Chapter Forty Seven
24th December
1000hrs
He had no idea that the sun was halfway across the morning sky, nearing the highest point it would rest. He had no idea of any concept of time or designation, either in the human expression or his own. All he knew was the darkness. The quiet was occasionally interrupted by a scream or a howl or a laugh or something equally unsettling, but he was starting to get used to it, if only from need. The soft muck sludged under his boots and he was soon at another junction in the shafts.
The pangs of discomfort came against his struts when he stood still for too long and so he turned to the left, if only due to the fact the breeze coming from that direction didn't stink like rotten organic matter. Walking through such a maze gave him time plenty to think over his life, its meanings, his place in it, and his relationship with his brother, his twin.
Events of the last few weeks had been unreal, they had been insane, could he go back to the Autobots, could they? Would they be welcomed back? Rodimus could be cool enough, but the likes of Magnus and Kup when he got going? Okay, so in reality their recent actions weren't that bad, they'd done enough damage to human structures before that their diplomats and politicians were, as the human expression was, "ripped the crotch right out of their undies", of course, the grammar didn't seem right, and he didn't know what undies were or how their crotch would be torn from it. Frankly, he didn't want to know. Optimus had always just made them go repair the damage, which was policy, especially if Decepticon involvement had been the cause, and after a stay in the brig, Prowl would haul their afts down to the construction site and under the guidance, or rather, control of that pedantic whiner Grapple they'd do the most menial of tasks. But yeah, that was under Optimus, and even Prowl was easier on the servos then Magnus, and then there was the matter of kidnapping a human and destroying her home. That probably wouldn't go down well. It was one thing to "accidently" fall over into a human building, or step on an empty bus or spill lubricant all over a botanical garden, but to intentionally cause such destruction, ah… haha, it didn't settle well with the brass. Oh, and of course, there was the matter of kidnapping the scientist and assaulting the aerial commander, an officer, and then kidnapping him.
It all seemed to be part of some great big cosmic joke.
Vorns past he'd heard his brother utter the same frustrated comment when he'd approached his yellow twin to ask if the war was right for them, if there was a place in it for them.
Their know back story was correct; they had been crafted with the sole intent of being warriors. They were of the generation of mechs who rolled off the construction line into this mess of a civil war. They had no choice in the matter really. They could not judge their actions or the need for their actions based on the pre-war memory, because to them, they had no such memory. They were told what to believe, what to remember, those memories were second hand. It allowed no lee-way for self development, for the ability to decide for oneself. The humans had a concept, the right to choose, he wasn't sure what the hell they were on about, but it sure was controversial, they were always arguing about it, politicians were always saying they supported it or saying they thought it was above their pay grade or some such phrase that got the fleshy mob in an uproar. He had no right to choose. Sure, he'd never be a Decepticon, but he would have appreciated the right to choose NOT to be an Autobot. His brother didn't mind either way, Sunstreaker enjoyed the battle, the fight, the damage he could dish out with that beautiful frame of his, and for moments, when the lust for energon took him, he forgot about that vanity and tore into who ever was in front bearing that purple face distorted. After, he'd complain about nicks to his paint job and dents to his plating. Sideswipe wanted out. Sunstreaker knew this. But they were both at a stale mate. Both couldn't separate, they'd both have to be doing the same thing, Sideswipe would never feel happy if Sunstreaker was out on the battlefield without him, and Sunstreaker knew he would not be able to concentrate if Sides was not next to him. It was a nuisance. Check. As the humans would say in that silly game they passed time with. Sideswipe had given up nagging his brother about it, and Sunstreaker had given up annoying his brother over his "desire" to leave.
Of course, with recent events, Side's mind had come back to this issue. Life was obviously short, but there was obviously a life after this one, and could Sideswipe, in good conscience, accept his actions as worthy of a good afterlife? They were questions he didn't want to ask and questions he knew he didn't want answers to. But maybe these horrors would be jolt enough for them both.
Thoughts swirled within his CPU over all of the tenants of his life and then they were interrupted by a scuttling sound.
He paused.
He strained his audios to hear.
It was a different sound to what he had heard so far down here.
It didn't match the soft mud that he walked through.
It didn't match the footsteps another mech or even an organic could make in such an environment.
It didn't match any of the noises he'd been subjected to down in this hole.
There it was again.
It had an odd kind of shuffle to it. It was disjointed in pacing and had no apparent pattern to it. It was just a quick, loud, messy scuttle.
Something struck him on the head.
By no stretch of the imagination was it aggressive.
Again.
He put his hand up on his head and pick from his cranium a small pebble. He held it in his hand and rolled the small stone between his fingers.
It was just a few pieces of the rocky ceiling falling from their place. He hoped like the Pit it wasn't an indication of a cave in.
Deciding it was nothing to concern his fuel pump about, he continued on his way.
He'd only taken a few more steps when the scuffle sound happened again and a few more fragments fell upon him, bouncing from his metal helmet, the fine dust rubbing its way into the grooves on his armour.
"Damn it all!"
He grumbled.
It sounded like something was rubbing against the roof, perhaps an organic, like a bat, those things lived in caves and would crawl along the natural protrusions. He turned and looked upwards, what he saw would be yet another image that would haunt his CPU for the rest of his cycle.
"primus".
He whispered as he stared up at the thing on the rocks.
It had been human once.
Its body was that of a pre-pubescent, or a child.
It was small and slender, short in stature.
From around its neck hung a necklace of small stones and animal skulls, perhaps rodents?
Its skinny arms stretched out in a distance that was not natural for its size, the odd bulges on each shoulders told why, the arms were dislocated allowing a few extra centimetres.
Its fingers were filthy, caked in dirt and a dried substance he was guessing was blood, animal or human he didn't know nor did he want to. Those fingers dug themselves deeply in to the ceiling he clung from.
He wore no clothing and seemed unconcerned about this fact.
Its head had once been severed from its form.
However, it was now rejoined by a stick. It was dug deep into the stump where it was rend from; the dark pulpy muck was dried to his front and caked on that necklace.
But that wasn't what creeped him out about the human… whatever.
It had no eyes.
Its jaw dropped over to hiss at him, its lips drew upwards, and teeth, worn, shattered, browned were bared.
"Um… that's nice… ah… I'm… ah… coming mummy!!"
Sideswipe turned and forgetting the belligerent distrust of the mud and its constant pull on his form, he ran, aware of the scuttling sound continuing from behind him.
He couldn't remember the last time he was this scared, running through an abandoned mine that had once been a Decepticon base of operation, encased in darkness, listening to his intake vents pulling in air to try and cool his heating systems, the scuttling of that thing behind him, chasing him, scurrying its polluted form along the ceiling just above his head, alone… bar for that thing, and that was not the company he wanted. He came to a sudden halt when he slammed into a hard rock wall. Loosing his balance he fell backwards, strangely, landing very hard in that soft muck.
A sticky slap indicated the creature had landed on top of him.
He swatted at it as it moved along his form, over his chest, up towards his face.
"GET OFF ME!!"
He screamed as he punched his fists against his body.
It was on his face now, it stench wafting into his olfactory senses, some of its dripping fluids and muck reaching into his mouth and violating his flavour senses. Then its grubby little hands, with its broken, muck caked fingers began clawing at his optics.
And then his optics were shattered.
He screamed like he had never screamed before, still fighting to get it off, but it kept moving itself to avoid his desperate grasps.
He got lucky, or Primus blest him.
Sideswipe made contact with the creature, blind, he clasped his hand firmly around it and spun, crushing it as he did, he hurled it along the tunnel he had just run through. His audios alerted him to the fact it had collided with something and then flopped into the sludge. There was no scuttling after that. But he didn't trust that.
Truly blind, he clambered up quickly, wanting to get away as quickly as possible, the things he had witnessed lately, down here especially, they were easily capable of going in for round two, and the red twin didn't want to be its opponent.
The Autobot ran along a passage he remembered branched off fifty metres before the dead end, he hadn't had time to twist down it while being pursued, but given it happened before where that thing had landed, he thought it was his best bet. Even though he had been in the pitch before, knowing his optics no longer functioned unsettled him a lot worse. He pushed himself, forcing whatever energon reserves he had to do its job and fuel his escape. Wondering how serious his injuries were that so many systems were offline, only his primary functions were still clicking over. He wanted to rest, but he knew he didn't have the luxury of time.
The scuttling sounds resumed.
"LEAVE ME A LONE!"
He roared.
"PLEASE!!!"
The shuffling intensified.
Sideswipe was suddenly aware he'd lost his balance.
The twin realised he was unable to correct.
He was tumbling.
Down and down and down.
There was a loud crash.
He was pushed into unconsciousness, the last thing he had awareness of before he succumbed, was the scurrying.