One In A Billion | Transformers Prime [1]

𝟎𝟎𝟏𝟓

My world swirled from darkness to a harsh, dimly lit room. My eyes fluttered open, as consciousness returned. My pupils adjust to the eerie, bluish glow of Cybertronian technology. Terror surged through me as I realized I was no longer in control. I tried to move, but my limbs felt heavy, and a searing pain mirrored through my skull.

I attempted to sit up, but the metallic clink of chains halted my efforts. My heart pounded in my chest as I realized my wrists and ankles were restrained, and I was lying on a cold, metallic gurney, my body immobilized. I thrashed against my restraints, instincts taking over.

Before me stood a nightmarish trio: Megatron, Bitstream, and the calculating scientist they called Shockwave. 

"Con scum!" I yelled, battering in my chains. "Let me go!"

My distraught eyes skipped around the room, searching for an exit, but the only things in sight were the windowless, metallic walls and the Con scum I wanted so badly to beat up and blast to dust.

My gaze darted to my left, where an array of intimidating surgical tools lay neatly arranged on a large, Cybertronian table. I felt like I was going into cardiac arrest as I realized the Cons' sinister implications. Dread washed over me as I considered the cruel experiments they might have in mind. Suddenly, my breaths came in shallow, panicked gasps as my eyes flicked to my right, where a collection of grotesque torture devices awaited me. I shuddered at the sight, the memories of a painful past resurfacing.

The laboratory was sterile and cold, bathed in the harsh, fluorescent light that made every drop of blood seem darker, every scream sharper. I lay strapped to a metal table, my small frame trembling with fear. I struggled against my restraints, my tiny wrists chafing as I screamed in agony. Around me, a cacophony of metal clinking and hushed whispers filled the air, as if the lab itself were a living, breathing nightmare.

A man in his 50s, his eyes cold and impassive, loomed over me. He wore the uniform of the Soviet regime, a symbol of my captors. He saw not a child, but a weapon in the making. "You will make a fine soldier, little one," his voice dripped with sadistic satisfaction as he reached out to caress my tear-stained face.

"No, please," my younger self begged, my voice trembling with terror. "I'll do anything. Please, just let me go," 

The Soviet man chuckled darkly, his fingers tracing a path down my cheek. "Anything, you say?" he mused, his eyes gleaming with malignancy.

My memories were vivid, the pain as raw as it had been back then. I could hear the echoes of my own screams, feel the wetness of my tears on my cheeks. My eyes darted around the room, taking in the horrifying scene. Bloody tools lay scattered on metal trays, and my clothes were soaked in a mixture of blood and acrid chemicals.

Beside the man, another figure emerged from the shadows. This man was younger, his face marred by scars and his expression unyielding. He watched the scene with detached interest, like a scientist observing an experiment. "Don't worry," he hissed, his voice like venom. "The pain gets worse the more you cry."

In his hand, he held a needle filled with serum; its contents a dark, foreboding purple. It glistened malevolently in the unforgiving light. My childhood self whimpered and struggled against my restraints, my terror mounting as the needle drew nearer.

"No, no, please!" I cried, my voice breaking as the needle descended toward my veins. The scarred man's sadistic smile widened as he plunged the needle into my delicate flesh. My agonized blood-curdling screams reverberated through the lab, a symphony of suffering that haunted me even now.

"NOOOO!"

Back in the windowless room, my thrashing became more erratic, fueled by a visceral terror that transcended my teenage years. I gasped for air,  trying to shake off the horrifying memories that threatened to consume me as I met eyes with the malevolent gazes of my captors—Megatron, Bitstream, and Shockwave—and I understood that my past had resurfaced with a vengeance.