Hey everyone! Thanks for reading this far. I will be honest and say that I don't think I'll be able to finish this story before the end of October (it might take me until next October to finish). That just means you get to enjoy the horror all year round.

In this chapter there will be references to events that take place in my story "Wailing in the Night", you guys can find it on my profile page. I wouldn't call it a horror story (more like a cute sparkling hurt/comfort tale).

As always please let me know what you guys think and if you notice any grammar, spelling, or continuity errors (some of these are supposed to be there, but not all of them).

To Bonnie who was the last to review the story, thank you very much! Yeah, I find certain movements to be very unsettling, it might be from the few dance class I've taken or the nurses from the Silent Hill series. I hope you continue to enjoy this story.

Thundercracker put his audio against the door. He heard the distinct sound of metal hitting metal, then a low groan. He sighed. "He's more stubborn than an Insecticon."

Thundercracker groaned in pain. The mech had managed to get a few good swipes at his wings. They stung from the injuries. He manipulated them a few times to see how well they moved. His left wing wouldn't rise much higher than his neutral position and his right one wouldn't bend forward at all.

"I guess I'm not flying out of here," muttered Thundercracker.

The room was dark. A thick layer of dust covered every inch of the room. The holo-photographs that used to cycle through the family's photos had lost their battery charge after so many vorns and the mechanical clock on the wall was stuck at 7 breems past 2 groons. Nothing looked damaged or out of place.

Thundercracker pushed himself off of the wall. He walked to the entrance of the closest room. It was a sitting room. A few chairs were toppled over and a vase that used to hold a crystal plant had shattered. Thundercracker picked up one of the chairs and set it right.

"Nothing's changed," he said. "I almost wish…." Thundercracker shook his helm.

The silence was broken by a small thud from upstairs. Thundercracker tensed. He pulled up his blaster and took off the safety. He would not be caught off guard again. Carefully, Thundercracker approached the stairs. He slowly climbed upwards, making an effort to not make too much noise.

The upper hallway was still. The dust was undisturbed. Maybe something had fallen in one of the rooms. Thundercracker didn't want to take that chance. He kept the blaster up, ready to shoot anything that moved.

He checked the first room. It was large, with a single berth meant for a bonded couple. Thundercracker swept through the room. "Clear," he muttered to himself. He had liked the cop drama's he had seen on Earth. He had watched them often with Ravage.

Thundercracker paused for a moment at one of the shelves. He picked up a painted metal etching of a small family. It was of a Praxian couple holding the small form of a sparkling. Thundercracker felt fluid fill his optics. He brushed one of his servos over the taller Praxian in the etching. He took a deep vent of air and put the image back in its place. He needed to keep his helm on straight before he was consumed by the past.

Thundercracker went back to the hallway. He checked the dusty floor and confirmed that only his ped prints had been through that part of the hallway. The next room he came to was the washracks. Nothing appeared out of place.

That left the last room. Thundercracker had hoped to avoid this room. He stood, staring at the door for a solid breem before he could bring himself to push the door open. The room's once bright colors had faded with time and toys still littered the room. As overwhelming as he felt, Thundercracker couldn't help noticing that the dust in this room had been disturbed. Small spots where the dust had been kicked up were scattered all over the room, the highest concentration near the tiny berth opposite the door.

Thundercracker kept his blaster ready as he approached the berth. If it was another one of the grey mechs, he would easily be able to shoot them from his crouched position. Thundercracker reached out to move the mesh from his view and saw a pair of bright blue optics.

Thundercracker almost fell backwards from shock. He quickly caught himself and put his blaster on the small berth. He, then, tried to make himself look as unthreatening as possible.

"Hello, little one," said Thundercracker. He reached out a servo to the frightened youngling. The youngling covered his optics with his tiny servos. Thundercracker couldn't help his small chuckle. "I can still see you."

The youngling uncovered his optics. He stared at Thundercracker for a few kliks. Thundercracker opened up his arms. "It's alright," he said. "I won't let anything happen to you."

Slowly the youngling crawled out from under the berth. Thundercracker almost expected the tiny mech to pass right through his armor, but he was solid. The youngling was not another ghost from Thundercracker's past. Thundercracker hugged the youngling. He hesitated in asking his next question. It couldn't possibly be who he thought it was.

"What's your name, little one?" he asked.

He waited for a response. None came. Thundercracker pulled the youngling out of the crook of his neck and gazed at him. The youngling was silently crying.

"Can you not speak?" asked Thundercracker.

From behind tiny servos, the youngling nodded.

"Do you know who I am?"

The youngling uncovered his optics and studied the seeker. A look of confusion crossed the youngling's faceplates. He shook his helm no.

"Do you know how you got here?"

Again, the youngling shook his helm no.

Thundercracker hugged the youngling back to his chest. The youngling was warm and very real. There was no way a youngling could have survived all of this time in the dead city. Even more strange was how the youngling got into this room. He surely would have left footprints in the dust if he had been walking around the house. Who was this youngling?

(Break)

Bumblebee maneuvered the small craft closer to the rugged landscape. They were approaching the north eastern part Praxus. It was hard to look at the landscape. The city had been reduced to rubble in a matter of breems and it showed. Towering skyscrapers had fallen in on themselves making the horizon look jagged, like a poorly serrated blade.

Bumblebee had never been to Praxus. He had been found after a major battle, abandoned as a sparkling outside of Crystal City. Praxus had fallen not too long after that and the southern part of Cybertron had been taken by the Decepticons.

Bumblebee looked over at Prowl. He seemed even tenser than usual, doorwings strained in an uncomfortable position. Bumblebee worried his commander might not be able to take the stress of seeing his home in ruins. He had vague memories of Prowl glitching when he had heard the news his city had been attacked.

"Prowl?"

Prowl turned to look at Bumblebee. "Are you alright, sir?"

Prowl shuttered his optics, composing himself. His doorwings relaxed slightly. "It's a difficult sight to see," he admitted to the minibot. Bumblebee nodded in sympathy. "It has been a long time since I've been back."

"There's a signal coming from the western part of the city," said Bumblebee.

"You're sure?" asked Prowl.

"Yes," confirmed Bumblebee. "Do you think its Blue?"

Prowl frowned in his oddly Prowl way. "The odds are that it is Bluestreak's, as Praxus is still a restricted area. We should head to that section."

"I'm also picking up some sort of static," said Bumblebee. "But, it's weird. Almost like it's a pulse. I don't think I've ever heard anything like it. Do you have any ideas?"

Prowl scanned the city. "Hopefully it's nothing," he said. "Let's check out the signal in the western part of city."

"Any thoughts on where I should have us land?" asked Bumblebee.

"There used to be a large open garden near the western temple. Debris there should be minimal," said Prowl.

"Is that close to where we need to go?"

"It will have to be," said Prowl. "The signal is coming from a residential district that suffered the most during the first wave of bombings. I do not want to risk the shuttle falling into a lower level of Praxus."

"Understood sir," said Bumblebee.

The area Prowl had indicated to land was one of the few flat places left in Praxus. Bumblebee easily landed the ship in the open. "Thank Primus we don't have to worry about stealth anymore," he said.

"Hmm," said Prowl. "I'd still prefer if we had more cover for the ship, but it's too risky with how unstable our surroundings are."

"Who's going to attack us out here?" asked Bumblebee. "You don't think any rogue Decepticons or Neutrals are out here?"

"My battle computer has calculated a 5% possibility of there being hostiles in the vicinity," said Prowl. "Though it is unlikely, they could be using a dampener to mask their signal. Praxus has been left mostly untouched since we attempted to rescue any survivors."

Bumblebee winced. He barely remembered the rescue attempts made to help Praxus. He could recall a story about monsters and finding the sole survivor, Bluestreak, crying one night in the medbay. At the time he hadn't realized who Bluestreak was. He thought he was just another youngling who was scared of the big bad monster hiding in the vents.

"I'll keep my blaster ready," said Bumblebee. He pulled out his blaster from subspace and magnetized it to his hip as he stood up.

Prowl nodded. "It would be for the best," he said pulling his own acid rifle out.

The exited the shuttle. Bumblebee kept a look out, while Prowl secured the shuttle. If anyone was wondering around Praxus, they would need Autobot access codes to get inside the shuttle. If Bluestreak came across it first, he should know to send out a message altering Bumblebee and Prowl where he was.

"In the interest of safety, I advise not transforming unless it is necessary," said Prowl. "It wouldn't be ideal if we had two injured mechs in our party." He started walking in the direction of the signal.

"That's if Bluestreak is injured," said Bumblebee. He followed close behind Prowl and kept one optic on the surroundings behind them, once an ops bot, always an ops bot.

The western Praxian temple towered over them as they made their way closer to the signal's origins. Though it had been heavily bombed, the temple was still an impressive sight. It had three towers that still stood, marking three of the five points of Praxus. The two southern points had collapsed into the surrounding buildings. Crystals, that had once been carefully tended too, grew out of every crack in the lower structure and reminded Bumblebee of ivy he had seen growing on old buildings back on Earth.

At one time each of the towers had been painted a separate metallic color. A coppery gold hue was just visible under the grim of the western tower and he could make out traces of an ivory color on the eastern tower. The northern tower, however, did not look as run down as the others. It was a vivid shade of red, almost like the color Sideswipe liked to wear. Unlike the other towers that had multicolored wild crystals clinging to them, the ones growing on the northern tower were all a slightly darker shade of red.

Clink, clank.

Bumblebee jerked around to check that the shuttle was still where it was supposed to be. It was fine. He released his tense shoulders just as Prowl fired a single shot.

Bumblebee raised his blaster, ready to shoot the attacker. They were out in the open and completely vulnerable. It was better to shoot first, ask questions later.

"What was it?" Bumblebee asked. "A Decepticon?" He saw a grey form twitching on the ground. It looked like a mech, but not a live mech. Its armor was a sickly grey color, like how someone looks before they rejoin the Well of Allspark.

"I don't think so," said Prowl. He fired another shot at the twitching mech. "Go, make for the temple as fast as you can."

Bumblebee didn't skip a beat. If Prowl gave an order, you followed it, no questions asked. He sprinted to the closest entrance, Prowl on his heels. He grabbed the ancient door handle and tried to slide the door open only for the handled to break clean off the door. Behind them, he could hear what sounded like uneven footsteps quickly closing in on their location. Prowl fired another shot.

"The door's busted," said Bumblebee.

Prowl picked up a piece of debris and threw it as hard as he could at the second floor window. "Scale the tower and go through that window," he ordered.

Bumblebee scrambled up the side of the tower, using the wild crystals as servo and ped holds, and pulled himself through the window. Prowl fired off another round into their attacker. Bumblebee got into position, vorns of training taking over as he made sure his superior got to safety.

As Prowl climbed through the window, Bumblebee registered that their attacker was moving in an almost impossible manner. Apart from the sickly shade of grey, the mechs helm was hanging on to his frame by a few wires and rested against the mech's chest plate upside down. One of the mech's arms was twisted in an unnatural angle and it looked like a knee joint had been rusted so that he couldn't straighten his leg.

"He just doesn't know when to quit," said Bumblebee.

"No," said Prowl. He pulled out an explosive. "It is unlikely he will be able to follow us up here, but I'd rather not take any chances." He dropped the explosive. As it went off, the crystals they had used to climb up the tower shattered. The mysterious mech was thrown back by the blast. Bumblebee watched with wide optics as he climbed back to his peds, came back to the tower and tried to claw his way up the side of the building.

Prowl watched the mech for a breem as if he were studying a particularly disgusting bug. Bumblebee raised his blaster to shoot at the mech again, but Prowl put a servo on his arm. "It won't do any good," he said. "All it appears to do is slow him down."

"Do you know what that is?" asked Bumblebee.

"I'm not sure," said Prowl. "It seems illogical, but my best guess would be a living corpse somehow reanimated to attack the living."

"Oh Primus," said Bumblebee. "You mean it's a zombie."

"Yes, I suppose that is the best description for it," said Prowl. "We had other names for them when I was a youngling."

"So, how do we kill it? Do we need to decapitate it or crush its spark?" asked Bumblebee.

"It doesn't have a spark," said Prowl. "If I remember correctly, the only ways to destroy the reanimated was the use of a blessed crystal from Primus, a mere cut will release the evil holding the corpse and it will collapse. That or melt it with corrosive acid."

"And your acid gun didn't work because…?" asked Bumblebee.

"Insufficient quantity," said Prowl. "And I believe the acid needs to have cosmic rust mixed in so that the reanimated mech's frame disintegrates."

"Well, that's just great," said Bumblebee. "Where are we going to get either of those things?"

"Where indeed," said Prowl.