Title: As Red As My Paint
Rating: M
Genre: Horror/Drama
Pairings: Mentioned Knock Out/Breakdown
Universe: Prime
Warnings: Violence, gore, torture, medical horror, character death, and other nsfw material.
Based off of Season 2 Episode 19: The Human Factor
Songs of Inspiration:
"Girl With One Eye" by Florence + the Machine
"Zydrate Anatomy" by Repo! The Genetic Opera
"Harbinger" by Damage Vault
Summary: The one and only time he didn't mind his finish being ruined. It would be worth it in the end.
Author's Note: Season two, episode nineteen of Prime is probably my favorite episode of the entire series so far. It was such a nice treat to see a more volatile side of Knock Out, and seeing Silas being dragged away by the vehicons just got me so riled up, you know? I've actually been working on this for months but could never write it the way I wanted to. This is one of my favorite genres to write for, and sometimes writing it can be difficult when you can't find the right words or good ideas. Taking anatomy classes have helped as well, although, I did take that class a year ago, so most of this is probably not accurate. I've also decided to split this into two chapters, but I will warn you, I am horrible at updating. So it may be a while before you get the second installment. I'm also not happy with the ending to this, but you know what, whatever.
I've been writing to write more anyways, but I've actually been very busy lately. I'm trying to keep my grades up and of course, my job. My family and I have been trying to move but finding it very difficult with all of these setbacks, what with the ten inches of fucking snow we just got hit with, but hopefully we'll be able to move in to our new home soon. I also have a new girlfriend so I've been very busy with her as well.
Okay, enough of this long ass author's note. Go on and read, my pretties!
As Red As My Paint
He woke up in a room he didn't know. He didn't even remember passing out. All he remembered was the electric shock of the Decepticon Medic's prod and the hands of the Eradicons dragging him off to only God knows where.
His head was pounding. He tried to bring his hands up but found them they were bound to the metal table by energon cables. He struggled, but found it to be no use. The cables began digging into his wrists and ankles and his body's protoform was being torn raw.
He banged against the metal to try and free himself, but to no avail. He heard doors slide open and close and the soft sound of pedes against the metal floor.
"Hello, Silas. I'm glad to see that you're finally awake. I'd hate for you to miss my presentation. You're the guest of honor, you know."
His one optic widened in fear as he watched he watched the red mech walk over to the dissection table. He squirmed under his gaze, the medic's optics burning into his mind. He turned his helm away in hope that he'd go away.
He felt a taloned servo harshly grab his chin and forced his head to face him. He trailed sharp digits along scars and gashes along his face plates. He let go and turned, walking to the other side of the room. Silas took this chance to close his one optic and turn his helm away again. He heard metal on metal originating from the area where the medic was standing, gathering tools and such for the event to come.
He couldn't mistake the leer in his optics. It scared him. It was full of happiness and joy, an innocent yet insane gaze that sent shivers of intense fear up his spine. He had seen it many times before from the individuals in his organization, or former.
Feeling the overwhelming sense of power when he had been awoken in a reanimated carcass of the off-lined Cybertronian they had discovered in the forest a few months prior, he felt like a god among mortals and was easily overcome by sensation of intense sovereignty that was now in the palm of his hand. He felt as if he no longer needed his men, and murdered those who fought to save his life; he massacred them all as if they never mattered, and to him in that moment, they didn't.
That sensation, however, had completely abandoned his body as the vehicons dragged him away from the bridge. He had been so high and mighty, and oh how far he has fallen. Now, he was powerless, proven incompetent by the Decepticons, and was scheduled to be dissected and studied by their medic for quote-unquote research purposes, but he knew better than that.
He was guilty of similar charges.
He knew this, and in the past, he didn't care. But now, it seems that karma has finally caught up to him in the worse way possible.
He was brought out of his inner musing and turmoil when he heard a hard clang and a large metal object hit the side of the table. He looked over to the medic, eyes wide with fear. He looked down to see that a metal cart had been kicked against the metal table, causing it to vibrate slightly.
Pedes sounded against the metallic floor and became louder as he came closer and closer. He fought the urge to look up, but lost and moved his head to stare at the white faceplates of the Decepticon medic. His digits traced over the scars once more before trailing down to his chest plates, tapping twice before turning to the metal cart he had violently kicked over only a moment ago.
His optics scanned over the various tools and gadgets that littered the cart, as if deciding on which to use first. He turned back towards the table once more before shrugging his shoulders and brought out his rotary saw from his hand.
The look on his patient's face was absolutely gorgeous, and his begging was music to his audio sensors.
"W-wait! Don't do this! I'll do anything!"
The smile faded from Knock Out's face.
"Why should I listen to you? You didn't listen to Breakdown."
"P-please! Stop! I'll-"
"You'll what? What could you possibly have or do that would prevent me from slicing you into pieces?"
He didn't answer.
"That's what I thought."
When the saw cut into his metal golem, he screamed. Not in pain, but in fear. He had lost. He never lost. But now, he came to realize that he had been defeated by the very beings he wanted to become. This is the one and only time Silas lost, and he only felt sorrow and agony. He knew that he truly deserved his fate, but he'd never admit it. Oh no, that would show weakness, and Silas was not a weak man. But one would think differently if they saw him sobbing and pleading for his life to be spared by a giant alien robot from planet so far away, who wanted nothing more than to splatter his blood across the steel walls the medical bay and use it to paint a mural on every flat surface he could reach.
He noticed that the high-pitched squeal of the rotary saw had ceased, and everything around him grew silent. Then, he heard scratching as Knock Out's sharp fingers pried into the cut he had formed across his golem's upper chest plates. He winced at the sharp shriek of metal tearing and crunching, and he looked up, tears running down his scarred face at the shiny white faceplates of the Decepticon medic.
If he weren't in his current state, he would have seen his smile as delightfully sinister, but here, in the medical bay of the Decepticon warship, strapped down to a berth with and insane alien robot with such intense crimson optics looking wickedly down upon him as he lay in his robotic golem, about to be dissected and used as an experiment, just like he had done to one of them... his smile was frightening.
They had remained in silence for a few moments when the medic finally broke the tension between them and brushed his fingertips down Silas' front. He only felt the wind created by the movement. The medic didn't want to apply too much pressure to his light and delicate skin before he would enact the main event. He tugged lightly at the cables keeping the fleshling inside of his deceased partner, and the weak wiring snapped at the slightest pressure Knock Out subjected them to. He expected no less; such primitive earth technology.
His face had gone blank, but as he looked to down to see Silas watching his every move, he couldn't help but let his lips curl into a sinister smile. He had waited for this day ever since Silas had first dissected his blue friend, and now, he had the perfect opportunity to get his revenge and return the favor. When the last cable snapped, he gently slid his fingers between Silas and the inner plating of the metal golem, and slowly removed him from his casing. The man tensed, and everything around them was silent.
Silas could only stare at the Decepticon medic as it felt as if the other's bright red optics burned right through his very being. He didn't even notice that they were moving until he was dropped down onto a different medical table. He felt the table rattled as the medical cart had been kicked again by Knock Out, and he heard the sound of his pedes making their way over to him. He knew escape was futile, but that didn't stop him from trying.
He pushed himself up to his feet and tried to make a break for it to the edge of the steel table, but his legs buckled. His accident before this with Optimus Prime and his poor attempt at replicating a Cybertonian had rendered most of his body useless with out his metal puppet. As he struggled to recapture his breath, he felt two sharp talons pierce the skin on his left leg, and he was dragged back towards the medic. He didn't go without a fight, though. Despite the sharp and intense pain he felt in his left calf, he kicked and screamed, and dug his nails into the metal plating of the table. The metal, however, was too thick and strong, and his fingernails were ripped off. Blood streaked the plating as Silas was pulled to the middle of the table, and was turned on his back, a sharp hand holding him down.
Knock Out was mindful of the pressure he placed on the human. He wanted nothing more than to squash him like the weak and disgusting rat he was, but he had other plans. Squishing him would be too easy, too quick, and not painful enough. What he had in store would do just the trick.
"Now Silas, you really should no better than to run. You'll only make this harder on yourself."
"You should take your own advice."
His faceplates were blank as he stared at the human that was pinned underneath his servo.
"... How do you know about that?"
"Your friend told me. You know, fight or drive? You always chose drive."
Knock Out pushed a finger into the puncture wounds on Silas's leg. He relished in the wonderful screams that escaped his throat, and twisted his finger to dig deeper into the soft flesh. Normally, he would of cared about the organic fluid that stained his medical table and fingers, but right now, considering the circumstances, he didn't care about that at all.
He also found the color to be truly delightful.
"You're so small and fragile and weak that I don't even need my medical tools to cut you into pieces. All I really need are my fingers. Shame you humans don't have servos like us. You'd be so much more capable of protecting yourself with out those primitive weapons."
To render him completely immobile, Knock Out dug his finger into the human's other leg, letting him cry out in agony as his legs became completely useless. He felt the medic's blood-stained fingertips pull at his clothing, and he dragged the tip down, ripping the clothing fibers. The clothing around his torso was violently ripped away, and those sharp tips came dangerously close to his skin. They lightly brushed against his chest, only enough to leave white marks on the top layer of his skin.
His breath hitched and his eyes began to water again. There really was no escape. His fact was carved in stone, and he knew he deserved it. He'd never truly admit it, though. He never imagined going out like this. Then again, who imagines a death in which they are dissected by a giant, not to mention insane, robot doctor? He certainly didn't.
Silas heard the medic exhale, and his attention was turned back to the massive fingers above his torso. They moved closer to his body, and his couldn't help but cry out and plead.
"Please, have mercy!"
"Never."
Knock Out let his forefinger break the surface of the human's skin, letting blood trickled out of the diagonal gash he made on the upper left side of Silas' torso. He made another on the other side, and where the two cuts met at the center of his chest, he dragged the tip of his finger cut a long and deep into the human's flesh, the loud, piercing scream being music to his audio sensors.
He gently slid his fingers between the cuts, and pulled them apart. The skin flapped over and Knock Out stuck two tiny needles into them, preventing them from moving in any direction.
And now, the main event could begin.
The medic pulled himself back from the human, and let his optics wonder at his current work. He eyes looked to his open torso, and studied. The white ribcage that kept all of his internal organs in place, the inflation and deflation of his lungs, and the sternum where the rib bones branched from, and the light sound of his heart pumping blood throughout his body. His optics trailed down to his lower intestines, the tight coil of his small intestine and the long tubing of his large intense.
Knock Out had taken some of his leisure time to study Earth biology and anatomy, just for his momentous occasion.
He wondered where he should start first. He shrugged his shoulders, and started with the lower region of the human's torso. He hooked his finger into Silas' small intestine, and slowly pulled, adoring the scream of pure agony that came from the human. He yanked, and the organ left the fleshling's pain-ridden body. He was surprised how long it was when stretched out, and not in a tight little coil as it had been previously, cuddled with the larger intestine in the human's middle abdomen.
He let down the fleshy tubing, and pulled at the large intestine. He ignored Silas' scream of anguish and agony as yanked it out of his body as well, laying it down beside the other tube made of organic human tissue.
Oral lubricant dribbled from Silas' mouth, which he had learned was called saliva on this planet. The liquid drooled down his face and pooled beneath his head. He was gurgling and panting, and looked to be in what he imagined, unbelievable pain. But Silas' pain could never compare to the agony and sorrow he experienced when he felt Breakdown's spark die, and their bond was snapped.
"Puh-please, stop. Just kill me—Please!"
"Patience, my pet. We're almost done..."
He poked at the vertebrae, slipping his fingertips between to pinch at his spinal cord. The human yelped in sharp pain. He knew what the spinal cord was used for and what it could do. He was mindful to pressure points, for if he pressed the wrong one, he could render his patient paralyzed and unable to feel the delicious torture he was forcing him to endure.
Silas twitched violently as he pulled his fingers away. The sclera of his eyes were a tinted pink, and large, wet tears fell down his cheeks. He could see dried tear stains, and drool leaked out of the corners of his mouth. He panted and gagged every so often. This pupils were tiny, and he stared at the ceiling, refusing to even look at the Decepticon medic.
He heard the medic hum slightly, then began folding the flaps of his skin back, stitching them together in probably the worst job any one had ever seen. Silas used the rest of his strength to pull his head up.
"Wh-what are you doing? I thought you said we were done; that you were going to finish me off!"
He heard the medic laugh, and fear shot through his entire body.
"Now Silas, I never said that. I said that we were almost done... for today. We'll continue our little session tomorrow, after I am able to study the samples you have so generously given to me, and receive some much needed rest. Don't worry, it'll all be over in due time."
Then, he walked away. Silas used the last of his reserved strength to lift his head and scream.
"You fucking whore!"
He stopped. Time seemed to come to a slow stop to Knock Out as his processor registered the rude insult that disgusting human threw his way. He wanted nothing more than to turn and rip him apart, but that would come in due time. However, he would never allow a dirty flesh bag to get away with calling him such things.
He turned and walked over, staring at him, processor going mad at the smirk that Silas was giving him, wishing he could rip it off... now there was an idea, for later of course. He still wanted to listen to the beautiful screams his little experiment let out every time the knife dug into him, every time his internals were yanked from his body, every time he looked into his gleaming eyes.
The decepticon medic pondered for a moment, before moving his fingers to Silas' ankle.
"Wait, what are you doing?!"
"Just a moment, my dear. This will only take a second."
Knock Out had learned about a tendon, things that keep muscle to bone on humans, and a very particular on the back of human ankles that could hinder a fleshling's ability to walk. With one slow drag, he sliced the achilles heel, adoring the sound of agony and pain his little pet let loose.
"There, all done. You should really no better than to insult me, Silas. Next time, I won't be so nice."
The man panted, his throat aching and dry, his voice hoarse from screaming.
"I fucking hate you. I fucking hate you so much."
"I feel indifferent towards you."
Then, he turned and left, leaving Silas to soak in a puddle of his own blood, drool, and urine.