Transformers Prime: Through Bad and Through Worse

Chapter Eighteen

Thwack!

Ratchet kept his optics squeezed shut, forcing himself not to move as the dagger hit the wall maybe a foot away from his helm, after 'Sir' had thrown it. If it had hit any closer, Ratchet probably would've screamed. The medic whimpered softly, feeling even more at risk, before opening his optics and looking at the cruel mech fearfully.

"Very good... that's one." Sir smiled, grabbing another dagger, "now, ready for the next one?"

Ratchet shook his helm desperately, his optics holding a pleading gaze. He had no words to defend him, or even beg for mercy, with the gag in his mouth. The poor medic felt utterly defenseless.

"Aww, surely you don't want to die after only one dagger was thrown," Sir teased, preparing to throw the blade. "Ready, precious Ratchet?"

Please don't throw it close... The medic silently begged, squeezing his optics shut and preparing for the loud sound of a dagger barely missing him.

Thwack!

He let out a small gasp, but didn't otherwise move; the blade had missed his shoulder by mere inches! Too close for comfort.

"Almost got you that time... better be careful." Sir laughed, taking the third dagger and aimed. "Ready?"

Ratchet kept his optics shut.

"Ah ah, I let the first two pass, but not this one." The silver mech chided. "Open up, let me see those pretty optics. You ain't cheating by keeping them closed anymore."

Scrap! Ratchet stiffened, his energon turning to ice. How was he going to avoid flinching now? Slowly, he opened his optics, giving a fearful whimper, as his gaze met that of Sir's.

"That's better..." Sir smirked, before pulling his arm back, and throwing the dagger with a heave.

The blade flew right at Ratchet's face!

The medic let out a muffled cry and pulled his helm away just in time; the dagger hit right where his left optic would've been. He whimpered in fear, before freezing, when his and Sir's gazes met. The silver mech was now holding a large sword, and approaching.

He had flinched.

Sir burst out laughing as he came near. "Oh, what was the punishment for flinching? Oh, right! I get to dismember a digit!" He chuckled, coming to stand right in front of the terrified medic.

"Mmph!" Ratchet whimpered pleadingly, struggling in the chains.

"Now now, calm yourself." Sir reached and unchained the medic's left servo.

Ratchet tried to pull his servo from his grasp, but found that he couldn't, and Sir had amazing strength, despite his age; no matter how hard Ratchet yanked, the mech's arm didn't even budge.

"Hm..." Sir said, deep in thought. "You know, cutting off one of your digits isn't enough." He smiled big. "No, I want your whole servo."

"MMMMPH!" Ratchet shrieked into the gag fearfully, desperately attempting to yank his servo from Sir's iron grip.

"Ssshhh, you'll only make it worse for yourself." Sir whispered softly, holding the medic's servo out in front of him, and raising the sword blade above his helm, ready to swing it down and sever Ratchet's servo.

Ratchet made continous pleading whimpers, watching in terror with wide optics.

"Let's see how loud you can scream with that gag in your mouth, shall we?" Sir snickered, before swinging downward with all his might.