A/N: When I listened to Children of Bodom, this was the plot bunny that came in mind. I think it went pretty well but I could be wrong.
Universe: a mixture of G1, TFA, and Movieverse
Warnings: extreme violence and gore, not for the faint of heart, rated T for a reason
Characters: Prow-centric
Disclaimer: I own niether Transformers or the song used, their respective creators do.
His servos clutched the fading spark of a fallen enemy. He no longer saw the difference between what was wrong or right, all his morals had been thrown out the door when he entered his maddened state. It mattered not if his victims where Autobot or Decepticon. He was just an enraged killing machine that slaughtered everything in his path. Driven into this state by the death of his sparkmate on the battlefield, he snapped.
Bright lavender energon dripped down his armor as he bathed himself in the blood of his fallen victims. He faintly heard their shrieks of pain as he slaughtered them without a thought. It never occurred to him that one of them could be his friend instead.
More ruby, Cybertronian optics stared into his, silently begging for mercy. The coloration mirrored the murderer of his sparkmate. He did not see his reflection within those optics. His spark clenched at the unconsious thought of that becoming that same monster. He snarled and plunged his servo deep into the bowels of the mech lying beneath him. He ripped out energon fuel lines and the fuel tanks of the mech, tossing them aside, and continued his attack on the innards of the mech. The mech yowled like a turbo cat in a fight with another turbo cat, his screeches could be heard all over the place. The nubs that were once full limbs waved violently around without purpose, splattering energon over his already painted face. A small part of him questioned whether it was logical to be doing this.
Others tried to take him down, yet a enraged monster could not be brought down that simply. Those attempted to subdue him found their limbs being torn out of their sockets. The gut-renching, shrill screech of metal filled their audios as swift doorwings were the last things they ever saw. Like a ninja cloaked in darkness, his speed and precsion were too swift for their optics to follow.
His glitched processor should have locked up when his sparkmate died, yet instead a haze clouded his processor and overrode the programming of the normal logic units. His carnal lust to slaughter, render, and kill became the only thing visible to him. It prevented his processor from running normally and like a Decepticon he gave in to baser programming, fulfilling his carnal desires.
He never realized that he could have been driven this far by not only death of his sparkmate but also a sudden lust to ravage everything in his path. The carnage left behind came as a reminder of insanity could do, he suddenly despised himself for thinking irrationally yet he felt somewhat at ease. Not only where his physical foes slain, the mental foes he had imagined were also destroyed in the final sweep. As his enemies fell around him, Prowl asked with a clear mind to the last body that dropped, "Are you dead yet?"