as she cut him off mid sentence.
"Oh for the love of… Look, I feel fine, okay? Happy as Larry, box of fluffies and all that crap. Not to mention, all this blood you're piking from me, now that can't be healthy".
"It s a precaution".
"No, getting a smoke detector is a precaution, building a fallout shelter is a precaution".
"Emma. You may have a rather potent virus in your body, we need to keep checking your blood to make sure you haven't developed it".
First Aid suddenly stated.
"See, that wasn't hard, was it?"
First Aid raised the bed and Perceptor approached her to take the blood.
"Now Emma, the best thing you can do for yourself is to get some rest".
First Aid wagged his finger at her.
"I'd rather have a whiskey".
Chapter Ten
He slowly turned the doorknob of the back door he planned to surprise his wife. He entered the house and then realised something was wrong, as he smelt the casserole burning. He walked cautiously into the kitchen, placing his bag and a stack of papers on the counter, silently removing his gun from the holster, setting it to stun; the last thing he wanted to do was kill a member of his family.
Irregular flashing of a light coming from upstairs greeted him as he walked into the dinning room. A quick glance at his watch, it'd been two and a half hours, approximately since he called his wife to tell her he'd be later for dinner. Keeping close to the wall as he walked up the stairs, hoping he wasn't walking into some kind of surprise party. Reaching the top of the stairs, glanced left down the hall towards his room where the incoherent flickering originated. His footsteps were soft and deliberate as he walked cautiously until he reached the doorway, raising his gun; he took a soft breath in.
The fish tank was shattered on the floor; the water had drenched and would probably stain the delicate pearl carpet, his wife's pride and joy, next to her easy bake cookware. A figure was bent over the remains of the tank; the lights behind it were broken causing the irregular flashing. He aimed his gun at the figure.
"Alright, freeze!"
The figure slurred some form of speech and slowly turned to face him. Whatever it was vaguely resembled his stepson, but the face, it looked like it had been dead for months. The flapping fish fell from its oral opening, the creature hissed whilst pouncing towards the man. A shot was discharged from the weapon staggered back, stunned by the ineffectiveness of one of the most powerful weapons the Autobots could gift on humanity. Deep pain on his right shoulder pulled his concentration from the male creature, pivoting to see his wife bitting into his shoulder, twinges shot up his leg and he became aware of his little stepdaughter tearing flesh from his leg. A growl, and the sensation of sticky breath on his face brought his attention back round to it's original target. His eyes widened in fear, a scream tore from his mouth just as the creature tore into his face with jagged teeth
--
The night air caressed his face as he stood out on the veranda. It was about 11.30pm. How he loved to spend the night out here like this, gazing up at the stars through his telescope, the smart arse friend of his neighbour had once asked him if he looked into peoples' houses. He laughed politely and told the feisty red head that no, he didn't that that was rude and probably illegal. Smiling, he peered up at the Milky Way and then the northern star. Thinking of his wife, long since dead, how she'd come out with some tea and English crumpets and just sit and watch him gaze, sometimes she'd write down co-ordinates of things he'd noted or particularly liked to watch.
A pained whimper echoed loudly through the night's silent air. Not overly concerned, there were plenty of stray mongrels around, yet not wanting to risk it, and having finished for the night, he picked up his telescope and retired to the house. He was tired, feeling the sting of age he decided to go to bed. Closing the curtains in the dinning room gave him memories of his wife given that she had performed this task for the 68 years of their marriage. How he'd taken her for granted, more often then not it was the, as the cliché went the little things, like the ironing of his shirts. Reaching to pull the next series of curtains together; someone or something slammed up against the window. Shock caused him to call out, he staggered back, his mind telling him to fetch his gun, the one he must of killed many a Nazi. Making it to the door of the dinning room before the thing finally managed to get through the window, alerting him to it's presence as the glass shattered inwards, pouring over the aged mahogany table. It dived for him, tackling the old man by the legs and bringing him down through the small wooden table that the phone rested upon. The old man, winded attempted to gasp for breath as he faced the carpeted floor, something tore into the back of his skull.
He had been a warrior.
He understood death.
Recognised it.
And it was true what they say, his life did flash before his life.
His beautiful wife. He saw her face.
How contented.