*cough*
One-shot. Uh...warnings I guess. Dark I suppose. Non-graphic torture, psychological or otherwise, alongside killings in a similar non-graphic manner. And the steady degradation of a mind. Yup.
I'm tired...please enjoy.
He tried to keep his mind wandering, busy, distracted, anything to make the flaring pain ravaging his body more bearable.
Not that what his mind found itself focusing upon was any sort of comforting in and of itself.
It seemed as though the war had been won. For a good few years the war was over, his faction had won. Everything had been peaceful for a good while.
Then in the blink of an eye it was gone. All of his hard work was gone-dead.
In hindsight perhaps he should have expected such rebellion, but even then, he couldn't have possibly grasped the mere concept of the sheer destruction his enemy would have caused him.
So now, who knows how long after losing that hard fought battle here he sat, chained to floor, and beaten to near death once again.
He couldn't even rely on the embarrassing hope that someone would come for him. If his enemy was to be believed, all of his commanding officers had been slaughtered. Any other stragglers that miraculously made their way here from the stars would surely meet the same fate.
He sighed, proving that it was nigh impossible to find any sort of physical comfort. The action left him with his aching chest in even worse shape. Not that his empty, previously purged tanks helped his chassis feel any better.
Energon. He needed Energon, desperately, now. He wasn't bleeding out or anything like that-his enemy seemed to favour his bare fists and blunt objects-but in order for his body to heal itself properly it needed to intake Energon.
If there was one thing he could rely on his cruel enemy to do it was keeping him alive, and in relatively good shape. His enemy liked seeing his powerful frame, helpless and crumbling beneath him.
As if on queue, the previously locked door clicked and opened. Light poured into the otherwise dark cell. This effect was dampened however, by the shadow of his enemy.
The deranged mech walked towards him with a blue cube in his hands.
"Hello again, pet." Every syllable was dripping with a sadistic, mocking edge. His enemy was prodding him, daring him to make a move. The use of the degrading title made that fact all too clear. However, he had quickly come to realize that retaliation would only be met with more pain, making the Energon in his enemy's hands utterly useless.
He had learned to push aside his pride. His own life was worth far more.
It was for that very reason that he chose to bite his tongue and hang his head in submission.
His enemy chuckled and bent down, holding the cube out in front of him.
He raised his head and took the outstretched fuel from his enemy's hands. He was met with more chuckling, and a hand running across his head. He shuddered.
"Don't worry, pet," His enemy spoke. "Drink all you like. I have something very special planned for you today."
He shuddered some more. His enemy sounded far too excited for this 'something very special'. It could only mean more pain for him.
He tried to drink the Energon slowly, as if to delay the pain that was sure to come soon. However, the cube was empty before he knew it and his enemy was unlocking the chains tying him down, and keeping him in one place. His wrists and ankles were still locked together, and he was soon being pulled after his enemy. Still too weak to put up any sort of meaningful resistance, he followed limply.
"Come along then, Megatron."
...
His enemy led him through the dark, empty corridors of his old base, New Kaon, a shell of what it once was. Just as Megatron found himself reminiscing, they had reached their destination.
It looked to be Shockwave's lab. Everything was covered with a thick layer of dust from the lack of care, but there was little doubt in Megatron's mind that everything in there still worked.
His enemy pointed to one of the berths.
"Up here." he spoke.
Megatron remained frozen where he was. His enemy wanted him to lie on that berth, which already had the wires connected to the wall and the main console. It was all too clear what was to happen to him, and Megatron had no intention of having the cortical psychic patch open up his mind to the shattered psyche of his enemy.
"Come now, pet." his enemy commanded, one of his eyes already beginning to twitch dangerously.
With what little strength of both body and will Megatron had left he made a mad dash towards to the exit. Not even a second later did he find himself regretting his decision.
One moment he was making a beeline for the door, the next moment his sight was flashing red and white from the pain of having his head smashed in against the cold metal walls.
Dazed and practically unable to move, Megatron felt his enemy haul his limp frame up on the berth he had pointed out earlier.
"I thought I had beat the resistance out of you," his enemy said as he prepared the patch. "Oh well, I suppose I'll just have to engrave that lesson into the depths of your mind."
Megatron gave a feeble groan in response. He stared up at his enemy. He took in the faded red and blue and crazed light in his eyes. The overall shape of his frame may have remained the same but the way he currently held himself and with his expression permanently twisted from insanity, Optimus Prime was left completely unrecognizable.
"Yes yes, love. I know, he will suffer more this way, it will be just as you say." Primus, he was talking to the air again. It was most unsettling to see one the most level headed mechs Megatron had ever known, talking to beings that didn't exist.
"Alright, here we are. Let us begin." Optimus proclaimed as he raised the patch connection cord and made his way over to Megatron's head.
Megatron clenched his fist in preparation for the upcoming events. So far, he had been beaten, bruised, and tortured in just about every way anyone could possibly imagine. Throughout all of that he remained determined to keep a tight hold onto his sense of self. He was not going to break underneath the heel of his enemy.
One day, certainly, he was going to find a way out just as Optimus did, and he would surely extinguish his spark. He was not going to make the same mistake twice, in not killing him immediately.
He refused to give in to this insanity driven shell.
This he vowed, as Lord of the Decepticons, the almighty-
Who am I? He found himself asking this question again and again. The more he tried to search through his memories the more he found himself asking this question. Most of it was a complete, and utter blank.
The first, and only concrete memory that he possessed was waking up on a medical berth of some sort alongside his...master.
That's what the strange mech had told him to call him. For some reason he was unable to recall, calling the mech 'master', resulted in a fierce flame of rage within his spark.
He evidently hated this mech, but he continued obeying him. It was certainly better than the alternative. The rewards he was given provided even more incentive. Fuel and-relatively-gentle handling.
This treatment slowly but surely chipped away at the hate, steadily replacing it with a sense of compliance and loyalty. Before long he had begun leaning into his 'master's' touches and eagerly taking the fuel from his hands. All the while his 'master' chuckled ominously, continuously muttering about how far he had fallen or something along those lines.
Anytime he inquired about this, he was met with a threatening grin and a vague response.
"You were a much different person once, but none of that matters now. You are mine now, that is all that matters."
And so it was left at that. He wouldn't question his 'master'. Not even when his 'master' brought him back to the medical berth where he had first awoke and made him endure horrible pain. Not even when his 'master' would have him watch, as he brutally tore apart and devoured another living being, leaving him with an order to clean the remains. Not even when his 'master' would suddenly turn away from him, begin screaming at shadows, and tear at his own self.
No matter, more often than not, he was content belonging to his 'master'.
Hungry hungry hungry. Obey obey obey.
It had become increasingly difficult for him to form coherent thoughts. Only the barest form of instinct and intelligence filled his mind nowadays. It was an increasing struggle to focus his mind, what little of it remained.
All he knew, all he felt that he needed to know, was to obey his master. Do that, and his master would reward him.
And that was what his entire world consisted of. Obey master, receive reward, rinse and repeat. He didn't notice, let alone care about the fact that his master's face seemed had begun losing most of its flesh and was covered with scars that were constantly increasing in number. He didn't notice, let alone care about his master's increasingly animalistic behaviour. In fact, he didn't notice, let alone care about a lot of things lately. His master was to be obeyed, nothing else was important.
Although, he did notice when others noticed him.
Like one day, his master had brought him up to the open throne room. After assuring the people he couldn't see that he was completely tame, he was left by the throne's side until his master returned with a new prisoner in hand.
That much he was able to comprehend before his mind set itself back into the realm of incoherence.
"By the Allspark," the prisoner exclaimed. "Lord Megatron!"
No answer. Who was this prisoner talking to anyways?
"My lord, it is I Cyclonus, one of your trusted generals!" the prisoner continued.
The prisoner inched closer to him, and only then did he turn towards him. He looked at him, and Cyclonus' hopeful expression morphed into one of terror when he didn't see an inch of recognition in his master's eyes.
He took in the prisoner's face as much as he could manage, and realized that maybe he had seen that face before, but once the effort to recall it became too great he turned away from the stranger.
Then he heard his master laugh.
"You deranged waste of metal!" Cyclonus screamed. "What have you done to him?"
"Ah," Optimus spoke, tilting his head. "I've carried out his punishment of course."
"Punishment?"
"9 million years of war, our home planet dead, millions of our kind dead or scattered to the stars, never to be found or properly put to rest. It's all his fault. All of it...all of it is his fault. His fault...he will suffer. I have punished him. This shall be his eternal punishment. He belongs to me now. He knows that."
"Lord Megatron would never submit to one like you!"
Optimus' gruesome face broke into an ecstatic grin, Cyclonus could feel his frame shiver at the sight. The Prime was a complete and utter psychopath. What had happened?
"Oh, but he does," Optimus pointed to his pet. "Come."
Automatic recognition. He instantly stood up from his spot and made his way over to his master, completely ignoring the prisoner gawking at him in disbelief.
"Nothing but obedience. Unlike many of his very own, previous officers, he needs no reminders of who the master of his world is." His master pointed his finger to the ground and he knelt at his feet without hesitation. Optimus in return rested his hand on his pet's lowered head.
"No...it cannot be."
His master chuckled as he pulled out an Energon treat, and put it in his outstretched palm.
He gleefully lapped it up.
"Haha...now, as for you," Optimus turned to Cyclonus, who had momentarily forgotten his captor as he stared in wide eyed and slack jawed horror at the Decepticon lord pressing his lips against the Prime's foot.
"Hm, what do you all think?" Optimus turned to his side, where there was no one to be seen.
"Ah yes I agree...indeed, a slow and painful death should suffice as his punishment."
"W-what?" Cyclonus stammered, snapping out of his stupor.
"Execution by the Prime's hand. Some would consider that an honour. Now..." Optimus cupped his prisoner's face in his hand and leaned in close. "Do feel free scream as loud as you like."
As his master tore the prisoner apart he watched, uncaring for a few moments before his shattered mind lost interest and drifted off.
Anywho, he found himself settling upon that name the prisoner kept shouting.
Megatron...
Megatron...
Megatron...
I am...
"Come."
Gone. The first clear train of thought he had had in a long time was gone, shattered, by his master's voice. He practically tripped over himself as he made his way over to his master's side.
His master stood up, body twitching and shaking, and heavily stained with the fresh blood of his latest kill. He pointed to the unrecognizable remains on the floor.
"Clean."
There. An order. A clear order to be focused upon and followed. With that, his master turned and left, leaving him to carry out his task.
What had he been thinking about? Never mind, it couldn't have been important. Not more important than an order from his master.
He found himself smiling as he strode forward to begin his current task. Nothing else bothered him.
What bliss this was.
Obey obey obey...
*cough*
I'm actually really proud of this one. I edited this. Most of my long time readers would probably know this, but I never edit thouroughly, not like I did here. I honestly think that this is probably the best written thing I've done so far. Or maybe it's just bias. Whatever.
Anyways, if you didn't understand, this is a sort of companion piece to my other 'dark' story Torturous Insanity. All about Megs here. Hope you liked it, I recommend first time readers to go read that one for clarity on Optimus'...mental health.
...I'm really tired...
Let me know what you think, please! Comment and review!