Title: Nyctophobia
Continuity: G1 SG
Rating: PG-13
Character(s): Vortex, Swindle, Brawl, Onslaught, Blast Off
Word Count: 2260
Warnings: char death, possible disturbing mental images
Summary: Definition: Nyctophobia: A fear of the dark and that which it contains.
Notes: Written for
competition_fun Halloween challenge. (Words in bold are challenge words)
Disclaimer: Transformers and all related stuff still doesn't belong to me :(
“Primus Brawl, make some noise would you.”
“Sorry.” The light blue tank ducked his helm slightly as he shifted the gate into the complex so we could enter. For such a big mech he could move surprisingly quietly.
“You found a way in?” Onslaught asked as he jogged around the corner.
“Yep, so, we’re to go in and see if it’s fully abandoned?” I asked as I edged around the gatepost and into the empty courtyard.
Onslaught nodded as he ducked around the gate that Brawl was still politely holding open. “Come on, the quicker we get it all mapped out, the quicker we can get back to our base.”
He strode up to the main door, the power grid flaring back into life as he placed his hand against the pad.
I felt my armour clamp in tight to my protoform in trepidation as I stared into the corridor, the lights flickering wildly.
“Looks nice and encouraging.” Brawl said blandly as he followed Onslaught into the base proper.
:Onslaught, Swindle here, me and Blast are in through a back entrance, you want us to start our sweep here and meet up with you?:
:Yes, we’ll split up and work our way to you. Shouldn’t take too long.: Onslaught replied as we came to a cross-section.
“I claim dibs on left.” Brawl said as he ducked down that corridor. I snorted slightly as I shrugged; waiting till Onslaught chose to go straight ahead.
Wonderful, I get the dark path, I flicked my hazard lights on, letting the soft green and red glow fill the area.
So, sweep the base, see if it’s fit for use, then get back to the Nemesis. Not that bad an assignment really, just, long and boring. Better than Motormaster’s team at least, they got sent out to do a deep space survey.
:Hey guys, I think there’s something in the base.: Blast Off said through the comm. at the same time a tendril of fear came through the gestalt bond.
:It’s probably just the lighting playing tricks on you.: I replied, psychologist coding coming to the forefront as I peered into a half collapsed room, the ceiling creating a walkway up to the next level.
:I don’t think it is ‘Tex, I feel like I’m being watched.:
:By what? Glitchmice?: Onslaught asked with a chuckle.
:No. Bigger.: Blast Off switched his comm. unit over to external transmissions. :Just listen.:
:Not hearing anything but your systems.: Brawl said, saying exactly what I was thinking. There was nothing that I couldn’t hear in my own corridor; the faint hum of hydraulics and the occasional crunch of something underfoot.
:Slag!: The expletive was accompanied by a sharp burst of panic as Blast off tore off down a corridor, footfalls clanging against the ground, blocking out any other sounds.
:I swear it moved.: He said when he finally stopped, leaving silence across the comm. except for his frantic venting, his emotions clearly transmitting across our bond in a whirl of fear/panic/distress.
:Hold your position Blast, I’m heading back to you.: Swindle said as Blast Off finally started to calm down from his headlong rush deeper into the base.
:Thanks. Fast as you can.: He clicked his comm. back to it’s usual setting, leaving the corridor I was standing in seeming distinctly quieter and more foreboding in the wake of the recent noise that had been transmitted.
:Blast? You said ‘it’ moved. What the frag is ‘it’?:
If I had been in the same place as Brawl I would have clocked him round the helm as another wave of panic came through before it was muted, Blast Off finally having the presence of mind to get his firewalls back in place and stop broadcasting his emotions.
:I don’t know, it was like a shadow, I didn’t get a good look at it.:
:Almost with you Blast. Just got to drop a couple of levels.:
:Blast?:
:Blast Off?:
Now Swindle was panicking as I felt him prod along the gestalt bond, trying to ascertain what was going on. Giving in to the urge I sent my own status ping across the gestalt link, only three of my brothers returning the automated data to show they were online.
Blast Off could have just slipped and knocked himself offline, he was still clearly here in the bond, if he had been extinguished we would have known.
:No. No. No.: Swindle’s scream tore across the commline, his fear making Blast Off’s earlier outburst seem like mild alarm.
:Swindle! Report.: Onslaughts no nonsense tone brought Swindle back from the edge of the hysteria he was currently balancing on, allowing me to regain my footing that I hadn’t even realised I had lost when the mental shriek had ricocheted around my processor.
:He... I... He was right. There’s someone here.:
:Blast Off?:
Swindle didn’t answer for a long moment before coming back onto the line, voice much quieter than normal. :I don’t think he’ll make it boss. There’s too much energon, I can’t...: He trailed off into static with a whine.
I felt a whimper of my own escape as Blast Off’s presence in our bond dimmed. How many times had I comforted mechs who had been left bereft of ember-mates? Told them it would be alright? I hadn’t known, had never truly understood when they refused to believe me, when they drifted into recharge and never powered up again. I latched onto the rest of my team, feeling them clinging to my presence as we sought to fill the void that had appeared in our link.
I had to find them.
We had to get out of here.
Whoever took Blast Off from us is still out there... and Swindle is in the same area.
I wasn’t the only one to have that thought as Onslaught ordered Swindle to move, to try and meet up with Brawl who was closest to his position.
Which by my calculations also left me farthest out. I cycled a deep vent as I peeked around the next corridor, sensors scanning its entire length before I slid my chassis around, hugging the wall as I moved along.
:Swindle?: It wasn’t like the keen business-mech to loose his cool, the frustration he was leaking was... unnerving.
:Just a locked and jammed door, I’ll have to go round.:
:Right. Try not to take too long.: Brawl added. :And be careful.:
:Very careful.: Swindle assured the tank.
An uneasy silence fell across our gestalt link and comm.’s as we concentrated on trying to meet up without alerting whoever or whatever was in the building with us of our locations.
If it wasn’t for the map I had been creating as I moved (and the sheer impossibility) I would have sworn that the walls were shifting to change the layout of the base. Twice now I had turned a corner too early.
I shook my helm slightly, what kind of psychologist gets afraid of the dark?
A yelp, cut off before it had barely begun brought my attention back to identify who was in trouble.
:Brawl?: Onslaught was quicker as his worried voice cut through the query I had been about to make.
:I’m here.: The tank sounded shaky when he finally answered. : Floor collapsed underneath me, think I dropped about three floors, I’m going to have to work my way back up.:
:Slag, you gave me a scare. Thought we’d lost you then for a moment.:
:You sure you’re alright Brawl?: Something didn’t feel right.
:Just dings and scratches.: I frowned. I’d always been the most sensitive to the gestalt bond and something was pressing at the edge of my processor. Something that I both recognised and didn’t.
Perhaps it was just loosing Blast Off so suddenly, the link was off kilter, a void where there should be presence.
No.
Now was not the time to mourn.
Later. When we’re out and well away from here.
I winced as I stepped around piles of debris, metal clattering as I dislodged things from piles to bounce across the floor. So much for silence.
I pinged locations again, the returned distances letting me compute to my relief that Brawl and Onslaught were getting nearer to each other. And I was practically on top of Swindle.
No, not on top, according to his return data burst I had just passed by him.
“Swindle?” My query was cautious as I crept back up the corridor to his location.
I hadn’t been feeling things earlier, although the sensation hadn’t been from Brawn as I had assumed, his fall had clouded my judgement.
I flash of colour amongst the dulled and rusted scrap caught my optics.
I reached out a shaking hand to the frame dropped amongst the debris, feeling the warmth of armour and the pulse of his ember; he hadn’t been extinguished yet.
Shifting so that I could keep as much of the corridor in view as I could I slid one of my datacables out, I needed to plug in and see if I could bring him back online. He might even have seen who had attacked him.
Seen who or what we are up against.
I pulled out of his processor, venting heavily, in all my time I had never seen such thorough damage.
I had known that he had been hacked, the strange sense of otherness in the link that I could now in hindsight place, but not this.
They had ripped his processor apart, data stream by data stream.
Even in cases with less extensive damage there was often only one recourse; a full reformat, in essence a completely new mech.
His chassis might still be here, and his presence in the link, but Swindle was as good as gone.
Standing back up I froze as another treacherous thought crossed my processor: I found him. Does that make me next?
I cycled air, willing such thoughts from my processor as I opened my commlink to the others back up to tell them of Swindle’s condition. None of us would be next.
We just had to keep moving...
:Brawl? Onslaught?: I freeze as I listen for an answer, for any indication that they are still online.
:He should be here. He was right here.: Onslaught replies. :But I can’t find him.:
:Brawl?:
:We were almost on top of each other, and then he just vanished. I can’t find him and he’s not answering.:
Wasn’t taking two of our brothers enough?
:Slag!:
:Onslaught, talk to me.: I demanded when he fell silent after his outburst, only his emotions letting me know he hadn’t also been taken.
:Sadistic monster.: Disgust was rolling through our bond, crashing against the terror and despair that we were both feeling. :His laser core has been forced open his and his ember crushed.:
If I had anything left in my tanks I would have lost it, but I had nothing left, dry heaves shaking my chassis. :I think I’m pretty close to you. We’ll be safe together:
I felt Onslaught’s agreement as he turned to make his way towards me, both of us creeping along, sensors attuned to the smallest of noises.
Even with my fans manually over-ridden every step seemed excessively loud, echoing, giving away my position. I stumbled, reaching out a hand for the wall as a wave of pain slammed into me, a tortured scream resounding down the corridor, echoing back and forth.
I reached the corner, my armour plates clattering together as I peered around it. I tried to speak, only to get a buzz of static as my processor refused to accept what it was seeing.
“Tex.” Onslaught said with a rattling intake of atmosphere as his systems tried to work with half of them torn out. “Run.”
I shook my helm.
Disbelief?
Denial?
I don’t know.
He was fading.
My last bond evaporating like it was never there.
My last link to sanity, leaving me alone.
So very alone.
No.
Not alone.
Back pressed to the wall I let my optics roam over every crevice in the walls.
“Go on ‘Tex. Run.” I whimper as the mocking whisper carries down the corridor, its owner still unknown.
I stumbled away, the scornful voice following me. “Run, Decepticon.”
Run where?
I laughed as I came to a stop, the sort of laughter of a mech who knows they have nothing left to loose, as I slid to my knees.
The type of laughter that would have had me committing any other mech to a padded cell.
“It's too late now.” My voice sounded ragged to my own audios, glitching with static as I spoke. “I have no reason to run.”
A dark frame seemed to materialise out of the shadows, the Autobot, for the other mech was clearly an Autobot, his leering purple brand a mere confirmation of that fact, grinned.
There was nothing sane in his face as he twirled a blade between his fingers, the weapon flashing scarlet as it reflected the light from his optics.
“It’s never too late, Decepticon.” The smirk was sadistic in its entirety as the Autobot ran the blade across my cheek, energon welling beneath it to drip across my plating as the mech leant down, voice filled with a promise of pain. “You should have run.”
Perhaps I should. But the darkness has stopped being terrifying, holding secrets and shapes I cannot see.
I tilt my helm up to regard the Autobot, a soft smile settling over my face.
Now the darkness is something I will eagerly embrace.