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The Predacon's Prey
Several Months Earlier…
Metallic wings thrust through the air, mastering the wind and defying the very laws of gravity itself as they held up such a tremendous weight in the clouds. Optics burned with raging intensity, telling of the fury that burned within him so hot he could feel the fire scorch the back of his throat where it had been summoned from the generator near his spark-chamber. His mandibles flared as he gnashed his teeth, the memories only fuelling the hot-anger.
His first hunt had ended abysmally, especially after such an energon-pumping start. His prey – whom he remembered his creator calling 'Autobots' – had tried to bury him alive in an energon mine when it had been made very clear that they could not best him in combat. But then they'd been abducted from his grasp by more of their filthy kind. His pursuit had gone well, for he'd almost broken apart their flying-small-ship in order to get to his prey. But they'd managed to dislodge him in a rather painful way by smashing him into the side of a canyon. By the time he'd managed to recover, the prey was long gone.
The Predacon snarled, the mere memory wounding his pride as he swooped through the air. With the Autobots gone, the only thing he could do was return to his creator, and the one he had been programmed with to recognise as 'Lord': the one known as Megatron. The Predacon didn't know how to feel about Megatron, for the mech had the unwavering aura of an alpha about him, as well as being like a predator in his own right. The Predacon knew he was programmed to recognise this one, but he would not bow to anyone. However, he respected Megatron as one of great power, and that was enough. He had no concept of loyalty or what to make of a faction, for it was his first day in the universe, having only been awoken from the tank-womb several hours ago. Everything about this world was fresh and a new experience to his senses; he could never remember doing anything before this, yet he seemed to know instinctively how to do certain things. Like flying, hunting, fighting… It was all so much to take in at once.
The dragon-form swooped through the skies, coming in low over the forests that rustled in the wind, whispering a thousand tongues the Predacon did not understand but still enjoyed to listen to. It seemed to sooth his mind a moment, which was yet another new experience as he had felt no emotion equal to calm in the several hours he had been conscious. The moonlight silhouetted his metallic shape, and he basked in the glow of it, his black armour-plating allowing him to melt back into the darkness of shadows just as easily if he so wished. The world was silent and dark, and although it felt very different – or perhaps it was he that was different, being a creature of metal in an organic world – he still felt a part of it, as if this were his kingdom, and belonged to him just as it did the native organisms here.
As he cleared the trees and came beyond the forest, heading in the general direction of Megatron's fortress, the Predacon came across a long, straight strip of stone on the ground below. It was what his information processors called a 'road'. His creator had thought to upload onto his brain all the information he would need to survive, such as land formations, brief data on the native species of this planet called 'humans', as well as the layout and terminology of the immediate area and landmarks. It was rather useful in incidents such as now.
But as he flew onwards, not paying the road a second thought, the Predacon thought he spotted something, and turned his head back to look as he narrowed an optic onto what he had seen.
A human was walking alone along the road. Young, skinny, wrapped in loose fitting yet threadbare clothes, with a bag-pack on its back. Usually, this shouldn't have caused much of a concern to the Predacon, as his data-banks remembered the uploaded information that humans were rather abundant on this planet. However, considering this human was rather close to where he had fought his prey, and he remembered that the Autobots had had their own little pet human with them, the Predacon decided that this might require further investigation.
He swooped low, coming in upon his target fast but silently, as he held his wings out to glide on the air currents and allowed gravity to eventually pull him downwards. Something must have given him away, either the slightest creak of a valve or joint, or perhaps it had been a shift in the wind, or the feeling of eyes burning into its back, but the human turned at the last minute to see what was behind it. The Predacon only had a moment to take in a screaming face before he cut the sound off as he reared back and his hind legs scraped along the road with a loud screech and a flurry of sparks, before he pinned the human to the ground with a foreclaw. He was not gentle, but he still knew that a mere twitch could kill the fragile and pathetic rodent. His mandibles flared to reveal his gaping maw filled with large teeth as he screeched down at the human, his optics now able to take in its features.
The human was female, but a juvenile, as she seemed to possess none of the qualities that his data-banks registered as being a mature adult, such as the mounds of flesh on her chest and rear and the more prominent hips to accommodate a live offspring. However, the female possessed a tall and lanky body that suggested she was not an infant, and the fact that she was out here alone spoke of how she was not watched by adults attentively. She was a child, a sparkling, of similar age to the autobot's pet if he could remember it correctly. The human had pale skin, bright green eyes and brown-red hair. The creature was wailing and crying pathetically as it tried to scramble and wriggle out from under his hold, and the Predacon could see the stress levels rising within her chemical creation glands. He merely grunted at her as he tightened his hold, and the human gasped before whimpering loudly as she trembled in terror.
"Oh god!" The human wailed with a trembling lip, salt liquid gathering in her eyes as she looked about pleadingly. "Please! Please! Don't…"
She wasn't the human that had been with the autobots, despite being of similar age and gender and being close to the site of the battle. But she had seen him, and if he released her then she would tell others of her kind about him. Whilst he cared not of the threat of humans, for none of their weapons had the power to hurt him, he knew he would need the element of surprise for future attacks. If the girl told others of him then that surprise would be ruined. So it was decided: he would kill her.
He summoned flame from the generator in his chest, letting the red light travel up his throat to gather at the back of his mouth. When he opened his jaws, the red-orange light washed over the girl, promising flames he only had to unleash in order to spell her demise. She trembled violently, unable to move as she seemed transfixed on the light at the back of his mouth, her chest heaving with air, and his senses detected that her heart rate had just risen astronomically. But somehow, she managed to tear her eyes away from the brewing fire, and look straight into his optics.
"Please…" She whispered. "Please don't do this…"
She spoke as if he understood her – which he did – as if he were a self-aware and conscious being capable of making his own decisions – which he was. She spoke to him as if he were an intelligent being, capable of reasoning. This was more than he had ever received from the ones that he seemed to be aligned with, the ones who called themselves the Decepticons. They, including his creator and the Lord Megatron, had spoken of him as if he were not present, as if he were a dumb animal, especially the one called Starscream. The Autobots had treated him as if he were a mindless monster, even thinking that stupid and easy to spot tricks would deceive him. Both examples were enough to make his pride burn as fiercely as his anger. But this girl had treated him differently in all of twenty seconds. Perhaps it was only because she knew he held her life in his claws, or maybe she didn't even realise what she was doing. But still it made him pause for just a moment in order to give her the hard glare through a blazing yellow optic, to grant her a second longer to live.
And that was when he saw it.
Resting against her chest, tied around her throat by a piece of string, sat an emblem. It was of a snarling face of some form of green reptile, with a long snout and horns decorating the back of its head. It was green in colour but with fiery flame-like eyes. The necklace made the Predacon pause because he recognised it. It was incredibly alike to the insignia on his own chest: the symbol of the predacon species. Some instinct inside of him related the symbol to himself, and reasoned that perhaps it was something similar. It was not a coherent analysis, as he couldn't seem to find the words or thoughts to explain even to himself the feeling that pulled at his spark.
It was as if the symbol made him register it as kin. But that was impossible. This was an indigenous Earth life form, a human, an organic. Not a predacon or anything close to his own species. The very thought frustrated him that he would be so naïve as to think such a thing just because the creature displayed a symbol closely resembling his own.
Yet still that feeling in his spark would not dissipate, even if it was fading as his own reasoning began to work the problem over. He felt curious, and even more so confused by the reaction such a simple object could cause in him. And then there was the way the girl had spoken to him. Such a little thing… respect. It felt good to have that.
Perhaps the human's death was not warranted just yet. Perhaps she could serve him to fulfil his curiosity from this predicament. Or she could easily be used as entertainment, something for him to toy with to vent his frustrations on, she could even replace the satisfaction of killing the prey that had escaped him. Either way, her death would come eventually.
With that in mind, he readjusted his massive claws around the tiny human girl as he leapt into the air. The girl screamed with such a pitch and intensity that the Predacon was rather surprised that nearby glass was not shattering. But the Predacon was not exactly smooth or forgiving in his flight with his new passenger, and he soon heard the sounds of the human heaving as she tried to hold in her inner-fluids and pre-eaten organic sustenance. The Predacon ignored her for the most part, though he did recognise that she seemed to grow calmer when he levelled off and allowed his gigantic wings to catch the air currents and glide. Even when his sheer body mass and weight defied gravity itself as he soared on brilliant flame-coloured wings, his flight was ever smooth and graceful.
At one point he became aware that the human was shivering and trembling violently. His scanners in his optics indicated that her body temperature was becoming dangerously low and that her oxygen intake was less than it should be. It was all due to the high altitude and winds around them. The Predacon growled to himself, mandibles twitching, considering simply ignoring the problem. But then, what use would the human be to him if she died on the way to Megatron's fortress? He might as well just release her and let gravity kill her for him. So, with an exasperated snort, he lowered his altitude so that the wind wasn't as bitingly cold and the air was thick enough that she could breathe it easily. The reaction was immediate, as the human girl sighed and relaxed somewhat as her temperature slowly began to climb, though not fast enough to quickly reclaim her normal temperature. But it mattered not to the Predacon. He had done enough for the human already.
"Th-Thank you…" He heard the human whisper between chattering teeth as she huddled against his claws. He blinked his optics in surprise at hearing customary words of gratitude from the human. Didn't she realise she was his captive? Why would she thank him for merely allowing her to breathe?
He decided to ignore it, and focused his attention back onto his flight control.
"God…" The child whispered to herself, perhaps unaware that the Predacon could hear her even above the howling winds around them. "Taken p-prisoner by a robot dra-dragon. Tell me this is-is a nightmare…"
Perhaps she did know the gravity of her situation then. She was not as clueless as the Predacon would have first thought.
"Mom…" She whispered pleadingly.
And then she began to tremble and shudder, her chest heaving as a sound was ripped from her chest. But the Predacon's sensors indicated that her oxygen intake was at adequate levels, and the temperature was not so cold as to warrant such shaking. Turning his head slightly to glance at her with a befuddled optic, he spied her head buried in her hands as salt water leaked from her eyes. She was… 'crying' was the word his data-banks provided. This was something humans did to display a negative emotion, and the Predacon found it curious, even if the sound was rather irritating. After watching her for a moment to see if she would do something else interesting, he shook his head before concentrating back on his flight. When the sound of the human's weeping began to really annoy him, he simply shut off his auditory receptors.
Being a mechanical construct was useful in that regard.
It wasn't overly long until the shadow of Megatron's fortress, Darkmount, became visible on the horizon. The tower rose above the ground and reached into the sky as it pierced the clouds with its many spires. Its shadow loomed over the surrounding landscape, completely obliterating all that dared to flourish in its presence. It was an impressive sight to behold, and the Predacon now called it home, he supposed.
His optics spotted a form at the top of the tower, where the throne of Megatron was held. Without thinking, the Predacon flew upwards towards the fortress's peak, and saw the audience that was awaiting him. He landed, though perhaps a little heavier then he intended, as one back leg staggered slightly – the collision in the canyon had not been a kind experience. He recovered quickly, and placed his clawed foot on the ground, the human still held in his grasp though he didn't put enough pressure onto her to cause her any real harm. The human was panting, heart racing with terror as she looked around with wide green eyes. But the Predacon ignored her, instead focusing his optics on Megatron and the one known as Starscream.
"Your beast returns empty handed." Megatron stated darkly, clear dissatisfaction in his tone as he eyed said beast before glaring at Shockwave. The Predacon did not lower his gaze from the Decepticon Lord, refusing to surrender to any living Mech, though he did lower himself to the ground as his creator stepped forward in order to look over his dented back from the collision.
"Not quite, My Liege," Starscream smirked as he pointed a servo to the wriggling human in the predacon's grasp. Seeing the optics of the Decepticons on her, the human squeaked in fear as she trembled and huddled herself into as small a ball as she could with the Predacon almost squashing her. "It would seem the brute brought back a toy…"
"I will not have my base infested with organic filth." Megatron spat disgustedly. "Eradicate it."
Starscream made to point a rocket towards where the human lay, but the Predacon suddenly screeched, opening its mandibles to blare its sharp teeth in warning. Orange light shone at the back of its throat in preparation to fire at the Second in Command, and Starscream physically recoiled as he flinched.
"Predacons exhibit extreme possessive behaviour." Came the monotonous voice of his creator as he stepped forward, the one large red eye tilting up to Megatron in the form of an explanation. "It is logical to assume that the Predacon hunted for a toy. It will kill the human soon enough."
The Predacon snorted in agreement, and ignored the way the human was barely holding in sobs of fear as she heard every word that was spoken. Megatron stared at Shockwave, before glaring at the human pinned beneath the Predacon's claws, and nodded his head, expression still severely aggravated.
"Perhaps the mutt confused its true prey for the first thing it saw… it would not surprise me." Starscream offered with a mocking glance in the Predacon's direction, making the beast narrow its optics at the seeker, mandible lifting to reveal its fangs.
Megatron didn't respond to Starscream, instead only keeping his arms crossed as he stared broodily on as Shockwave continued his inspection of the new asset. The Predacon remained still, his processor registering an unspoken protocol that his creator was never to be trifled with. But the longer he suffered under Megatron's hard gaze the more the failure made the Predacon angry again.
"What a grave disappointment this must be for you Master," Starscream purred sympathetically, and the Predacon felt his optics twitch in anger at the mere sound of the seeker's voice. "And to make matters worse, because it cannot speak, we have no way of knowing why the predacon failed so miserably." Starscream then turned to look at the Predacon, a triumphant smirk plastered onto his face. "Poor, mute, mindless creature…"
The Predacon visibly shook with rage as he growled menacingly. The insults that wounded his pride made him want to reduce the cybertronian to molten metal. Hatred burned within the Predacon. He had not known hatred before, for it was difficult to obtain hatred when one had only been consciously living for only several hours. The autobots merely had his disgust and to be treated as any prey could be – little more than shells to kill. And yet, the Commander was awarded to be the first person the Predacon would ever hate, and that hate ran deep.
"I would not be surprised if the creature failed to possess the collective intelligence to even kill its puny human." Starscream rubbed in, either not noticing or ignoring the deathly glares he was receiving from the Predacon.
But that had been the last insult to injury. The Predacon reared its head back with a mighty scream of rage, his jaws lighting up with the orange glow of the flames inside of him. He wanted to charge and tear Starscream apart, but both Megatron and his creator were watching him warily, as if waiting for him to step out of line. The Predacon settled for hissing at Screamer, barely able to hold himself back enough, knowing that he didn't need to cause himself any further ill-faith from the Lord of the Decepticons.
But Starscream really wanted to see what he could do? Fine. He would show him exactly who he was dealing with, and then maybe the seeker might change his disrespectful attitude. No one would speak of a predacon in that way, least of all him, the cowardly moron. If Starscream truly doubted the Predacon could kill a human, he would prove them all wrong.
Snatching up the human in his claws as he stood, he quickly threw himself over the side of the fortress, opening his massive wings and soaring through the air. He would show them. He would show them the walls of the fortress decorated in human blood!