Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers or its characters. I only own Natalia Raynes, Damarys, and Doctor Morgan.

Warning: chapter contains experimentation and torture.

Authors note: the torture and experimentation goes on for a bit, but won't last the entire story, promise.


I couldn't tell when night and day were, which made it hard to tell how long I'd been here.

What I could tell you was that I'd been carved and exploratory prodded repeatedly since the water torture session. I had scars on either side of my ribcage, down my stomach, my shoulder and leg. The mystery liquid made an appearance during each exploratory surgery, but hadn't figured out what exactly it did. Scalpel kept notes, but he always spoke in Cybertronian since I was usually awake. I also now had six more acid burns on my arms, neck, legs and back.

I was irregularly fed and watered, mostly bread and water. Occasionally, I got a piece of ham instead of bread. Catheter bags were placed on my crevice twice during the day and night for me to change myself. The were always gone the next time I woke up, after my sessions as I started to call them.

This time when I was brought down from my perch, Scalpel had more equipment than usual. There were clamps, his usual scalpel, a suture kit, large bandages and something I couldn't quite see.

I fortified my mind, steeling myself in preparation for the pain. He never gave me pain medication, only the paralyzing agent. I can do this, I chanted in my thoughts. I can survive that thing and everything he throws at me.

I repeated those sentences in my head as he injected me with the paralyzing agent and waited for it to take effect. I clenched my teeth as I felt it spread through my body.

There was a long moment of silence as he scanned me. Once. Twice.

"Paralyzing agent active, I will begin experiment 006-D." Scalpel announced, spreading my abdomen with the strange blue surgical spray and waited for it to soak into my skin. He started up the Cybertronian commentary as he made the first few slices to open me up like a gruesome version of a book.

Things were going normally. I screamed as he rummaged around a bit, not very gently as usual, and he finally withdrew his hands from me.

Now, here's the rub. This time, instead of cleansing the wound with that shit that burned, he grabbed some clamps and lowered then into my open abdomen. I could feel him latching them to something, but it was hard to see what.

He made more cuts and siphoned excess blood from his area with a small hose, turning to empty out in a bucket.

I fought through the crashing wave of pain to watch what he was doing. This time, I would know what he did to me when he cut me open. Looking back on the next few moments, I might wish that I hadn't. No one deserved what came next.

Scalpel reached back for these things that looked like larger versions of tweezers and they, too, disappeared into my body.

The pain blossomed, becoming more intense, making it hard to breathe for a minute. Stars danced in front of my eyes

He pulled, lifting the tweezers out again. However, there was a bloody mass connected.

Horror struck my chest. What had he done to me?!

I stared at the mass as he dropped it into the pan that I hadn't seen earlier. It took me a few heartbeats to find my voice.

"What are you doing, you little freak?! What have you done to me?!" I cried, a mix of emotions floating around my chest. Anger, pain, nausea, horror.

He cackled, continuing his commentary and lowering the tweezers into my body.

"DON'T YOU DARE! You get away from me with those!" I screamed, terrified and furious.

He ignored me, lifting out a second bloody chunk. This one had a different shape and size, smaller and more of a square. It looked like a chunk of muscle from somewhere. The first mass was circular and had a different texture forms what I saw.

An organ?

He was removing my organs now?!

He plopped muscle next to organ in the pan and flushed them with water, hurrying to place them beside his bag of tools. He placed the pan in a circular thing and covered it with a lid. It looked kind of like a cooler, but I didn't hear any ice moving around when he put the pieces of my body in it.

"The samples have been extracted." Scalpel noted aloud, approaching me. "Continuing with experiment 006-D."

He'd abandoned the tweezers and returned to my open abdomen. More tools were introduced: Sharp, blunt, circular, sticks with mirrors, and other things I'd lost track of or couldn't accurately describe.

There was an eternity of cutting, clipping, clamps, siphoning excess blood and pain. The world was reduced to sight and sound and pain.

A few more pieces had been lifted out of me. A part of a bone, a sliver of intestine, a patch of my outer lung.

He was careful to avoid extracting too much, just enough to provide a sample.

Finally, he had what he wanted and poured the mysterious liquid into my wounds, waiting only long enough for it to do whatever it was meant to, then he began to close me up. Stitches, bandages and more unknown substances being applied to my surgical site.

I was moved to my crevice, and I lay there for the rest of the day? Night? I didn't even know which.

My mind whirled as I rested. No, rested was the wrong word, this wasn't rest.

Nothing about this was restful.

Had Scalpel been removing bits of me at a time once I was unconscious? Was there an alternation? A system? Did he take a piece of me every time he cut me open? What the pit did he want? What was the purpose of the experiments?

I had no answers. I didn't even know where to begin looking for them.

I lie awake until I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer.

There were no dreams, only nightmares and memories.


I screamed and thrashed my head back and forth, gnashing my teeth.

This was going too far! This was thousands of kinds of wrong!

Scalpel had woken me and injected me with a different vial this time, an addition to the paralyzing agent. This green liquid was worse than the other shit.

This shot was an enhancer, sped up my healing process to an inhuman level.

They'd made me into a freak for a grand total of an hour.

I learned the hard way that it had time frame limits.

The new acid marks on my collar bone, decorative designs the fragger had named them, were still on my skin two hours after application. This delighted the Con to no end.

So, naturally, he conducted his next act of defining anything human.

Scalpel had wheeled in stirrups I'd seen in check ups with my lady doctor and wasted no time strapping me in to them and manoeuvring me to his satisfaction.

The stirrups should have been a clue, I realized that now.

He had called it a probe, when Barricade asked. He had said it would allow him to examine what he couldn't gain access to through my abdomen. Let him extract sample and collect data from the one point of my structure he hadn't gained access to yet.

So, now, I was thrashing my head in agony as the Decepticon forced the probe further into my body. The bastard was in essence raping me with a damn probe.

He roughly pushed again, the probe nearing the target. My cervix.

He took tissue and bone samples, withdrawing in much the same way he'd started. Very roughly.

I received another shot of the green fluid and was sent back to my crevice.

Hatred ran through me, pumped through my veins with every beat of my heart.

I observed their recent movements and planned.

I wouldn't stay another day in this situation. I would escape, or die trying.

All I had to do was wait for the right moment.


It took three more sessions with the electricity and water before I found my means of escape.

Observation revealed that there were human bullets scattered on the floor. Listening revealed that the bunker was originally an abandoned human base that they'd shaped for their needs.

I had hidden the gun the first day of my captivity. If I could collect enough bullets I could make my move.

On my third session of water torture, I purposefully fell and sucked up three bullets into my mouth and swept them under my tongue for temporary safe keeping.

Once the paralysis wore off, I loaded the bullets into the gun and stashed it again.

Barricade took over the water torture, Scalpel had disappeared after the probe incident. I was subjected to more frequent trips to the hooks while he was in control and the sessions lasted a while longer as a result.

The unintentional second result, was I had more opportunities to gather the abandoned ammunition on the bunker floor.

When I had enough bullets to fill the chamber ten times, I decided that was enough ammunition for my needs. Now, to wait for the next portion of the plan.


My chance came sooner than expected.

Scalpel had left what I assumed was four days ago to study the newer samples he'd cut my my acid burnt skin. Soundwave had gone to the main base to report to Starscream. Apparently the deluded scrap heap thought he could one up the Autobots ans was pit bent on trying it.

Barricade came for me, like I knew he would. I grabbed my stolen gun and extra ammo, hiding them from the Cons view.

Patience.

He grasped me in his fist and walked toward the hook I had hung from more often than I'd rather remember.

I waited until he'd lowered me to a somewhat safe distance from the ground and took the opportunity in a bold move. There wouldn't be a better time or chance than this. I whipped the gun from its hiding place and fired with quick succession. The first three rounds I aimed for his optics, the other three went into the sensitive circuits of his hands.

As expected, he dropped me with a pained snarl, both hands going for his optics.

I grunted as I landed on my back, forcing the pain from my mind as I rolled onto my knees and ran for the doors. I reminded myself that I wasn't hurt bad on my back and pushed My legs to work faster.

My newest surgical site protested, but I ignored it, pressing on the smaller door I'd seen Scalpel use.

Sunlight blasted into my eyes, immediately stopping me in my tracks. I covered my eyes and hissed in pain, cursing my sensitivity to light. I didn't have time for this, I had to keep going or I'd be done before I really started.

I ran, keeping my eyes mostly covered, only allowing a tiny crack in my hands to guide me.

I ran until my legs refused to work another second and straight shade from a nearby tree. Everything hurt now and my lungs burned.

I groaned when I realized the wound on my abdomen had started to trickle blood and a tinge of pus. The bandage would need to be changed very soon and the wound itself cleaned and tended to properly.

I needed water. I needed shelter.

I needed a lot of things I wouldn't get where I was.

After my legs felt like I could stand on them again, I pushed myself up and started walking.

I walked and walked, stopping for breaks when I had no other choice and resting under the shad of trees, the sun slowly descending.

Suddenly, the sand and trees stopped. Blue with yellow and white stripes. Signs with black curves.

Hope filled me for the first time since I'd escaped. A road!

I stumbled forward, the sun had long lost it warmth, even though I could see the waves of heat rising from the to road. Shiver assaulted my body, my limbs resembling uncontrollably. I fell to my knees as my legs gave out and crawled to the centre of the road.

I could hear it. The whooshing of tires and the rumble of an engine.

A car.

A car was coming.

I was saved.

Everything became blurry after that. Distorted voices and a fuzzy face the I thought seemed very familiar.

"Charles, do something!"

"Dear God! Miss Raynes? Can you hear me?"

"I can't get service. I can't call the ambulance."

"Help me get her in the car, Joe."

Wait. . . I knew that voice.

"Doctor Morgan." I slurred, my tongue feeling heavy and wrong. I was so cold and everything hurt.

"I've got you, Miss Raynes. I'll take care of you."

Those were the last words I heard before being swallowed by darkness.