Hey everybody! Cool Jay here with chapter two!

I've been working very hard on this one, and want it to be as great as possible. If there's anything wrong with it (grammar, syntax, etc.), let me know, okay?

Enjoy! :D

Transformers Prime: Ordeal

~Act I, Chapter II~

I scoffed in disappointed as clouds of gray threatened to cloak the sun and cast a large shadow over the small city. I had hoped for the sun to keep filling this town with its warm radiant beams, as I had plans on buying ice cream and sitting on a bench in a park. That's what I usually did after band practice.

Now I had to switch over to plan B, in other words, window-shopping. It was a one-way method that helped me stray away from worries, such as the upcoming school exams or the concert that my school was organizing. The slightest thought of any of these things put me under pressure; everyone had high expectations of me, ranging from teachers and parents to friends and the school community, and the last thing I wanted was to disappoint any of them. I didn't need to be reminded of those fears, which is why window-shopping was helpful. That activity kept my mind busy, filling it with wishes and desires until my responsibilities and obligations were forgotten, at least for the time being.

Strolling down the streets of the city, I stopped in my tracks when a cosmetics store lured me in. I walked into the store, combing down isles of beauty esthetics, searching for the appropriate eye-shadow, inspecting the different shades and colors. My mind drifted away from schoolwork, but it didn't leave out the thoughts concerning Mikey and the development of his new, adventurous life. I sighed almost in exasperation, but opted for a more gentle thought. His curiosity had always made him reckless, indulging him to seize whatever rare opportunity he could to satisfy his longing for excitement. In some ways, I envy him. He is optimistic and daring, even when things seem to be taking a turn for the worse, and me...

I cannot help but recollect the events that have had an impact in my life. The day when we went to the junkyard and found a whole bunch of robots talking to each other made me realize that, in the end, we weren't as alone as we thought we were in the universe. But unlike Mikey, I was skeptical, always thinking of the risks of our involvement instead of the benefits of that extraordinary discovery. We could be harmed, or, in the worst case scenario, dead. When I think back, I remember how terrified I was when seeing these robots. That's why I had urged Mike that we leave the place before they noticed us. And in those anxious moments, I became clumsy, pushing Mike too much and causing a pile of garbage to tumble and fall. What we tried to avoid, we made it happen in an instant. We made our presence known, and at the first sign of the robots approaching us, we ran like hell.

When trying to run away, all I could think of was what would happen to us if we were caught, and I feared for the worst outcome. That's when I went for my phone and dialed 911. As I put the phone to my ear, it rang momentarily before nothing but static was heard. We couldn't count on any help. Maybe we didn't need any; I believed that we maybe had the chance of getting away, because the exit was only a couple of feet away. All those futile hopes were gone in just a moment as I was roughly scooped up from the ground by what I thought was the edgiest bars I've ever held onto. Only later did I realize that those bars were the fingers of another robot. His crimson eyes looked at me and he made no effort to hide the malicious glee on his face.

"Well, what do we have here? One of the Autobots' pets?" He sneered, examining me like some sort of tool.

I didn't understand what that meant, nor did I care much about it. I just knew I was going to hurt or die if nothing was being done. I remember hearing Mike's yell as he called my name, but it felt so faint as I was completely terrorized by the robotic monster holding me. He, on the other hand, glanced down at Mike, but returned his attention to me when his smile had widened into a malevolent grin. From then on, I noticed the presence of more purple-painted robots, and that was when he muttered his order:

"Exterminate the other Fleshling. We don't need the extra leverage."

Horrified, I looked down at Mike, who now had guns pointed at him. I knew sneaking into the junkyard spelled trouble, but I couldn't believe the mess we had gotten ourselves into. Was this how I was going to live my last moments, watching my friend disintegrate, burning until nothing but ash remained? I had my phone in my hands, the number dialed, my finger on the call button. Even if it didn't work before, I had the chance of trying again. But I didn't. My finger was immobile, frozen in place. I couldn't scream, despite the possibility of someone hearing me. I was too scared, stiff like a fragile porcelain statue, moments before being crushed in the rough, metallic grip of the robot. With nothing else to do, I watched the other robots take aim at Mike and, trembling, listened to the whir of charging weapons.

The order was thankfully interrupted by the resounding detonations and zipping gunshots. The soldiers averted their guns and fired at the robots we first. They came running towards us like a stampede, relentless and unstoppable. The silver robot growled, tightening his grip as a groan escaped my mouth.

"You spoiled our surprise-attack!" he snarled at me, but his frown quickly twitched into smirk. "No matter. I could always have great use of you."

His low sneer and piercing stare had triggered an overwhelming sense of terror like I've never experienced before. I didn't want any of this. I didn't want to get hurt, and as his face drew closer, I... I'm not entirely sure what happened. I felt like I was caught in a surreal world where everything but the robot seemed nonexistent and devoid of all importance. In those everlasting moments, when facing the Chimera of my nightmare, I shut my eyes and threw my phone at him. What I didn't expect was that it would actually hit his left eye.

His screech forced my eyes open, and by mere accident, for someone like me who is incapable of inflicting harm on others, I had seen the terrible damage I had done. The silver-winged robot slouched and cried, as if overtaken by the most excruciating pain I've ever seen, and he clutched onto the left side of his face with his left hand, trying to contain the liquid and sparks that spat out of his socket.

"You filthy-"

He was immediately cut off by another robot that had assaulted him, and during the clash, I slipped from his grip and dropped hard to the ground. I heard Mike's cry again and jumped to my feet, running towards him as fast as I could. And in the pandemonium, all hell broke loose as explosions emerged from everywhere. And then blackness.

It was momentarily, though. Something had picked me up and I found myself in a matter of seconds in a car seat. I was too shocked and confused to the bone to react or to even care. I didn't even notice Mike was in the car until we had to get out. My astonishment didn't end there as the car unfolded and refolded itself to build up into one of the robots from earlier.

And that was how I met these robotic aliens. They claimed to be friendly, and I do owe one of them my life for saving me. But I wasn't ready for this kind of adventure, and I don't think I'll ever be. This whole event was nothing more than a traumatizing mishap, and I felt I was charged with the burden of a war that promised misery beyond what I could imagine. I was also too scared of them. Even if those Autobots – if I recall correctly – were genuinely good, I was still frightened by them. The truck-transforming leader scared the hell out of me, and his face approaching me didn't make it any easier for me to deny that emotion, especially after I facing the cruelty of machine-like warriors and the fierceness of the war-driven battle. I don't even know or understand how Mikey can't see how dangerous such a life is. Maybe his naivety prevents him from seeing the full picture that I was seeing. He even thinks that I aimed and blinded that monster on purpose.

Like earlier today, he keeps asking me whether or not I want to hang out with the Autobots and get to know them better. I know he means all well; deep down in his heart, he wants to share that amazement he feels when being with those alien robots. He also wants me to have a good time and make sure I'm being left out, missing out on all the fun as he would say. But for someone like me who was raised to be the best in whatever I do and to be as responsible, I knew that being with them would require an extra responsibility, and I didn't need any of that when I already have a ton of them weighing on my back. On top of that, one battle was enough for me to understand the serious dangers of the war that is being waged.

It's just too much for me.

I don't hate my saviors, on the contrary, I am eternally grateful to them. But involving myself in their lives meant involving myself in their battles, and I am not as courageous as Mike. I am satisfied with my life, despite its ups and down, and I don't want to change that.

Saving lives is for heroes, not a schoolgirl who took a wrong aim and got lucky.

I stopped contemplating while holding onto a box of eye-shadow. I sensed a slight tremble. I lifted my head up and looked over to another customer. Eye brows creased in confusion, she, too, seemed to have felt the anomaly at work here. The tremble grew into a series of strong quakes, the whole store shaking as cosmetics fell and clattered, dancing to rhythm of the tremors. People sunk to their knees and covered their heads, following the precautionary measures for earthquakes. I did same and went to the ground. Earthquakes weren't frequent, but happened every once in a while. We all knew that it was a matter of time until the cataclysm stopped.

Oh, how wrong we all were. As we hoped for the quakes to end, explosions suddenly erupted from outside as cars raced through. However faint, the discharge of guns resonated across the street and the screams of civilians reached our ears. I had the sudden feeling of déjà-vu, and that's when I understood that the area had suddenly become a battle zone. I made connections, figuring out who was behind the attack, and then came a strange sound. In that one precise moment, I began to relive the memory.

A sequence of crunching noises and locomotive sounds, a mayhem of explosive proportions almost as an aftereffect. I knew the answer, and I couldn't believe it was happening all over again.

"Decepticons! This city is ours for the taking!"

I was terrified in place, and watched as everybody ran out of the shop. There, I realized I had committed my greatest stupidity. The customers weren't warned of the dangers I knew of. It was too late though, and in shame and fear, I hid behind the isle of body-lotions and shampoos and covered my head, shutting my eyes, praying that I was sleeping in my bed and having nightmares that I would eventually wake up from. No matter how hard I tried to avoid it, the past caught up with the present once again as history began to repeat itself. Only this time, it was worse than I could have ever dreamed of.

Among the echoing series of gunshots and explosions came the terrifying screams of the dying. Tears streamed out of my eyes, my fears coming to life. After every thunderous footstep of the destructive robots, more and more products tumbled and fell on me, and I shielded myself while trying to keep still. I didn't even dare to take a breath. More screams of men and women made me quiver uncontrollably and I jolted from my place when the store's windows were blown apart, shards of glass shattering on the ground. In my mind, I was begging for these terrible events to stop.

I don't remember how long I waited until things quieted down, but it felt like eternity to me. The detonations had grown fainter, distant. I took a deep breath and dared to see how it looked like outside. I crawled closer to the end of the isle and took a quick peek. Past the broken windows, I watched as a quietness so deadly roamed the streets, with the exception cars that occasionally burst on fire. I had already spotted the first victim, and pulled my head back in shock. It was a kid. Younger than me by at least five years. And he was...

I felt so nauseous at that moment. There was an urge that came from the pit of my stomach, fueled by extreme shock, but I resisted. Not now, Rachel, I told myself, keep it together and get help.

An unexpected, clangorous stomp nearly obstructed my heart to beat. As a form of reflex, I peeked once again from the corner. A sole, black robot had appeared and he treated over the wreckage of the streets. He tilted his head to the already dead child I had seen. He let out a low, gnarling laugh, and fired at him.

With a mix of anger, disgust and fear, I retracted my head and covered my wet face. Those ungodly, spiteful monsters... How could they be so heartless and...

I tried to breathe steadily, but my heart was racing and my limbs trembled hectically. I had to calm down and get help. If that one found me here, I would...

I fumbled clumsily into my pocket and pulled out my mobile-phone. I couldn't control my shaking hands, even my fingers felt as though they were too weak to press on any button. There was only one person who could help me out, and if I wasn't mistaken, he was hanging out with the ones who could take care of these murdering monsters.

With the numbers finally dialed, I waited. It rang once. Twice. Three times. I lost count as more explosions resumed, sending tremors throughout the area.

Finally, he picked up. "Y'ello?"

"Mikey? It's me." I whispered, unable to hide the edge in my voice.

"Rachel! Hey, what's-" An explosion was heard on the other line. "Uhh, Rach', I'm gonna have to call you back. Prowl and I are downtown, and looks like we just got into HUGE trouble."

I could never understand how he could be calm AND amused at such a situation. Panic and frustration overwhelmed me. "MIKEY! I AM downtown! These robots are just outside my door, killing anyone and anything that moves!"

"What? What the hell are you-" His sudden change of attitude expressed his way of serious concern, but he still managed to keep his calm. "Okay, which shop?"

"I'm at-" I stopped when the line went all of a sudden static. "Hello? Mikey?" The static grew louder, and then a voice came through.

"Surrender, fleshling."

Paralyzed, my strength bereft, I dropped the phone. The clunking footfalls grew louder, and with the little strength I had recovered, I peeked again.

The robot outside was heading for the shop.

Submerged by panic, I scurried to my feet and dashed through isles, boxes and glasses shattering across the floor as I hustled for the back door of the shop. The door led me to a narrow alleyway that connected two streets. I hurried down a small flight of stairs when I heard a blaring honk. Luck seemed to be on my side this time. I breathed a sigh of relief when I spotted a familiar police car rolling towards me.

"Oh God, am I glad to see you. Look, these robots are everywhere! They even picked up my phone call, and I think they know where I..."

Words were stuck in my throat as I watched the vehicle transform. The parts snapped and shifted out of their place and were roughly shoved elsewhere, disappearing into the mass of machinery with metal-grinding, ear-splitting noise. It wasn't anything like the robot I knew, whose name I couldn't remember. This transformation showed too many signs of hostility; it raised its fists and immediately brought them back down, pounding just a couple of feet before me. I stumbled back and recalled his name. Prowl. It wasn't Prowl. A quick, rough grab and I was within the robot's grasp. I watched in horror as this machine continued transforming. I gasped. I had spotted a marking on its chest, and delving into my nightmares I remembered seeing a similar insignia on the chest of my former captor.

A head popped out of the chest, glaring at me with sick, vicious eyes. "Rachel Hawkins."

His low, animalistic chuckle compelled me to hold my breath, and I stared at him with horrified eyes. How did he know my name? What else did he know about me? What did he want with me? Whatever it would be, only by looking into his face could I tell that his intent was of pure malice and sadistic delight.

Sensing that danger, I struggled in his grip, trying to pull myself out or slip through his fingers. I had to get out of this mess and get as far away as I could. In my most desperate moments, the strength seemed nonetheless so faint as my arms trembled in fright. My effort was fruitless, for his grip was too tight and too powerful to budge. My struggle obliged him to clench me in his edgy fingers to which I groaned in pain.

"Oh, don't even try, Fleshling." he snarled as he walked down the alley, "You've made quite a name of yourself since your encounter with Starscream."

My mouth fell agape. Memories surfaced at the mention of that name, which had been engraved in my mind, but buried until it was forgotten. In a flash, I remembered his dreaded name. Starscream, the mechanical, winged beast who threatened my life and whose left eye I unintentionally blinded.

"I-It was an accident!" I stammered, moaning as his fingers ached my limbs, "I never meant to blind him! I just threw my phone, I didn't even aim for his eye!"

He had no trouble squeezing the truth out of me, because I didn't know what kind of pain I would be submitted to if I lied. A sick laughter ensued, twisted by his disturbing gnarl.

"Oh, that is rich. This is even more humiliating than I thought! It doesn't surprise me that he wants you alive."

I stared at him with bewildered, wide eyes. "Wha-? What do you mean?"

"He has been telling us soldiers that if we ever saw you on the battlefield, we'd have to bring you to him, alive and unspoilt."

"Why?"

He gave a piercing glare, displaying his irritation. "You'll find out for yourself, Fleshling. Until then, shut it. You have no idea how much I HATE chatterboxes. If I weren't following Starscream's orders, I'd already have your innards popping out of your mouth with one single squeeze."

I believed his every word as I writhed in agony, grunting and groaning as he scrambled me in his grip. My ribs were forcefully squeezed inwards, ready to snap at any moment. I panicked and cried, eyes stinging, and fell into a pant as my lungs were constricted by the lack of space.

"You're weak and pathetic, Fleshling." I heard him grumble, "All the more reason why he will enjoy 'playing' with you-"

A blast rang, and the robot monster roared, stumbling backwards and dropping me at once. My scream mingled with the tearing of more shots, and when I thought I was going to hit ground, to my utter surprise, I landed in the arms of Mikey.

"Jeez, you're heavy." he grunted, "Lay off on any dessert for a while, will ya?"

I barely had time to express my sense of relief when he set me down and began pulling me into one direction, both of us running away from the robot who himself was suffering from bullet wounds.

"Ugh... You Pit-Spawns! Come back here!"

I really believed the alien robot would come after us, but another blast resounded. Up ahead was the one I had been expecting to meet in the alley.

The Autobot police car in robot-form was clutching onto a fuming gun, aiming at the foe behind us. "Michelangelo! Get Rachel and yourself out of here! Call up Ratchet and he'll tell you where he'll open up the ground bridge!"

"Got it!" Mike shouted, pulling me harder. As we passed up the robot, he looked back. "Be careful, Prowl."

Nothing more was said as we both ran for our lives again, leaving the one called Prowl behind. While we were on the run, Mikey pulled out an odd device that looked like a communicator, and he held it to his ear. "Ratchet? Come in! Mike here! Yeah, the whole city's under attack! The 'Cons are everywhere!"

Gunshots filled the air once more, this time accompanied by the powerful revs of engines. We turned our heads to see purple vehicles racing towards us. "Ratchet, they're on our tail!" Mike shouted in the speaker, panting as he then listened to the other line. "Where? Okay! We're heading there right now!"

He pulled the device away from his ear and caught my puzzled stare. "That was one of the good guys. See that street down there? We gotta take a left and a right, and then meet up the rest of the gang in an alley. You can bet that once we reach them, we'll be safe!"

"Are you sure? Last time I checked, the whole city was a battle zone! How can we be safe from any of those monsters, especially those chasing after us right now?"

"You're gonna have to trust me, Rach'! Come on!"

Mere seconds later, I witnessed other vehicles emerging from the left corner of the street. I had slowed down, nearly halting, but Mike's firm grip said to do otherwise. I focused on those vehicles and only then did I recognize the yellow muscle-car and the blue motorcycle from the day I met the Autobots. They sped past us, transforming into robots as they leaped into the air.

I sensed Mike's exhilaration as he put up a large grin on his face. I couldn't believe this guy. How could he smile when we're chased by blood-thirsty robots in wrecked city? After contemplating, I understood that he was confident enough that we'd make it. It was the only reason that could explain his hyped self. I didn't allow myself to smile, but I believed his intuition.

We were going to get out of this mess unharmed. We were going to live.

We were about to turn left at the end of the street when we heard gunshots zipping past us.

"ARGH!"

In the middle of our run, Mikey suddenly collapsed, dragging me down with him. I hit the floor hard, skidding across the concrete ground, my right cheek scraping against it. My limbs trembling but uninjured, I pushed myself off the ground and held my now bleeding cheek. With much confusion invading my thoughts, my eyes wandered the area until recognized the silhouette of Mike's body a feet or two beside me. I held my breath in alarm. Mikey wheezed and moaned in pain, flinching as he clutched onto his leg.

Christ. He had been hit.

"Mikey!" I shouted, kneeling beside him as I inspected his wounds. The bullet had perforated his leg , blood oozing from the torn flesh. My mind raced, filling with dreaded worries for his health as I tried to comfort him in his moments of agony.

"It's- It's going to be all right, Mikey. Just a bullet-wound. You'll be fine!"

"Y-Yeah?" he wheezed, "Tell me that when I got my wound treated! Ugh..."

He moved his leg as he tried to get up, but that attempt resulted in an agonized outcry, nearly bringing me to burst into tears. I watched him crumble, overwhelmed by his ache. I had no idea how to help him without hurting him. I didn't know how to treat those wounds. He needed help.

The best option I had was to carry him by the shoulder and drag him to the meeting point, away from the battlefield that had taken over the city and claimed already hundreds of lives. We would be slow, but at least we would be safe.

However, as I considered that option, my heart stopped as I heard a loud rumble. I tilted my head towards the route we needed to take, and gaped at my bête noire which had manifested itself a couple of yards before me. He growled and mumbled, his single eye searching the area.

Our eyes met and we recognized each other in a daunting instant.

Starscream.

"You!"

The intense, flaring glare of his crimson eye were proof that the vengeance he harbored was going to be the end of me. I jumped to my feet, staggering at the tremors caused by his thunderous pace. Unbalanced, I turned around and ran.

I was terrified, convinced that if he caught me, I would never see the light of day. Gasping, panting, I kicked those legs, hoping to flee whatever torture I would be subjected to.

I swerved into an alley, anything to get away from the open and to prevent myself from being an easy target. I screamed as an explosion from behind shot debris all over the place, Starscream's arm piercing through the cloud of dust as he tried to claw his way through. He glowered and bawled, vehement hatred present in his voice. "COME BACK HERE!"

I halted in my steps when I looked ahead of me. At the other end of the alley, out on the streets, another group of robots were brawling, their guns discharging red beams at whoever they were attacking. I couldn't go on nor could I go back. I was trapped.

Yet to my luck, there were the fire stairs. Without any second thought, I climbed the ladder and broke a window in order to get into the apartment. I hissed and looked down at my hand. It stung sorely, bleeding as shards pricked at my flesh. I couldn't linger too long on that small dilemma as I felt the quake of the approaching robot, so I dashed out of the room as fast as I could. The wall behind me had been blown apart by the rampaging robot monster, his angry growl pushing me to run for my life. I burst out of the apartment door, having no choice but to go upstairs as explosions resonated from downstairs. I was out of breath and exhausted, but arduously kept on climbing up the stairs until I rammed the door of the roof open.

When I got my bearings, catching my breath at the same time, I was dominated by trepidation. Barely able to walk, I went for the edge of the roof and, in frightful disbelief, realized that I was really trapped this time. The houses were too far apart from each other. I couldn't make the jump.

"What's the matter, 'Rachel'? Run out of rooftops?"

Still shaking, I pivoted hesitantly at the cruel, throaty laughter, before shock and horror overwhelmed me as I crumbled to the ground. And with that came my scream of terror.

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