A/N:Thank you once again for the review and kind words. :)

Since we are getting deeper into the story and the entity will be revealing himself more and more, I must inform you that because of what I have planned, the rating may go up to 'M'. The subject matter that I intend to explore will become disturbing to some. It won't be for awhile, but I thought it would be best to give people fair warning.


THE POVEGLIAN VENDETTA

Chapter 4

"Victims of Nocturnal Clichés"

Dead End walked back to his own quarters after he had delivered the inventory report to Soundwave. Dirge walked beside him, as silent as the Stunticon and just as lost in his thoughts; both still trying to wrap their processors about what could have moved the energon cubes without them noticing—and why? To cause them mental frustration?

Dead End still thought it was one of Skywarp's pranks—there was no one else that could have moved them.

Dirge had accepted his fellow somber mech's claim; it was rational. On the other hand, there was a feeling in his spark that debated against the rational explanation; a feeling that said that he had actually seen and humanoid shadow move from one energon wall to the next. He shook his head, who would believe him? Slag he didn't even believe himself!

Dirge and Dead End stepped into the elevator, Dead End taking the initiative as usual and pressed the button to his level (Stunticon Hall). Dirge pressed the button to his own level afterwards. The elevator reached Dirge's level first and he stepped out, neither mechs in the mood for their usual morbid chit-chat sessions.

"Good night Dead End," Dirge muttered.

"Good night," Dead End exchanged, the elevator doors closing.

The elevator reached Stunticon Hall and Dead End walked to his quarters, not surprised to see havoc already brewing before bedtime. Motormaster was as usual yelling at Wildrider, Dragstrip and Breakdown (who was cowering behind his hell-driven brothers). To what about Dead End didn't care and went to his doors, his hand not even able to touch the keypad before his leader's fury was directed at him.

"Ah Dead End you're here!" his leader called behind him, planting a rough hand on Dead End's shoulders and dragging him to his own quarters. "Perhaps you can explain this to me!"

At first Dead End could detect nothing wrong with his leader's dark quarters, but he looked for closely and saw that his leader's quarter's lights were out and his storing cabinets had been opened and the contents placed neatly on Motormaster's recharge berth.

"Perhaps you have done that yourself while searching for something," Dead End replied coolly, carefully treading through the stormy seas of Motormaster's patience. "And perhaps you broke the lights when you forced Dragstrip out of your quarters last cycle."

"I would have remembered if I knocked out my own lights—and the way I left my quarters!" Motormaster returned. "It was either you or the others; nobody else knows my quarter codes!"

"Then perhaps it was the others," Dead End said, trying to squirm out of Motormaster's grip with little avail. "I was in the Energon Storage Room assisting Dirge—it could not have been me."

A sharp, but muffled pop rang through the air, followed by another and another (three in total) interrupting the Stunticon's quarrel. They looked at each other and then decided to investigate what the noise was. Motormaster released his hold on Dead End, letting him go for now and joining the others in their search.

Breakdown peeked in his quarters and gasped. "My quarter lights are busted—they were working fine and now they are broken!"

Dragstrip narrowed his optics and marched over to his quarters, "Mine are too!"

Wildrider went to inspect his. "What the frag!"

Curious, Dead End went over to his quarters… and found his lights to be functioning properly. Motormaster and the others came over to Dead End's quarters and immediately scowled.

"Why is yours the only one fine Dead End?" questioned the Stunticon leader suspiciously.

"I assure you I do not know," Dead End replied tiredly; repeating the same sentence over and over in a cycle was so very boring.

"Well I think you do," Dragstrip piped, crossing his arms across his chest.

"If my random luck with the lights bothers you all so much dear brothers I shall inform Hook that your lights are out," Dead End simply said, slightly annoyed.

Quickly before the others could get another word in, Dead End snuck into his quarters and shut the door behind him, finally able to replenish the serenity solitude brought. Taking his time he sat down in his chair, punching in Hook's computer feed and waited for the Constructicon to answer the call.

Silently he glanced up at the ceiling at his quarter lights; another strange occurrence to add to his already growing list of unexplained phenomenon.

"Hook here, what is it?"

Dead End turned his chair to greet the unhappy Constructicon. He couldn't blame him for his foul mood after Rumble and Frenzy had down with the lights, after all he was the one to clean up their mess.

"I'm sorry to trouble you Hook but I'm afraid it has to do with the lights once again," Dead End said, his voice proper but not exactly apologetic.

"You and your Stunticon brothers will have to wait. I have much to deal with at the present moment. Skywarp and Thundercracker informed me that the Energon Storage Room lights are out as we speak."

"Yes they are," answered Dead End.

"That room is my priority in regards to light problems—you will have to wait," Hook finished.

"I understand, but I'm merely telling you that my teammate's quarter lights have just gone out and it is not my wrath you will receive if the problem goes unfixed."

"Tell your teammates that I will get to it—but after I correct the more pressing issues on my list."

"That is the third time you have said that you have other issues. I understand and I bore of hearing it repeated," Dead End said.

"Careful... I'm not in the mood Dead End," Hook warned. "Next time you see me I might be careless with your fuel lines."

"Death threats do not do not frighten me I hear them often," Dead End shot back. "And we both know that your perfect ego would not allow you to slip— even for personal revenge."

"I will be in Stunticon Hall in the next two cycles, refrain from destroying more in the meantime—Hook out."

Dead End ignored Hook. He had always known that the Constructicon had never liked him even though he never put up a fuss during repairs. Hook was tired of hearing Dead End rambles about of how he should let death come and medical aid was only prolonging the inevitable.

Dead End heard sounds in the next room, accompanied by the sound of a thunderous explosion and primitive gunfire; another one of Dragstrip and Wildrider's movie nights.

Dead End moved to lie on his recharge berth, giving in to his systems need for recharge. He shut off his optics and with voice-command his lights to do the same. Falling to sleep to the sound of Wildrider's atrocious taste in human movies muffled through the walls nosily.

Soon the other Stunticons succumbed to sleep, their quarter doors shut promptly and their hall left dark and undisturbed.


Hook passed by through Stunticon Hall. His ladder under his arm—the cable still attached—and his optics darting frantically around the hallway. He could feel something follow him; it didn't abandon him just because the Energon Storage Room doors had shut. He didn't know who or what it was, but it continued to pursue him. He pretended not to pay attention to it, but its presence was hard to deny. He could almost taste the bitter atmosphere around him; it was as potent as Blast Brew.

When Hook reached the end of Stunticon Hall he suddenly felt more relaxed, even though he still felt the presence of optics boring into the back of his helm, the same strange air hanging around him.

Hook pressed on, determined to latch onto an explanation as logical as he was.

He would have the fortunate luxury of being unbothered for the rest of the night... because the being following him was suddenly reminded of the other toys it could play with.


Breakdown onlined his optics with a start, his paranoia once again robbing him of another full night's rest. As his systems went to work cooling his overheated circuitry, he scanned every inch of his claustrophobic room. He had always hated his room— it was far too small for him.

The doors of his room suddenly slid open, making the Stunticon jump. A dark and empty corridor greeted him. He would have understood if it was another of the Stunticons wanting something from him, but there was nobody outside the door which not only confused him, but frightened him.

As Breakdown sat in the darkness, the sound of footsteps drawing near his door was heard, sending a shiver through him.

Like out of a human horror movie (one that Wildirder forced him to watch) they grew closer and closer, almost pounding in Breakdown's audio receptors.

Breakdown couldn't remain still, even though it felt as if his whole form was welded to the berth. He sprang forward and latched his hand on his keypad, his door closing as he backed into his wall. He relaxed, unable to hear the footsteps any more. He went over to lie on his berth again, forcibly trying to put it out of his processor and thinking it as nothing but a hallucination brought on by sleep deprivation.

Breakdown shot up when he heard loud and thunderous banging on his walls... coming from inside his own room.

Breakdown shrunk into the corner cowering, the banging growing nearer and nearer to him; making him feel like a mousebot trapped in the corner by a malicious feline.

They stopped, leaving Breakdown stunned, making him wonder if he was having what the humans called a nightmare. No, that was dumb, Transformers didn't dream. That only made Breakdown shiver even more, knowing that he was trapped with someone else in his quarters—an invisible intruder.

Breakdown composed himself and drew his weapon out, pointing it front to him and waiting for the intruder to revel himself.

The night had never dragged on so long.


Dragstrip was next.

Wildrider and Dragstrip were passed out in Wildrider's quarters, Dragstrip on the floor by his friend's berth while Wildrider slept in a sitting position in the corner, his High Grade spilled and dripping onto Dragstrip's legs. The room filled in the patchy ivory glow of static from the monitor screen from when their movie had ended.

Dragstrip drowsily awoke, feeling something trickling on him. Tiredly he raised his head and saw the alcoholic lubricant spilling on him from the berth. Lazily he moved his leg and looked to the monitor screen.

"Shut off," he commanded, the monitor complying and sending the room into darkness.

He had only gotten in a couple of relaxing minutes when suddenly he felt something grab him and pull him under Wildrider's recharge berth, movement nearly impossible under the cramped space.

What felt liked another body pressed on top of him, pinning him under the berth. Dragstrip fought against the invisible mech when he felt it clawing at sensitive wiring in his neck joint. Dragstrip kicked and punched in defense, sometimes missing his target and instead hitting Wildrider's berth.

Wildrider woke when he felt his berth bucking wildly, nearly ripping itself off the wall.

Rebooting his systems quickly he jumped off the berth... and narrowed his optics when he saw it was Dragstrip kicking his berth.

"Very funny frag face," Wildrider called to fellow Stunticon, thinking that his actions were nothing but an immature prank.

"Get this slag sucker off me!"

Wildrider frowned when he heard his fellow Stunticon's voice with was filled with genuine panic and trouble. Wildrider reached under and grabbed his friend by the arm, pulling him out. Dragstrip flung himself away from the berth, hitting Wildrider's messy desk, fear upon his face.

"What's wrong?"

Dragstrip pointed to the berth. "Something fraggin' attacked me!"

"Huh?"

"Someone pulled me under!"

Wildrider, with a baffled but vengeful expression, charged and ducked his head under his berth… finding nobody.

Dragstrip's dilemma was forgotten when they heard the unmistakable roar of their Stunticon leader across the hall. The racers glanced at each other before walking towards the door, opening it and trying to walk through, both of them getting stuck when they tried to escape at the same time. They backed into the room, Wildrider exited first and then Dragstrip.

To their astonishment, Motormaster's quarter doors were already opened, allowing them to see their leader on the floor, a surprised but angry glow in his optics. He stood, fuming and searching wildly for the mech that had dragged him off his berth. Breakdown and Dead End also came out of their quarters, trying to see what the ruckus was about and how it pertained to the angry Kenworth.

Motormaster pointed a finger at Dragstrip and Wildrider. "Where did that pile of reject parts go!" he questioned brusquely, stepping into the hallway and searching for any sign of the intruder.

The smaller vehicles just looked at him like deer caught in his headlights. "We didn't see anybody—but someone attacked Dragstrip."

"Someone attacked me too!" Breakdown called.

"Nothing happened to me," Dead End said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Are you calling us liars Dead End?" questioned Dragstrip, raising a fist in his direction.

"No," Dead End replied, turning his head away as if disinterested. "Perhaps it was Skywarp, he enjoys such lackluster things."

"Him or not someone fraggin' pulled me off my own berth!" Motormaster bellowed. "And they are not going to see the next cycle with their arms attached to their body!"

With that Motormaster charged down the hall, the other Stunticons following behind him and starting their search for the jokester who had visited them. Dead End stayed behind, not interested in their troubles.

What felt like a cold breeze blew across the back of Dead End's neck joint. It was odd, but he remained calm. Dead End turned slowly, trying to see where it had come from.

He turned sharply when he heard the sound of footsteps entering his quarters. He approached with slight hesitance, positive that he heard footsteps but at the same time skeptical.

He stepped into the doorway, pausing when he failed to find the intruder. His next course of action would have been to shrug and go back to sleep, but instead he found himself glued to the floor; the uncomfortable feeling that he felt in the Energon Storage Room had returned.

His hand lifted to his helm, an unexplained nausea engulfing him and fogging his processor. As the sickness progressed, he suddenly felt as if the energon was being drained from his very fuel lines; increasingly making him dizzy and tired.

Through the fog he heard his name called, but not addressed to him in Cybertronian, in a human language—English if he remembered correctly.

As his processor cleared, his name was called more and more, the voice growing deeper and aggressive. He covered his audio receptors, annoyed by the vocals, but despite his shield they still penetrated, almost as if they were echoing in his processor.

Then it stopped and there was nothing but silence. Dead End moved his hands from his helm.

His quarter room lights suddenly popped, sending the room into darkness. Dead End sighed; it was only appropriate that his lights would break too, joining the fate of the other lights in Stunticon Hall.

Ironically, the atmosphere became more relaxed when the lights went out, as if the intruder had left. Appropriate considering that Dead End did not feel tired anymore, just confused.

Mental frustration must have been the objective after all.


Dead End later found out that the other Stuntions were unable to find anyone lurking around the Nemesis besides Starscream who often stalked the base at night. Dead End remained passive, but at the same time curious since the intruder had also visited him. He chose to not dwell upon it, whoever the intruder was it appeared that he was gone.

A week had passed without disturbance; energon cubes were full, the lights had stopped flickering and moods were stabilized. Those who had experienced a phenomenon kept it to themselves. If there was a mech in the base that was still appeared unsettled it was Thundercracker. He didn't know why he just couldn't push it out of his processor, although he knew they were too ludicrous for his logical processor. Something just didn't feel right; as if he was still carrying the ominous weight on his shoulder plates. But as always, he kept his thoughts to himself.


Insomnia wasn't a stranger to Starscream, he experienced it often when malevolent thoughts about his leader ran through his processor night and day. He walked the corridors, brainstorming ways he could overthrow Megatron and better the Decepticon cause, thoughts that usually brought a smile to his lips when he took his nocturnal walks.

Soundwave rounded the corner, wiping the smile from Starscream's lips and replacing it with a scowl. It wasn't unusual to see Soundwave up late, after all Megatron and his projects were always Soundwave's top priority. Still... he hated sharing anything in common with that lapdog; especially walking the corridors while others recharged—they were his time to think and muse!

The two passed each other, Starscream not even acknowledging his presence with a cynical remark or an accidental shove in the shoulder plates.

Starscream entered the elevator, deciding to take his walks to another part of the base. Much to his annoyance the elevator suddenly halted, making Starscream sigh in agitation; he was in no mood for any malfunctions.

His blue fingers set to work, pressing characters on the keypad, trying to see which level he was on.

He was near the Energon Storage Room. His fingers were centimeters away from the elevator's override panel when suddenly the lights began to flicker. He laughed in angered disbelief; his patience for the lights had run out.

Why not just turn off? Why the annoying flickering?

As if his wish had been granted they suddenly shut off, sending the elevator into darkness. Starscream's red optics slanted in the dark.

He whirled around, his solitude disturbed by a dead and absolute feeling in his spark that he was not alone. For millennia he had learned to watch his back and he knew the difference between paranoia and when someone was actually watching him; it was the latter.

Someone with a deep and graveled voice laughed at him, faintly and right into his audio receptors.

He continued to inspect the elevator, scanning furiously for the other occupant. He could find nobody.

Even though he was positive that he had heard somebody, he dismissed it and returned back to the elevator's override panel, opening it and shifting through the wires and circuits. Without him having to do anything, the elevator whirred back to life, the lights also turning back on. He smirked and closed the panel.

He froze.

In the glossy chrome surface he could make out the reflection of a dark figure behind him, as tall but nothing on his form to indicate if he was a flier or a ground-roller. It was almost as if he shaped like those insufferable organics.

He scoffed slightly and turned to greet the other; ironically comforted to know that it hadn't been his imagination.

He greeted nothing.

He scanned the elevator in a befuddled fury.

The doors of the elevator slid open and Starcream found himself at the very hall he had begun; the one that he had just passed Soundwave in.

Starscream let out a startled yelp when he was suddenly thrown off balance, landing face first on the floor with a pained grunt. An angered scowl stretched upon his face. He pressed his hands against the floor and rotated, aiming his arm cannons in the direction of the elevator.

"NO ONE PUSHES ME—"

Precisely. Nobody had pushed him; the elevator was empty. He fired into the elevator angrily as if to vent his anger. His shots hit the wall and the elevator doors closed, leaving the Seeker fuming on the ground. Starscream didn't stay on the floor for long; he lifted himself up and waited for the elevator to stop, pinpointing the invisible mech's location.

He grinned wickedly, revenge on the processor and gave chase—this time using the stairs.


Frenzy woke to find Soundwave gone and the other Cassettes (Rumble, Ravage and himself) using Soundwave's berth to recharge. Frenzy glanced up at the wall, seeing Laserbeak, Buzzsaw and Ratbat (who recharged upside-down like the organic animal he mimicked) perching and sleeping soundly.

Frenzy sat up and jumped off the berth, not in the mood to recharge.

Stalking the Hall of the High Command, he sighed. For split astro-second he wished that Rumble was with him... then again, maybe not.

Rumble had been giving him a lot of slag about something that didn't even happen. Something about returning back to Soundwave's quarters and stuttering like an idiot about 'not doing something'.

Frenzy nearly had to run out of the way when an irate Starscream came around the corner, searching in fury for something. Starscream noticed Frenzy. "Did you see anybody come through here runt?"

Frenzy narrowed his optics under his visor. "No Screamer I haven't—why don't ya try and being quieter, the whole base can hear ya comin!"

Starscream didn't have time to enter into a heated chit-chat with the inferior mech and instead trudged on. Frenzy rolled his optics under his visor; he always knew that Starscream was crazy...

Frenzy whirled around when he heard footsteps that didn't belong to him. They were lighter, softer, closer...

His audios screeched and he fell to his knees covering his helm, unconsciously crying out in pain from the static attack. It began to fade, but not completely. He rose back to his feet, his hands still covering his audio receptors. When he rose, a horrifying realization hit him.

There was only one other time something similar to this happened.

He looked down the hall, just in time to see something that made his optics widen.

The memories of the haunted island flashed back through his memory banks with the intensity of a supernova when he saw the unmistakable doctor's coat. He passed by slowly, as if intently wanting Frenzy to see him.

It's organic optics bore into Frenzy as it flashed him an evil grin. Red life-blood poured thickly from his cranial head wound and down his neck to his clothes; the white doctor's coat emphasizing the blood more. There were no second thoughts about it, Frenzy knew exactly what it was.

It vanished from sight, leaving Frenzy shivering in the hall, the small mech suddenly starting to question his own sanity.


A/N: Banging on the walls, the beds shaking, seeing shadow and figures... clichés are fun. ;D Many thanks for reading and reviews are always welcomed. :)