A/N: Welcome to the next chapter... hope you've been enjoying all my stories and chapters so far, this has been extremely fun!
~*O*~-~*O*~-~*O*~
A faint ticking noise permeated my processor, and I cracked a optic open, scanning the room around me for anyone.
It was empty, but a strange device sat out of my reach, and from it came the ticking noise.
Chains once more encased my body, and a extra chain held me to the floor. I tuned my audios, searching outside the walls for any indication that the Autobots were out there.
I heard one, muttering to himself, and I searched for any more. There were none, and I figured they were on a mission of some sort.
Idly, I kept track of the single remaining Autobot. There was nothing else to do, and gathering info would be wise.
Or I could search my memory file for anymore news on my past...
I shoved the thought aside for the time being. Later.
Focusing my olfactory sensors, I drew in the scent of electricity, desert wind, and Energon. The subtle hints of sage and cactus in the tiny breezes that slipped through the cracks of the room told me I was probably in a desert somewhere.
An organic suddenly filtered across my olfactories, and I blew the hot air out of my muzzle in astonishment. They had a organic? And a human one as well?
Curious. I shall find out more.
All Predacons had minor heat-vision, and I activated mine. It was nothing great, but I could see the vaguest outline of a wide human organic, coming slowly down the elevator. The Autobot stood near the screens, and when he heard the elevator ding, he hastily clicked something away.
Strange. Do the Autobots wish to hide their movements?
I switched my heat vision off, resting my head upon my peds. The helm-ache had grown, and I moaned softly.
Someone shouted outside my room, and I slowly raised my helm, preparing to listen in. A sharp, white-hot flash of pain seared through my helm, and everything went black.
The Predaconian femme trod softy through the great halls of the palace, humming quietly under her breath as she swung a large sword in her servos.
She passed great windows, decorated with pictures depicting various scenes. In one, a large black and grey Predaconian battled with a bird-like Predaconian, who was much bigger.
Fire blasted from both maws, and blue streaks littered the ground.
In another, a completely oppisite scene was shown. A mother Predaconian was shown cradling her newsparked, whislt another peered over her shoulder at the newsparked.
But the Predaconian femme paid no attention to any of this. Instead, she focused on walking directly on a line in the floor.
She stopped in front of a doorway, looking about for any one else, then darted quickly inside, shutting the door without a sound with practiced ease.
The room she entered was dark, but all Predaconians had natural night-vision, and thus, she moved without hesitation through the dark.
Stopping behind a large object, she tapped on the wall in a certain pattern. The door slid open, and she was greeted with absolute silence and darkness.
She stepped in hesitantly, peering about. "H-Hello?" She called, tucking her sword into it's crystal hilt.
A snarl sounded behind her, and she whirled, servos grasping for her sword. Two glowing yellow optics hovered behind her, their owner's bulk blocking out all light from the adjoining room.
She gasped, and the attacker hissed, leaping at her.
I woke with a gasp, yanking my helm up only to experience painfulness as the chain stopped my helm short.
"Whoah! Careful there, wouldn't want more chains on ya now, would ya?" The white Autobot with the twin swords leaped back, servos up.
A large Energon crystal was in front of me, and it was apparant he was going to feed me.
I ignored him, thinking back on the strange vision/dream I had had. Who was that femme? Why did she seem so familiar? And did she survive the attack?
Helm riddled with questions, I barely noticed my helm's freedom, eating the Energon chunk without a second thought.
I tapped my claw on the ground in thought, then a idea hit me. I knew how to write, at least in one language, prehaps the Autobots knew it as well?
But how to write? I wished my ped was free so I could scratch at the metal floor, but I knew that wouldn't happen. I don't have anything else to write with...
I licked my chops with my glossa, thinking, thinking... I noticed the Autobot picking up the chains. I must think of something, quick!
Pulling my helm back, I resisted his efforts, until he finally walked over to the machine that had been ticking near the wall. Pressing a button on it, a light-colored fluid ran through the clear line it was attached to. I watched the fluid's progress, then realized the line was attached... to ME!
I hissed angrily at the Autobot, before I began sinking into unconsciousness.
Once more the ticking noise invaded my processor, and I lifted my helm slowly. At least now I have more time to think until the next feeding.
Feeding... Energon... Writing... energon, writing! Writing with Energon! I could reach my peds with my helm, but wouldn't be able to draw with my peds securely fastened to the floor, neither could I claw marks.
I bit into my glossa hard enough to draw Energon, then wrote the first symbol on the floor. Then the second. Once I ran out of places to write on the floor, I began on my parts of my frame that I could reach.
The Energon didn't work very well, running off my armor in streakes and pooling on the floor. My vision went static for a moment, and I realized I had used to much of my Energon. It continued to run out of my maw, and I couldn't hold my helm up right.
My vision staticed once more, then fritzed into heat-vision for a second. With it I saw the human. With him there they wouldn't check on me!
Not being able to roar with the chains around my half-open maw, I drew in a big breath, then let out a eerie wail.
Nothing happened, and my vision went black for the final time.
~*O*~-~*O*~-~*O*~
The Autobots were gathered around Fowler as he ranted about "pancaking mini-malls" and other things.
It was necassary! Wheeljack thought, putting away his swords after sharpening them. They had been here for a while now, and Wheeljack was getting quiet tired of this.
Tuning out the human's speech, he thought of other things. Like the Predacon for example. Strange one. Seemed to be scared of the chains.
He shrugged. Like he cared about a Predacon. He tuned his audios to the Predacon's room for a second, but didn't hear anything.
He turned back to examining his servos when he definitely heard something. He wasn't sure what it was, but he had heard it before. And it had come from the Predacon's room. He glanced at Ratchet.
The medic's armor was flat against his frame, and he turned his gaze from the Predacon's room to meet Wheeljack's optics.
They both turned to other team members, but none of them save Arcee seemed to have heard anything.
"I, uh, got to, check my... um..." Wheeljack cast desperatly for a excuse. "Pet! Um, yeah, pet..." He rushed down the hall, dimly aware of Fowler's yelling and Prime's soothing baritone.
He slammed the door open, dropping his sword as he took in the sight. Energon. Everywhere. All over the Predacon as well as the floor for a good area around it.
Arcee peered around him, then hollered for Ratchet, talking in Cybertronian. "It's a mess Ratchet! Energon everywhere!"
Ratchet barreled down the hall, knocking Wheeljack aside. "Get Fowler out of here! He doesn't need to know about this."
Wheeljack grabbed the complaining man, shoving him gently into the elevator. "Hey! What's going on? You can't do th-" The doors shut, and Wheeljack raced back. Ratchet was exmaining everything professionally.
"It's just her glossa. She bit it, and it's nearly coming off at the tip. Then she spread it everywhere. "
Bumblebee made a gasping noise. "Why would she do that?!"
"I don't know... I don't know."
~*O*~-~*O*~-~*O*~
A/N: Death by tongue bite! XD
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