Author notes: This chapter just fell out of me. It involved a long bus ride and a notebook I had remembered to take with me. Joy for you, eh?
Warnings: Graphic torture. But that's why you're reading this, isn't it? ;)
Disclaimer: AHAHAHAHA! .... AHAHAHAHA! :D
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For today
We will take the body parts and put them on the wall
For treated indigenously, digenously,
Human right is pry the blue chip, pry
You will take the body parts
And put them up on the wall
And bring the dark disaster
-- "Dreaming", System of a Down
Mal Vu: Chapter Three
Everyone was dead. Body parts were strewn haphazardly around the ground, the dirt and grime that resembled a blank canvas was finger-painted with mech fluid and internal wires. The very sky seemed to be mourning, shadowy clouds dancing in front of a new moon.
The only living thing stumbled about on half formed canine legs; all four feet were gone, but the legs themselves remained intact. The open wounds leaked fluid with every jarring, pain-filled step, and the wolf whimpered and whined with every one. It was eager to get to it's goal, and would not stop until it did so.
A trail of silvery liquid was left in it's wake until it reached a disembodied black and orange head, the feminine face forever frozen in a final scream. The wolf whined loudly upon seeing the skull, what was left of it's front legs hugging the woman's head.
"Blackarachnia.." The wolf wept with a deep voice, falling in to sobs.
With a horrified shriek, Cheetor woke from recharge, shaking terribly.
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Tension made any attempts at recharge practically impossible. The nervousness, fear, and the promise of pain in the very near future left the two captured mechs unable to offline for more than a few cycles at a time. They hadn't even been there a full two solar cycles -- at least, according to slightly glitched internal clocks -- but it already felt like a vorn.
Despite the fact that the two were from complete opposite sides of a war -- a war now long gone and as dead as those that used to call this their base of operations --, there had been nothing more than base anger when they occasionally spoke to each other. Both were simply too tired and jittery to have the energy left to fight one another.
There had been several surprising attempts by the Predacon to start conversation. Why was not entirely clear, as none of the topics had had any merit or focus. Silverbolt came to the conclusion that the spider had either been attempting to distract himself from the situation as a whole or had simply lost his sanity from the stress and fear. He found himself understanding both possibilities. Still, he harbored deep hate for the caged transmetal and found himself simply unwilling to humor him.
"So.." There was yet another inevitable attempt, the spider jittering about in his transmetal beast form. "..What are you, exactly?"
"Excuse me?" Silverbolt blinked at the question, baffled; now, that was unexpected.
"Your beast form. Half wolf and half of what bird?"
"Why does this matter?" The fuzor rubbed his face, annoyed. Still, he let out a deep breath; perhaps if he answered, the spider would stop talking. "Falcon."
"Oh." It did appear to work; the spider clicked his transmetal legs against the bottom of his cage. Then, he twirled around in the cage for several seconds, apparently having lost focus again. After a little more than a breem, he stopped with a harsh suddenness. "Maximal, can you reach that?!"
Tarantulas's tone -- a deep, serious hiss -- is what brought Silverbolt out of his annoyed stupor. "Reach what?"
"That!" The spider was pointing to the pile of scrap pieces and body parts; the mess of metal was stationed closer to the fuzor's cage than the Predacon's. "The handle!"
"What handle?" Silverbolt stared at the scraps; except for the body parts, most of it looked the same to him. He was neither a scientist nor an inventor; one piece of metal may as well be the same as the next. "..The small one with the green line --"
"Yes!" Tarantulas hissed, transforming in to standard form as he did so. "Can you reach it?!"
Silverbolt frowned deeply; the spiders' tone gave the impression that whatever the handle was connected to was terribly important. So, he reached his hand through the bars, straining. The bars of the cage pressed hard against his shoulder, and he gritted his teeth in pain, pushing against the bars and stretching as far as he could go. Just as he thought he wouldn't and couldn't reach it, the tips of his fingers grabbed hold; the handle was ribbed just enough to allow his fingertips to pull it enough to grab it. A good deal of the metal and body parts that had been on top of the device tumbled and fell in to the nearby lava, melting in to disintegration.
He grinned before he really knew what he had, and the smile vanished once he looked at the small device. "..A screwdriver?"
"Yes!" Tarantulas cheered. "It can open the door!"
The cages had a small door in each one that can be opened up; the door itself was made up of the bars on one entire side, held shut with a digital password-keyed lock. "The lock is digital --"
"Not the lock, you idiot!" The spider hissed, resembling his old self. "The hinges!"
Silverbolt's optics widened in sudden understanding; he jumped for the side of the cage with the door, feeling for the hinges that allowed the door to open and close. The lock might have been sophisticated, but the hinges themselves were still held together with old-fashioned bolts. He wasn't the most graceful of mechs, but he took great care to get the simple screwdriver in to the screws to twist them apart.
Somehow, he was thoroughly surprised when the first bolt jolted free and fell to the lava below. The sight of it and everything it signified renewed him with vigor and the other four bolts quickly followed. The entire door soon fell, hitting the blazing magma in silence, muffled by the lava itself.
The fuzor grinned widely; he no longer had his wings and was missing a talon, but he could still leap. He put the screwdriver in his mouth, biting on the handle; he did not trust himself to safely jump to the other side while holding the small piece of equipment without losing his grip or the device in question. He balanced for only a few seconds before inhaling deeply and making the jump.
He landed with inches to spare, wincing as he tried to get up on one leg. Silverbolt turned to look at Tarantulas, balanced carefully again, and leapt; both hands and his remaining talon clung to the bars of Tarantulas's cage.
"What are --" The spider sputtered, watching the fuzor wrap his arms around the bar and taking hold of the screwdriver to let loose his own cage door. "..Why are you helping me?"
"I am not a Predacon." Silverbolt stated proudly. "I'm not so low and craven as --"
A loud, familiar creak interrupted him. He paused, freezing in terror. The first bolt hadn't even been unscrewed, yet! Terrified silence reigned for only a moment.
"Run..!" Tarantulas sputtered. "Get the Maximals, run!"
Silverbolt slammed the screwdriver on the floor of the spiders' cell and leapt back to the main level. A quick transformation in to his beast form was made before he dashed off. In his robot form, he had one leg to balance on; his canine form still had three.
Despite the fact that wolves were ordinarily swift animals, having talons instead of front paws caused quite a number of problems when running was involved. Avian claws were not made for the repeated and quick force on the ground that Silverbolt now demanded of it, and missing one entirely hampered him further. The shoulder connected to his remaining front leg ached terribly with every bound, but he pushed himself as fast as he could possibly go. There was simply no other option.
He was halfway through the Predacon base when he heard the furious roar; he nearly stumbled from the shock alone.
"Get back here!" Well, Rampage certainly noticed he was gone.
"Primus..!" A prayer as he ran, pushing himself hard. His intake shuddered more than once, threatening to offline him from the exertion alone; just as he thought he would faint and never see the light of day again, he turned a random corner and found the exit.
Unfortunately, there was no light; the ash and soot from the nearby volcano blanketed the entire area in a soft fog. Granted, it was brighter than inside the Darksyde, but it was not the clear blue sky that the fuzor dreamed of flying through.
The volcano also proved another terrible distraction; unlike the inside of the fallen ship, the ground was no longer straight and smooth metal, but now ragged and uneven terrain. Dirt, rocks, broken hills and rivers of boiling magma littered the floor; without his wings to rely on and forced to run with a missing leg, he was slowed down dramatically.
Silverbolt had gotten perhaps thirty feet out when Rampage tore through with a violent cacophony of tearing metal and flying debris. The crab's beast form came equipped with secondary tank treads, practically made for the uneven environment; where the fuzor was slowed, the transmetal's speed actually increased.
He realized it with jarring freight as a monstrously large claw grabbed his back legs. Silverbolt flailed, clawing with his remaining talon and even biting with canine jaws in absolute terror.
Rampage laughed in sheer glee. "Yes, feel the fear! Let the terror --" Something slammed in to his head from the back, and he dropped the flailing wolf. "-- Gah!"
"Run!" Tarantulas shrieked, tumbling on his arachnid back for a moment before twisting upright, wheels erupting from his undercarriage.
Silverbolt struggled to his feet; he hadn't expected Tarantulas to zoom out the exit with cycle-like wheels on his underbelly -- and, apparently, neither had Rampage. He hadn't even known the spider had a vehicle mode! Shaking off the sudden surprise, the fuzor stumbled to his three legs to run again.
Rampage only laughed; he simply grabbed the back wheel and back legs of Tarantulas's fame before the spider could dash off. Said spider shrieked as he was shaken violently through the air and thrown right back through the hole Rampage had made only minutes ago. He did not come out of the hole again.
The large crab tumbled forward on his treads, grabbing the escaping fuzor before Silverbolt could get much farther and tossing him back as well. The intent had been to throw him in the same manner and direction as Tarantulas, but miscalculated slightly; instead, Silverbolt smacked right in to a large boulder above a stream of flowing lava. The wolf let out a canine yelp as he hit the the ashen blockade.
"Whoops." Rampage only laughed, seeming to shrug, before moving towards the fallen mech. "You're never going to leave this place alive, Maximal."
Silverbolt hissed, limping. "Maximize." It was spoken softly; with the missing leg, he balanced his damaged frame on the large stone, glaring in anger and fear at the crab.
"No, I suppose I won't." The Maximal admitted with slight sorrow, taking in a deep breath as the crab came closer. "..But I will not allow you to use me as bait!"
With that, he pushed hard against the stone, pushing himself towards the river of lava only a few feet away.
He had offlined his optics in the anticipation of pain; he received it, but he somehow doubted the sensation of being disintegrated involved a piercing pain around his midsection. After a brief nano-klik, he onlined his optics again, only to find a large claw holding him around the waist, inches above the lava.
"Primus!" This time, Silverbolt cried it out in dismay, looking up at Rampage. He flailed again, beating his fists against the claw holding him. "I will not be used as bait!"
Rampage chuckled, lifting his prisoner high in the air, appearing amused. "Who ever said I was using you as bait?"
Silverbolt stopped in surprise, but quickly began his struggles again. "Then why am I still alive?!" The frustration and confusion were clear.
Rampage only chuckled, seemingly pleased, bringing the fuzor close. He tilted his crab head ever so slightly to the side. "..Perhaps I miscalculated.." Then, he started to lower his captive back towards the lava, tilted at a slightly different angle.
"What are you.." Silverbolt was going down talon-first, this time. Optics widened in growing fear; he had wanted to meet the lava in death, not in torture. He flailed, but the grip on his midsection was unwavering, and even twisting his remaining talon in the air didn't stop or even delay the crab's intentions. "Don't --"
A scream tore through the air as his remaining talon melted in to the lava, leg held still by the crab's second large claw. He couldn't lift the melting limb from the jarring heat until the crab allowed him to do so.
Silverbolt whimpered once that happened, shaking and staring at both of his missing legs. both now gone barely an inch below the knees.
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"Optimus!" Rhinox yelled over the comm with such alarm, everyone who heard the yell over the shared system stopped in shock. "Control room, now!"
All of the Maximals in the Axalon had heard the yell in some way or another; Optimus Primal had actually been last to arrive to see everyone crowded around the surveillance system.
"What's --" The captain of the fallen ship rushed forward to stare at the largest screen they had; it was currently set over the Darksyde's doors. Silverbolt -- in beast form -- could be seen running from Rampage while the large mech tossed what looked like Tarantulas inside the Predacon base.
They had only recently gotten audio surveillance to work over the Predacon ship; Tarantulas's scream was clearly heard.
"Holy slag..!" Rattrap gaped. "Is he missin' a leg?!"
"And his wings.." Cheetor whispered in shock. "His wings are.. Gone."
"I am going to kill that slagger!" Blackarachnia hissed, likely meaning Rampage. Her fury quickly melted in to fear as she saw her white knight slam in to large rock.
"You're never going to leave this place alive, Maximal." Rampage's joyous chuckle sent shivers down several spines.
"No. I suppose not."
"What is..?" Blackarachnia's optics widened; she didn't like the tone in his voice. "By the Pit, he isn't..!"
"But I will not allow you to use me as bait!" He pushed on the stone to fall backwards.
Blackarachnia let out a soft scream, barely breathing until she realized the creature she once knew simply as Protoform X had stopped the fall.
"Big Bot, we have to get in there!" The youngest Maximal turned to look at Primal. "We know where he is, now!"
"Agreed..!" Primal nodded to Cheetor, looking away from the screen. "Blackarachnia, do you --"
"Holy..!" That seemed to be all Rattrap had been able to say as of late, yelping the words just as Blackarachnia shrieked again. Both barely covered Silverbolt's scream coming from the audio equipment.
"Tarantulas's old lab should still be connected to the Predacon base." Rhinox spoke quickly, trying to build a plan despite what they were witnessing. "Blackarachnia's old layouts should still be accurate enough --"
"Primus, that monster's going to..!" Cheetor promptly emptied his fuel intakes on the floor, vomiting.
"What?" Rattrap sputtered for a moment, glancing to Cheetor until more sound came from the screen.
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For several long seconds, Rampage said and did nothing. He simply held Silverbolt in one pincer, watching in what may have been amusement as the fuzor attempted to wriggle free despite the pain from such a massive injury. He allowed the mech to flail weakly, somehow staying online, for several minutes. "Transform in to beast mode."
The sudden voice got the Maximal's attention. "I.. What?" The pain caused disorientation.
"Go in to beast mode." Rampage ordered again, what looked like a grin plastered on his face. He then dropped the fuzor on the ground, towering over him.
Silverbolt met the soot-covered earth with a gasp and a wince; it took him a moment to realize what the Predacon intended. "I can't run with only my back legs!" He winced again when he realized he was actually begging.
"Would you prefer I force you to transform? I promise you, it wouldn't be pleasant." Rampage smirked.
The fuzor stared in horror; he didn't know if the Predacon could actually force his body to transform without his consent, but he realized he did not want to find out. Silverbolt laid there for a moment, looking up at the towering transmetal crab, whispering under his breath. A short second later, and he silently transformed to his canine form.
There was no attempt to move or struggle when the pincer grabbed him around his furred chest; he merely clenched his organic eyes and jaw shut, waiting for the inevitable agony that he couldn't escape from. Despite knowing that Rampage could literally feel his emotions and feed off of them, he could not keep the fear and terror at bay.
The fuzor didn't open his eyes even as he felt himself move through the air. He felt the heat by his hind legs before he felt the pain, and it was the only warning he got to clench his jaw shut. Still, the agony the tore along one leg and then the other evoked nothing short of a howl from jaws that were practically locked shut.
Miraculously -- although it wasn't clear in whose favor it was --, Silverbolt did not fall unconscious from having three of his four legs burned off. He even managed to flutter his eyes open and glare at Rampage, growling weakly.
The destroyer of Omicron only laughed, and rumbled back towards the Darksyde, still holding the fuzor in his claws.
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Dreaming of screaming
Someone kick me out of my mind
I hate these thoughts I can't deny
Dreaming of screaming
Someone kick me out of my mind
I hate these thoughts I can't deny
-- "Dreaming", System of a Down
Author notes: No promises when the next part comes out. *shrug*