Hey guys! This is a new story, one that I may actually finish. J Hope you like it, and remember to R&R!

This chapter is basically the prologue, and gives us some background information about the main character. You'll find out her name and such in the next chapter. :3

Decepticons including Megatron, Blitzwing, and etc. © Hasbro

All others © Me

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I was once a normal girl, injured in a car accident. I had parents who understood me, three adorable younger siblings, and a cat that I loved wholeheartedly. We were all in the car that day, save for the cat, and we were singing together as we usually did, before it happened. Then we were screaming together. When it was all over, I had lost my sister, my only brother, and my father- not to mention my mind. I wound up in a psychiatrics ward in a white-walled room, seeing images of my dead father and my dead siblings walking about. It was terrifying when they got too close. I could practically see blood oozing out of their cuts, their eyes and jaws were missing, and bits of flesh were pulled away from their bones.

Every night I'd dream about our SUV, laying on its back, smoke and vapor winding their way into the sky and clouding it with a disgusting sight as well as odor. I was outside the wreckage of course, walking closer. As I approached, I would get down on one knee, steady myself against the crumpled mass, and peer through the opening wedged to the ground that was formerly the window. As I looked, I'd fall back in horror, discovering that everyone was a skeleton, all staring with empty sockets straight forward. As I crawled away, still facing the scene, their heads would slowly start to turn towards me. Then their mouths would open, and send forth a horde of locusts. It was horrible.

My mother finally removed me from the hospital one night. She told them that I had a wild imagination that it would sometimes get the best of me. I was only eight. As I looked behind us, I saw my brother, sister and father following. Father's face was peering over Mother's shoulder as she pushed the wheelchair, my brother was to my left with his bony hands on the arm rests, and my sister to the right, her empty eye sockets staring into mine. She said something, although I don't know what. Her breath stunk of death and decaying flesh, spilling onto my skin in short bursts with the words. As we walked out the door, they fell behind, standing in the entrance to the Emergency Room without emotion. Then they turned away silently, vanishing before they reached the nurses' station. Mother smacked me for staring at the large couple who had begun to walk through the doors.

Nothing was ever the same at home. The lights were always dimmed, the drapes shut, the windows and shelves dirty. Mother was often gone, leaving my sister and I at home alone. Often I was alone during the school year. My sister went to be educated while I stayed at home and worked. We lived that way up until my tenth birthday. It was a lonely existence and I often contemplated suicide. I knew where Mother went, her thoughts told me so, but I never confronted her. She would deny it. Her thoughts told me that, too. It seemed, though, that I could only read her mind. Try as I might, I could never read that of my remaining sister.

Finally, a day came when I awoke to an empty house. My family was nowhere to be seen, all the food was gone, and sheets were scattered over the remaining furniture that, which I assume, was too big to be carried with them. I sat by myself for quite a while, trying to decide what to do. I picked up my scrawny excuse of a cat, all that I had left, in one hand. In the other I carried a box of matches. Standing on my front porch, I felt pricks of hot tears. Lifting a stick tipped with red, I lit it and watched it burn down, almost until it touched my fingers. It held my prayers and hopes, to be sent to the god in which I knew now did not exist. With a last tear that rolled down my dirty face, I threw the match, watching as a tiny glow of fire spread up the front door and to the beams around it. The silver lion's head door ornament that Father had installed when I was first born glowed in the light and the flame that surrounded it. As I walked away, I could still feel the heat against my face- the dying memories.

As I walked I kept my cat with me. We had been through so much together, and she was the only reminder of the life I had once lived. I still had the terrible dreams about the car crash, of course, but usually they were clouded and instead had a face etched into the background. A strange symbol was marked on the foreheads of the skeletons, one that somewhat reminded me of a "V" shape, with two triangles attached to the sides. It was hard to explain, but it was a sign.

My cat and I kept on the move, never staying for more than two nights in one place, always looking for some kind of food to eat. I was often sick from eating raw meat or fish, and waking up in the middle of the night only to rid myself of nausea was not uncommon. With what money I could find, I bought a tooth brush and toothpaste to try to keep my teeth healthy so I could continue to survive. The nights were long, cold, and lonely, but I knew I had to keep going, even if it was tempting to just end it all. I'd often find myself using the cat as a blanket. She could find mice and rats to eat, so she had no problems adapting to our new on-the-run lifestyle.

For months we stayed on the move, walking all day, finding something to eat before bed, sleeping as much as we could before waking again with the early morning sun- or smog in some cases- and repeating the process. Finally, we reached Detroit, a bigger city than what I was used to, and one that I deemed far enough away from our home town to be considered safe. A new life was all that I wanted. Hell, I thought I deserved one, for all I'd been through. Almost dying, seeing dead family members follow me around for who knows how long, living alone in a house filled with horrible reminders of life before and being abandoned were all great reasons to start a new life, and by now I had managed to sink all of them under my belt.

I had wound my way into a bit of a problem, though. I had met a man whom had seemed quite well off in his life. He called himself The Scientist, and offered me a warm place to sleep, food in my stomach and clothes on my back in exchange for work. What could I say? I agreed and found myself whisked away to his laboratory, the inside covered in those strange symbols from my dreams, living there in terrible conditions. It's a stretch to say that I would have been better off in the streets, but it might as well have been. I was beaten and used as a servant, waiting on him hand and foot. There were others who served as slaves to him, as well. One whom I had befriended was called Rat. I found I could confide in Rat, that I could trust him, and we grew to be close friends. I had made a huge mistake.

I told Rat about my psychic abilities.

At first he didn't believe me, but as I began to pick up things from his own childhood out of my dreams, and reading small events from his future out of chicken bones and other worthless pieces of trash from the kitchen, he began to catch on. He began to ask me for advice on small situations. It didn't seem like a big deal, but over time, he asked me again and again for psychic endeavors, such as the winning horses in races, and the lucky lotto numbers. He was one of the special servants, sent out on trips to the outside world, as he was considered by The Scientist to be trusted. He would never betray the boss, as he got too many perks for being the 'pet', thus his name. I had been quite wrong about Rat since the beginning. He told The Scientist about my abilities, and from that day on, I was locked below the servant's quarters, forced to tell fortunes and see things at the drop of a hat. That didn't last for long, though. The Scientist was a braggart of sorts, telling lies to impress his higher ups. It turned out that he was working for Megatron, a leader of an alien robot race, and that he was in charge of inventing new combat methods for him. There was a complicated story behind all of it, and I didn't quite understand it all, but from what I heard, Megatron was a glorious and admirable leader.

I hated Rat now for exposing me in such a way, and I often wished that I had just ended it back when I was still at home with my mother and sister. However, I was almost always too hungry to think about what I could have done so many months ago. I had heard rumors, though, that The Scientist had let it slip that he had a psychic under his power: one that could do all sorts of nifty tricks, even mind control. I felt horrid, like an item of clothing or something- not to mention panicked. Megatron was asking for proof of his boasts, and that meant I had to do something. I couldn't use mind control- I'd never even heard of anyone being successful in the practice. I was worried that Megatron or The Scientist might kill me if I wasn't able to prove my abilities on the spot.

For my meager meal, they had given me some soup. It tasted delicious, but something didn't feel right. When I asked what it was, I was so horrified and heartbroken by the response I received that it physically made me sick.

It turned out that it was my cat.

That night, I had a dream that I was strapped onto a flat table, with another human holding a laser to the flesh on my right arm. When they had finished, they stepped away, revealing the new marking. It was the symbol of the Decepticons.

The day after, The Scientist entered my chamber. He slapped a thick strip of grey tape over my mouth, and bound my hands. Taking a knife, he slashed two large cuts on my neck. Emitting a muffled scream of agony, I fell onto my side. He raised his hand and began to punch, yelling at me to stand and to stop being a coward. I stood wearily, after being forced to sit in the dark for weeks, I was quite unbalanced. They led me out to a white utility van, where I was shoved into the back. The grey tape was replaced with a clear mask that was held onto my head by a series of straps. Hands still bound, I was powerless to defend myself, and I had no idea what was going on. Slowly, I drifted into darkness.

As I awoke back in the van, I found that the mask had been removed from my face. Rat stared down at me, a cold and wet rag in his hand. My face stung, and I assumed that he had been hitting me with it. He told me to get up, and forced me out of the vehicle. There was another utility van, behind ours, but I didn't recognize it. It didn't take me long to realize that we were in a cave of sorts. Mechanical equipment lay scattered everywhere, and dull grey computer interfaces stood out against even duller brown walls. Suddenly I saw the biggest creature I had ever seen. It was tall, with the symbol of the Decepticons stamped onto its chest. Two, what looked like gun barrels, stood erect from its back. Yet another instance in which I found myself seeing something that was far too hard to describe. It called itself Blitzwing.

There were several others. The largest of them all, known as Megatron himself, lifted me up to his face to examine me. Probably the scariest thing ever, honestly, being examined by a huge ass robot. He asked me what I could do, and when I told him, he requested a demonstration. Realizing that this was my moment to obtain revenge on Rat for all of the pain and emotional distress he had caused me, I glared at him. With all of my might, I imagined that I was in his body. When I tried to move my arm, it moved his, and anything that I tried to do, he did. I made him walk to the truck and grab the rag he had been holding earlier. He took it around his neck and squeezed. He stood there, squeezing, his face turning blue after a minute, then purple. Finally he fell upon the floor, unmoving. Extracting my control over him, I turned to face Megatron once more, surprised to find a somewhat startled, yet delighted expression upon his metallic features.

Long story short, my vision from my dream became reality. The second van held the equipment that was used to mark the flesh on my right shoulder with the emblem of Megatron and the Decepticons. Afterwards, I was forced to pledge my allegiances to the dark leader and to the destruction of the universe. I had found out later that I had accidentally killed Rat, but I honestly didn't mind. He got what he deserved.

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Thanks for reading! Chapter one is coming soon! :3