TK-Productionz:
Sorry, again(….. TTTT….) for such a long wait… I had school and other things, I know…
That sounds like complete bullshit but it's the truth.
Not to give too much away but this is the chapter where I introduce Megatron…..
ENJOY!!!
And please…. Review…
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The room was a harem for the patrons of darkness, neon strands of light that curved and straightened with the conjoining corners of ceiling and floor created areas of non-dark. An arrogant and tyrannical hum reverberated against the walls it origins were of that from the lights and a large computer that scaled a good territory of the grand suit.
The short and dark halls lead to a greater room and greater sound to dominate the silence. Its heptagonal shape gave way to several walls being dominated by things of interest and possessions of armament. Amidst the white-blue neon slivers of the walls and distinct purple and metallic grey were the colors of the room.
On the massive bed just left to a wall of hideous and dangerous looking weapons a great, lavender Tyrannosaurus slumbered under a grand layered wrap of linens.
The drool from its toothy mouth already created quite a lake in a large depression in the sheet. The salivary liquid would surely forever stain and damage the light purple negative space and deep purple insect-head image, the symbol of the Predacons, which covered the general negative space of the sheets.
It's large eyed twitched underneath the heavy sleep crusted lid. From effect of the dream it experienced its tail lashed out from underneath the covers. Striking the wall just below where a poster of the Maximal leader, Optimus Primal, was posted as a crude target of marksmen practice. Many burn marks and bullet holes disrupted the picture of the leader's image especially the bullet hole placed just between the portrait's optics.
Within the processes of his brain, the T-Rex had reigned supreme. In an intangible jungle forest it stomped around like a tyrant, its lips curled to give way to a torrent of saliva that descended form its mouth in bungee-like strands. The clawed toes cringed and buried the enamel tips deeply into the soft top soil of the misty and damp forest. The tail swayed in unrest, it was hungry!!!!
A rhino, cheetah, raptor, rat and a gorilla all traveled together in a ridiculous pack. The thick, wet tongue wrapped along the rim of teeth and cracked lizard lip. Maximal would be on the menu today….
The reptilian eyes slit upon seeing the grey and black form of the lumbering gorilla, that would be its main course.
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His mandible extensions flailed in unrest and uneasiness. Entering their leader's room without appointment or announcement equaled a painful disembowelment and needed trip to the CR chamber. The clank of his metal feet upon the same element made floor reverberated into his mandibles forcing them into an ever greater frenzy of unrest.
He didn't have to do this; he didn't want to do this… Where is Terrorsaur whenever he's actually needed, or any of the other processor-less lackeys when you needed them?
Though he plotted against the tyrant on a regular basis he could not help the building pressure around his spark chamber. He did as he pleased against the fascist, but always in conduct of discretion. A straight forward task such as this, from a painful history of being under their leader's rule, always remained as an existing choice the mad man had never independently chosen.
Why did this little notion have to be brought up now, when he was so far buried in his devious schemes and maniacal experimentations, couldn't it wait?
The image of Blackarachnia's Cyber-Venom Combustion Ballista gun pointed in the middle of his optic visor, while her machine gun loaded spider leg extensions of her upper arms protracted to aim at other vital points of his mechanical anatomy came to mind.
Oh… That was why he had to do this.
When upon choosing her alternate form to be an arachnid, like his, for the completion of her creation and permanent instatement into the Predacon ranks. He managed to delete the yearning for sex appeal and pursuit of companionship from the void in his spark only to fill his circuitry with annoyance and insubordination to the will of the wicked little She-bot.
Did other's who created companions in their image face such painful fights only to give in to the will of their creations..?
Surely Unicron, the eater of planets and the evil counter part of the life giving Primus, never faced such rebellion from his descendants and kin?
So why did the She-Spider win this round of the always dangerous game of "Who's Going To Be The Harbinger".?
A familiar buzzing filled the air and managed to dishevel the sweet, sweet thoughts of terminating his creation.
He growled, the spider-like mouth pieces in front of his facial, mechanical Larynx flailed crazily in their mandibular joints at the new, overpowering sound. The flexible material of his optic visor bent as his movable eye ridge slit the yellow frame to emphasize a glare as his head and body turned to meet the whimsical lackey.
A wasp, green for the most part, yellow and black stripes covered the thorax; hovered in front of the anthropoidal, arachnoid influenced in apparel, Tarantulas.
Hovering in the air, its body mass and length were equal with Tarantulas, if not just by a few centimeters smaller
Tarantulas glared at him, his yellow optic visor slit dangerously into a small sliver. The ivory mandibles drew down into six slashes that gave shape of a phalanx to convey his alien form of a frown.
"Hello Spider-bot…" The wasp said, the sound of his voice high, nasally, and as buzzing sounding as his buzzing wings.
"Waspinator…" Tarantulas spoke; his own reserves of cyber-venom swelled and threatened to leak from his 'terrorized-mode'.
He was tired and jesting cruelty could not be processed to his modem's CNS and anthropoid-cranial expression unit. Because of his exhaustion caused from the anticipation he experienced in awaiting the inevitable pain that would come from interrupting their leader; absolute indifference and hatred would have to be placed upon the giant, flying insect.
"What exactly are you doing here..?"
The wasp was surprised, to say the least, at the disturbance of the evil scientist's usual banter and spark-crushing communication. The surprise gave the ever inferior underling a taste of power over the other mech. In turn with this sudden grant of authority made him act like a smart-aft.
"Oh Wazz-pinator just buzz-ing around when all of a sudden see Spider-Bot on Megatron'z door step. Wazz-pinator curious to see what Spider-bot is doing out here…"
The taste of power would prove to be exactly what it was, just a taste; an idea struck red hot in the furnace of Tarantulas' core hard drive processor.
He worked hard to keep his mandibles from flickering three sets of grins; he needed to make himself believable to the insectoid fool. His suave abhorrence returned to his features and he gestured it to further enhance his bluff.
"Well… Not like its any of your business insect but my collected scans of monitoring the Maximal base proves that they seem to be; by lack of outward activity, processing strategies of stealth operations for the termination of our mission."
The green insect head tilted, forcing the brown antennae to sway to one side. The sideways, mandible-possessed mouth remained open.
"Spider-bot say what…?"
Waspinator was sure of a few sparks and smoke trailing from his processor in result of the vernacular overload that came from the anthropoid spider-mech's cranial Larynx.
Tarantulas covered his face with the yellow and purple striped spider mandible that was his hand.
It did well to cover the three grins of his mouth.
"I'm going to see Megatron because I've been spying on the Maximals and they don't seem to doing anything…"
He explained in plain English for the ignorant wasp to understand.
"And that'z bad…" His processor was still a little fried.
Now the wasp was just being stupid, a little too stupid for his spontaneous plan to work. His optic visor slit to a dangerous sliver again as diminished cyber-venom sprayed from his mouth.
"YES THAT'S BAD YOU IDIOT!!!"
The wasp hovered a bit higher as his panic came to life. "OH!! Well then Wazz-pinator better warn other'z!!!"
He was less than a nano-cycle before taking off when the striped, crab-like hand of Tarantulas shot out to grab him at the base of his wasp form's stinger and drag him down with unanticipated force.
Apparently the stupidity of others was not always so smooth to work in your favor, Tarantulas thought; a lower corner of the ridge of his visor twitched in irritation.
"The rest of the crew already knows and that's why I have taken it upon myself, ("and by the blackmail of a certain witch…" He mumbled to himself.) To tell Megatron about this."
He could see the uncertainty in the insect trusting his credibility in the giant, impassive blue compound eyes of the wasp.
Perhaps a little more coaxing would have to be dealt before the idiot would unknowingly agree to become my fool…
"Of course… I do believe Megatron will reward anyone who warns him of danger before it strikes."
Waspinator's antennae flicked up in torrent of an onslaught of unrealistic rewards for being a harbinger.
"Well the let'z get in there and tell Megatron!!!" He spoke with elated jubilee.
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The thick mists of the jungle did well to wet the Tyrannosaur's appetite. It also did well to momentarily shield the inferior prey from the inevitable doom approaching tremendous stomps. The gait of the predator was slowed; each step paced a long duration from the next. In their hiding spaces, its feet sounded like booming thunder. The drool from its maw created miniature lakes in the soil.
Coming to a standstill it lowered its massive head below the curtain of mist to better seek out the locations of its hidden dinner. The bulging red eyes were squinted by the thick leathery flaps of its lids, the nostrils constricted and dilated in steady rhythm like the ventricle chambers of a pulsing heart. The nose holes enlarged suddenly as the faintest smell was excavated from under its thick covering jungle smell and thick mist. Desperately the nostrils began a Tachycardia version of the rhythmic heart beat, dilating and contracting a hundred times a minute; desperate for the smell to return to the sensory chamber of the inner-nasal canal. The heart-like rhythm stopped altogether and the thick-hide lips pulled back in anticipation to show the tips of a few, blood-soaked teeth.
It had located the whereabouts of the gorilla.
Boasting a bloodcurdling roar it charged into the thick bush where the gorilla suddenly sprang and began lumbering in pursuit of remaining alive. The two legged, tail thrashing, sharp-toothed, purple monster clung to the primate's running heels.
In midst of its thundering charge abandon of destroying all forestry in its way, it eyed the prey's juicy fur covered flank.
What to eat first…?
Its primitive mind toiled with the flavors and consistency of the prey's flesh.
At this point, with such a primal demand and saturation of adrenaline, the silver back would outrun the monstrous t-rex; but the jungle's denseness betrayed it as an elevated root crossed paths and lynched on of its hind feet.
The beast continued to charge a by some miracle the creature's primal brain shut down and the Maximal psyche took its place.
Dinner had escaped the purple terror as the gorilla contorted and segmented, revealing a robotic form within. Two lights flickered from his back-side and Optimus Primal, originally the trapped gorilla, lifted into the sky as the flickering lights turned out to be twin rocket blasts from a dorsal jet-pack.
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Good thing Waspinator is an idiot… Tarantulas thought as he literally broke into the security system of Megatron's personal quarters to open the door; a violation of several dozen codes of Predacon tyranny and loyalist decree that could be authorized to consequence of punishment and agonizing torture by their tyrannical leader's own hand. Anyone else to have optics peer on what he was doing and he'd be disassembled for scarp for mutinous behavior.
The cybernetic schematics that displayed within his processor, by link up feed from a glowing fire-wire installed into the door's frontal security panel, retracted from the hall to show a white skeleton of the dead bolt door that lead into Megatron's quarters. The red bars displayed the conduit and bolts of the locks. His visor twitched as he mentally installed the security code, his striped mandible hands hovered in air, typing on an imagined keyboard. The seven digits phased into the schematics of the door image, a little victory note sounded and the red shapes of the locks faded to yellow. The animations of the yellow image of the deadbolt locks lifted out from the 2-d square conduits.
This wasn't the first time he had broke into the leader's quarters, though it did takes a few more moments than usual for the 7 digit code was changed this time. Still this was Tarantulas who wanted access to the quarters, and by Unicron, he would get in.
Not long after a beep from the actual door sounded lightly and then a muffled but booming KLAK, as the super-steel dead bolts lifted from their locking chambers.
The door opened.
Just as soon as Tarantulas was enclosed by the shadow of the hall and door frame that was before the neon lines of the floor and ceiling began, Waspinator felt doubt and reasonable fear well up in his internal circuitry and expose him to be a true 'yellow-belly'…'yellow thorax'.
"Um…"
Tarantulas stopped, completely irritated, but he expected this to happen. He put on his best "caring" ruse and turned to face the overgrown wasp.
"Wazz-pinator doesn't think this iz a good anymore… Wazz-pinator knowz Megatron slagz whoever enters his room without an appointment."
The wasp's nervousness created and even whinier pitch to his already nasally, buzzing voice; if such a thing could be achieved.
Tarantulas didn't have time for this, but as to be expected, the evil she spider held his lab under heavy hostage terms. He dare not re-enter his own domain without first consulting Megatron about the unusual activity of their enemy.
"Fine…"
Tarantulas turned knowing his false abandon would attract the wasp into the room like scrap to a super-magnet. He continued walking, the noises made from the wasp's indecision bounced off the walls.
"Mmm-ZZZZZZ!! Wait for me!!!"
This would have to be the first time Tarantulas really noted the décor and personal affects of the room. As he suspected from the persona radiated off the leader mech, it had Megatron written all over it. As the dominant color of Megatron, the very very essence of purple lined and covered everything that was the structure of the room aside from some grey-black metallic and the practically white neon-blue ropes of light on the corners connecting the wall to floor and ceiling. He eyed , with disgust, the bright yellow rubber duck that was tucked half under the sheets in a juvenile fashion that matched the slumbering Tyrannosaur.
There were times that Tarantulas questioned the very fabric of reality of why and how the egotistical dope had remained in power for so long.
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The furious roar of the king beast cut through the thick mist and echoed through the land and sky.
As the jet-packed robot, none other than Optimus Primal, began to zoom forward the T-Rex would charge after him on clawed foot. Its thirst for blood and hunger for flesh propelled each monstrous lunge through the air, the beast did attempt to catch its airborne prey. The last jump, its tooth had scraped the end of the flying robot/gorilla's metal foot. With the next, Optimus Primal would be in his jaws. Finally sweet flesh would caress his tongue as mech fluid poured down his throat like savory nectar.
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"Um… Megatron?"
Waspinator hovered directly over the T-Rex's head. Tarantulas, while still disgusted and perturbed by Megatron's continuation as leader, didn't pass up the viewing pleasure to have a first account at Waspinator's demise.
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A primal urge rushed into his legs like surges of electricity. He crouched on his two legs and broke the restraint on the surge adding an extra boost to his launching legs.
Mist and air parted at his form like the red sea. Drawing closer with every nanosecond his jagged toothed maw sprang open. Optimus Primal looked behind himself just before the deadly jaws closed around his body. The jaws came close together with a sickening crush.
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Tarantulas noticed a very unusual amount of twitches and shudders from the large dinosaur as Waspinator, with every ounce of courage he retained, built up the nerve to continue in attempt to rouse their leader from his intense dreaming.
It couldn't have been a more perfect and hilarious performance, Tarantulas noted as he witnessed the demise before him.
There Waspinator remained hovering in the air, stumbling remarkably over every sentence uttered to wake Megatron up. Then out of nowhere Megatron launched his upper body and head into the air, divorcing all wedlock's with the purple sheets and sending his beloved rubber-duck on an airborne vacation. Eye closed, his previously dopey sleep grin was twisted and split as his sharp toothed maxilla dropped from its closed position, the bulky pink tongue, from the middle of the maxilla curled in anticipation as the jaw co-operated with the rest of the mouth to open remarkably wide and encase around most of Waspinator's body all in the same motion.
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The screams of pain and agony entered his ears and floated in his head like soul warming music. With the crushing power of his jaws the Maximal leader was no doubt segmented in half by the sheer force. Optimus would remain connected so long as his jaws did not depart. The two halves of the Maximal's body danced and jumbled around as the undulating mashing began. Finally the sweet flesh of his prey caressed his tongue and swam in the pools of his saliva. Mech fluid and blood flowed down his throat like a stream of salivary nectar. He continued to chew relaxing the movements of his jaw to a slow mash in order to better enjoy his meal.
To his surprise, the sweet flesh of the Maximal leader didn't taste sweet at all, it tasted….Rather waxy.