(Thank you all for your patience and reviews, it gives me great joy to let you all read this, however short it is. I kinda needed a bit of a break from the norm, and if your just a little bit perceptive, then you can tell what's going to happen in the future!

It is short, really short I know, but it's also necessary. It tells how fast things will progress, and how she might change, for the better or the worse, I don't know.

Getting darker, isn't it? And it can only get worse before it gets better~

Thank you to Zayren Heart for the One-shots she did, and the one she's doing! Err, did. They will both be posted on my profile, so go take a peek when ever ya'll like!

OMG FIFTY CHAPTERS WOOT!)

My fists hit the punching bag, my claws tore at the face of the Decepticon I had drawn on there so long ago. It already had bits of its insides peeking out through slash marks I had made the previous minutes ago. My legs swung around, my toe claws slitting in a motion that would have rendered a human in half, and would have possibly gutted a Decepticon.

It felt good to hurt the punching bag. It was wonderful, to hurt something without actually hurting it. It was a terrifying feeling. I never want to hurt anything, save the mini twins on occasion and Decepticons.

It's been a week. A long, tiring week. Long, because I am alone in my spark, in my mind, but I am physically surrounded by bots and humans who care. Tiring, because I've been confronted several times by Elita, with her nagging me about the fact that I wont stay with them as a family, even though every time I am in the same room as Leo, he starts up his unholy shrieking.

I've tried to shove it away; I really have, but its like trying to say that I'm okay when I've lost my leg or an arm. People give me sympathetic looks, or say things to me that bring it crashing back at full force, even when they don't mean to do so.

Tiring, because I hear things now, in the back of my processor, and I see things out of the corner of my optics. They talk, they laugh, they shout, they mock. They whisper little nothings in my ears, telling me things I could do. Things I could hurt people with. They degrade me, they infuriate me. It hurts, it hurts so much.

The worst part is, the voices are all belong to my Human mother.

"You are nothing without them! Weak! Pathetic!" She says to me. "Hurt them, harm them, and make them pay!"

I haven't told Ratchet, partly because I can usually deal with the voice myself. I tune it out, or tell it to go away. It never does, but it makes me feel a little bit better to know I can still resist its words, and demands, the images they send me, ones that sicken me to the point I want to purge my tanks. Ratchet says that the progression of insanity is usually quickened by stress, but sometimes, a fair amount he had seen, it didn't take but a few days to start feeling the affects.

Images flood my mind, views of my human family dead, with me ripping them apart piece by piece, occasionally flinging them into the air, juggling them, and then shoving a claw up and out their mouths. The twins, impaled on a couple spikes with me literally eating their sparks out, one at a time as they slowly watch and die, their sweet screeches of anguish sung such a saccharine lullaby to my ears.

My father chained to a ceiling, as I slowly pull off his limbs and shred them with my claws. I saw myself reaching up and planting a daughterly kiss on his cheek, and hugging him around the neck, only to suddenly find myself wrenching his head from his shoulders and chucking it away only to dig around inside his body to crush his spark.

Little Leo, sitting in my arms giggling and happy, with me smiling and happy, in a pile of dead carnage. Then my face would darken into a twisted smile, and I watched the image as I leaned down and bit his head off with my teeth.

My vocal chords gave a loud roar; I twirled and backhanded the punching bag hard enough the chain holding it creaked ominously. As it slowed in its rapid swinging, I went ridged, threw my head back and let out the loudest mechanical roar I could.

I whirled around and stalked to the showers, my claws sliding back in on a reflex. I stepped in and turned it onto cold, and let it cool me down as I flopped down on my aft and curled my knees up to my chassis and hugged them to me. I sat there, in a kind of fetal position, just letting the icy water run over me and through my armor, cooling off over heated circuitry and cables.

Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see something small, a short blurry figure that disappeared as I tried to look at it fully.

"Oh honey, we know it hurts," My mothers voice crooned softly. It was that tone, though it had a hidden insanity that just brushed the surface, that I remembered so well from my mother. "But it will all go away, if you only-"

"No." I murmured. "I wont hurt them. No. Not my family."

The voice pulled a one eighty turn. "But they're not your family, now are they?" She hissed.

"Neither are you." I shot back. The voice forced a new image into my head, standing out like a beacon. It was horrid, to horrid to share. I rolled to my knees and with a nasty noise, emptied my tank down the drain, the brightly colored energon rolling down my faceplates and mixing into the water as it slipped silently down the drain. I stood myself up and gave myself a shake as I turned the water off, letting rivulets of water roll down my frame. "Now go crawl back into your corner and die." I hissed and wiped my mouth with a spare rag that was lying around.

"Now, now," it chirped. "I can't go and do that, leaving you all alone. Oh wait, I can. Your already alone." That was a low blow, and even it seemed to know it. I gave a wince as I left the gym, turning on my heels to head outside and away from everyone.

I wanted to go back to the twin's room, well, technically ours since they pretty much don't let me leave to sleep anywhere else, and maybe try and catch a nap. Sleeping though, doesn't do well unless one of the twins is there, or someone else baby-sits. Unless someone is there, then the voice invades my dreams, tormenting my mind with images, false lusts, false wants. The worst part of the dreams though, is that the false things feel so real. Like I really was shoving my hand through the sparkling, lapping happily at its life-blood. Like I enjoyed the taste of my fathers spark, as I slowly cut it to pieces, eating it as I went along.

Horrid, horrid things I could feel, and the part of me that made the voice wanted more of the carnage, destruction, rage, and hatred.

As I walked out of the building and onto the tar mat, I caught sight of the Lennox family, who came for a short visit. I gave a short wave to little Annabelle, who waved back energetically. I then continued on my way, twitching my wings at the figure in the corner of my optics that followed my every move.

As I was walking into the main building, I caught sight of something that brought my mothers voice back into my consciousness. Optimus feeding Leo, in the same way he had fed me, not so long ago.

"It would be so easy." She whispered in the back of my mind. "They wouldn't know until it would be too late, to late to do anything." She purred. "Just walk up, all normal like. Then strike."

I twitched, narrowed my optics and then forcefully stalked away when I felt my claws twitch at the thought that my voice pushed into my mind.

I walked along to the room I shared with the twins, and then entered. The twins were on their break, and had been lounging on the bed, sleeping. I quietly slipped up, and then crawled up along until I was where I usually slept. The blanket was off, so it was just us on the bed.

The twins opened their arms and pulled me down. I was tucked to Sideswipe, with Sunstreaker pressed behind me. Seemingly in their sleep, they knew something was bothering me, so they began mumbling sweet little nothings in my ears, sleepy ones albeit, but swill sweet ones.

The only thing that ruined it, was the temporarily fading voice that was mocking them in a similar tone of voice.

"Easy, love." They tiredly murmured. I don't even think they realized just what the hell they were saying. "Sleep, we're here."