A/N OMP FIRST CHAPTER. XDDDDD FINALLY~~

Smokescreen's optics flew open.
"Wh….wha..?" He murmured, trying to sit up. He found that he couldn't. Something was holding him down… Venting a quick intake, he looked around once his optics were clear again. "What?" He struggled against the restraints keeping him against the tilted berth. Smokescreen could say no more, stunned into speechlessness.
The room was dark, and he couldn't see too far, but he could make out a few things. A table was in the shadows to his left. There were some shiny things on it, but he couldn't tell what they were in the darkness. Smokescreen had his back pressed up against the berth, tilted a measurement between completely horizontal and 45 degrees. Strong restraints held his wrists, ankles, neck, and waist down in a spread-eagle position. His shoulders were strapped to the berth as well, and his doorwings were spread behind him, flat against the berth. The young mech struggled vainly, only succeeding in making himself tired. He gave a grunt of frustration, trying again to peer through the dark.
Suddenly, a door opened to his right. Smokescreen whipped his helm around to look, rather uncomfortably, due to the restraint tight around his neck.
Dark chuckling filled the room eerily. At the sound, Smokescreen narrowed his optics in disgust. He knew that voice. "Knockout," He spat contemptuously, saying it as if it was a bad taste in his mouth.
The very mech walked into view at that moment, hardly more visible than two crimson, glowing optics and a faint red outline.
"Oh, you remembered my name! How lovely of you. And of course, I remembered yours, Smokescreen." Knockout leered. Smokescreen shuddered. He never liked any Decepticon, much less their insane medic. "How are you enjoying your position? Maybe I should make you more comfortable, hmm?" The red mech taunted, optics narrowing with a dangerous light in them, a smirk upturning the corners of his mouth. Smokescreen lightened for a blip of a second, then realized it must be some kind of trick, and frowned. As if in answer to Smokescreen's thoughts, Knockout pressed a button on a datapad he held in his servo. Almost immediately, more restraints shot out around his joints. "There," Knockout sighed, laughter in his voice. Lustful laughter. Lust for torture.
Smokescreen's spark beat faster. He felt he knew what was coming. His mind raced and he felt his stomach tank lurch.
"What are you going to do to me?" He blurted, nervousness making his voice waver in the higher notes. Fear filled his optics.
Knockout only grinned wider, revealing spotless white denta.
"Why, what do you think? Look around yourself," Knockout purred evilly, giving the command for the lights to turn on. Smokescreen's jaw dropped, unable to even gasp. The room was big enough to not make one feel claustrophobic, but it wasn't exactly a throne room, either. Just big enough to satisfy and feel comfortable. The four walls, floor, and ceiling were metallic gray, and there were tons upon thousands of assorted shelves on one of the walls. The table Smokescreen had seen earlier was proved to be a bit bigger than first thought, and there was another long one stretching the length of the wall next to the shelf-covered wall. But what made Smokescreen feel like someone had punched him was what it was filled with. The berth Smokescreen was on was splattered with the dried energon of lost victims, and so were most of the walls. Some lifeless, gunmetal gray chassis parts were strewn across the unkempt floor, and the lights revealed that on the shelves were hundreds of helms. Helms severed sloppily and horrendously from what used to be living bodies. All of them had their optics gored out, leaving eerie, empty black holes encrusted with dried energon. They all had fear and pain lines drawn in what was left of their drying, torn faceplates. Some of them had fallen off their rack, leaving one or two heads rolling around on the floor.
The long table had intakes, t-cogs, empty stomach tanks, engines, sparkchambers with lifeless sparks still in them, some chassis and framework pieces, and all kinds of other Cybertronian body parts. Energon still oozed from the dead remains, leaving puddles on the floor.
To Smokescreen's surprise, he saw Megatron's old arm, the one he had switched for the Prime arm, hanging as a wall ornament, like a trophy. The entire place had the stench of spilled energon and death.
Even though he was horrified, the Autobot's curiosity won him out and he cautiously turned his head to see what was on the table he'd seen first, before the lights were on…and his breath was torn from him. His optics grew so wide they hurt. Placed neatly on the table were organized assorted torture tools. Drills, scalpels, saws, knives, whips, and more primitive, sharp weapons that still had caked energon on them, but it was obvious they were all recently sharpened. Smokescreen gave a yelp of distress, writhing in his restraints. He could almost feel Knockout ripping into him, and his spark hammered in his throat.
Knockout frowned at him. "What is it? Nervous? Oh, don't worry about it. I'll let you live longer, and besides, we'll have fun," The Decepticon 'medic' smiled genuinely, but a disturbing twinkle remained in his optics.
Smokescreen felt himself slack. No. No, no no no no no no no no. NO. NO! Mortification and horror made his optics grow even wider and his mouth opened. Suddenly he found it difficult to breathe, visibly trembling.
"No! NO! LET ME GO!" He shrieked, fighting the cuffs holding him down. Knockout pouted.
"Well, that isn't very nice! I brought you here to have fun, and now you say that you want to leave?" He griped, looking insulted. Then he sighed. "Oh, well. I understand. I know it doesn't look like much, I used to have a better room for these occasions…when I became the Decepticon medic, I had to give it up. I'll do my best to make you satisfied anyway," He muttered.
He looked at the tools on the table next to Smokescreen, as if deciding which one to choose. "Which one do you suggest I use first? Oh, wait, I have an idea. I can just do it the way I usually do." He picked up the scalpel, gripping it tight in his claws. Smokescreen gasped and squirmed as Knockout brought it close to the Autobot symbol on his chest, feeling like he was going to cry.
"Relax, this won't– …well, I can't say that this won't hurt, but that's the fun of it!" Knockout chirped happily. Smokescreen let out a moan of distress at Knockout's eagerness.
"P-please, Knockout! Just leave me alone, I want to live!" Smokescreen sobbed, and then realized his mistake too late. Knockout smiled sweetly at him.
"Oh, you want to live! I understand, now. You want to feel the pain! You're such a genius, Smokescreen. Making it even more fun for the both of us!" The mech smiled wider. Smokescreen wanted to sink through the floor with embarrassment. He had just made it worse for himself. Knockout looked back down at Smokescreen's chest. "As I was saying…ah, yes. My usual way," He contemplated, positioning the scalpel over the Autobot symbol again. Smokescreen's internal fans roared to life suddenly as he tried to look away.
With a terrible scream from Smokescreen, Knockout stabbed the sharp part of the tool into Smokescreen's metal, slowly carving a ragged circle around the red-painted symbol. Smokescreen groaned heavily in pain, writhing desperately and optics shut tight. He screamed again. Finally, Knockout took the scalpel out. Smokescreen took the few precious seconds to catch his breath, even though the nerve-wracking agony still throbbed in his chest. Just then, Knockout dug his servo into the near-circular cut. Smokescreen's own yell tore his throat, and he attempted to kick his legs. Knockout grinned wide, optics blank with savage lust, and slowly, slowly tore away the metal slab. Smokescreen stifled yelps, thrashing frantically. With a sickening ripping noise, the circle tore away.
Knockout enthusiastically waved the slab in front of Smokescreen's face, laughing.
"Isn't this great?" He asked, already giddy and drawling his words with the sadist's joy. Smokescreen's optics watered, a small sob choking out of him. This was terrible. Just terrible.
Knockout tossed the metal onto the table and ripped away Smokescreen's shoulder insignias as well, adding them to an already existent pile in the corner.
"STOP! Please, stop," The white mech wailed, voice growing high and watery in desperation. Knockout frowned.
"Oh, come on, Smokescreen. I've had sparklings stand up to this better than you," He taunted. Smokescreen felt like shrinking, yet anger flared up in him. He did this to sparklings, too? The sick wretch! He…he MUST'VE been joking…right? No one has the spark cruel enough to do that to innocent sparklings! Even as he thought that, he remembered the smaller chassis parts throughout the room…
Energon was spurting out of Smokescreen's new wounds like a fountain. Smokescreen focused on breathing, slowly, steadily, and ignoring the pain…hard to do when there's energon trickling down your chest from a yawning hole that felt like it was aflame with pain.
Knockout watched, optic ridges furrowing. Hmm…maybe he should take off a couple restraints, so he could see Smokescreen squirm more. Yes, that'd be nice…he smiled to himself at the image forming in his brain pan about the Autobot struggling vainly…
The red mech went back to his datapad, touching a couple buttons and leaving only ankle and wrist restraints. The other shackled slid back into the berth and disappeared with small metallic clicking sounds. Smokescreen opened his optics in surprise, looking at Knockout quizzically. Knockout flashed a smile coolly at him, narrowing his optics to slits. "Oh, this is just to see you squirm more. It's no fun when you can't move, now, is it?" He explained nonchalantly. Smokescreen tensed, a mix of hate and fear in his blue optics.
"You are a monster," He whispered hoarsely at the Decepticon, his voice shaking. Knockout blinked.
"Who taught you manners? You're being so rude today…" Knockout sounded disappointed. Then he shrugged it off. "Let's just get on with it. We're wasting time. And time, as you know, is precious. Each klik of being online is special! I end that time for a lot of bots, though. I preserve them for longer by doing things slowly. Such a great idea, isn't it?" Knockout spoke quickly, appearing excited and insane to any mech around him. Smokescreen could only watch in horror as the red medic picked up a quite large knife and waved it happily. "This is an old favorite of mine, and I use it every time I do this! I sharpened it today, so you can experience it at the top of its game. I hope you enjoy it!"
Knockout looked happy. Very happy.