We're Slightly Less Screwed

Somewhere along the line, things changed. I couldn’t tell you where though. I mean- fuck. I probably couldn’t even tell you my name in my current state. Every part of me hurt. I knew that I had to be covered in bruises, and I could feel the blood flowing freely from the wound on my head. The pain in my midsection was ridiculous. My ribs were definitely broken, possibly shattered.

“Useless fragging fleshling!”

With a thud I was hurled into a cold, dark, metal cell.

I groaned, but made no effort to move. I wasn’t lucky enough to die or even pass out. I’m never that lucky. That left me laying there on a cold metal floor with nothing to think about, but the pain and the little birds circling my head. That could not have been a good sign.

The sound of chains rattling within the cell alerted me to the fact that I wasn’t alone. I opened my eyes, which were nearly swollen shut, and glanced around. I could see nothing in the darkness. That was until a red light turned on.

As it brightened I was able to focus, eventually realizing that the light was an optic and that I was probably fucked. Really fucked.

I held my breath hoping that maybe playing dead would work. Wishful thinking.—again, I can never be that lucky. There was a screech of rage alerting me to its attack. Adrenaline surged through me, allowing my body to move without real thought. There was nowhere for me to go that I could see save for towards the door that I had been thrown through. I braced myself against the cool metal. After all the shit I’d been through, and all the shit I’d had to put up with, this is how I was gonna die. The thought of that pissed me off more than the thought of how fucked up all of my tattoos were gonna be when my cuts healed.

The enraged noises that what I’m assuming was a very pissed off bot—or maybe con—had created hadn’t ceased, but nothing had struck me.

I opened my eyes that had been squeezed shut. The dark room was illuminated with blue light that flowed from the wall to two servos. ‘The chains,’ I thought. In the light, I could make out its appearance. Dark servos were connected to dented and scratched arms that I followed up to a shoulder joint that was barely hanging there—ouch. The wires were disconnected barely holding the metal in place. From the shoulder strut I looked at its face. Only one optic was online and it showed the pain the mech in front of me was feeling. On either side of its face were two fins.

My foggy mind cleared up for a moment as realization set in. “Oh my fucking God!” I whispered in shock.

The red optic looked towards me.

"Sunstreaker, what the hell did they do to you?"