When tales and scary stories mean more than meets the eye (SHORT chapter!)

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   “But….” The Torturer paused. “The Universe had a different plan.”

The other Decepticons, who he had been scaring the living life out of,  were huddled together in a dark lite room.

“W-w-w-what kind?”  The Farmer asks, sounding scared.

            This was way before Ivy became a Quintession, probably during the time she was at the pitch-black planet. Starscream hadn’t been aware of this small group who told tales and passed time using this tactic. There’s one Decepticon who’s recalling this event no other than The Porcupine Decepticon.

           

            “The kind that the Fallen did not like.”  The Porcupine Decepticon gazes to the firing flames melting down armor like hard waves crashing over the sand creating outlines of the disturbed area.   He feels pity for those who had been offlined way early than they should have been. By an Unlikely candidate they never considered to turn against them.

            The torturer grins.

            “Making a well known Decepticon…WRONG!” The Torturer’s gigantic head lights flickered on making a spot light on the terrified. His grin is not a foolish grin but that of a evil mastermind. “Everything he knew to be wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. Everything going on the wrong direction that he had read it to be—“

            “Who are you basing this off?” A Decepticon asked, stopping the torturer in his glorious time.

            “…Well…” He looked in the room. “I’m basing off…The Fallen.  I’ve heard about legends…about…the girl.”

            The Decepticons give him a look.

            “SO?” They said at once.

            The torturer dims his head lights.

            “You know her as well as she knows the future…Ivy will make it more…interesting.” He makes a spider like movement using his digits. “Something that we won’t expect may change what legends say. We may become historians that others will look up to. Some of us may not survive to see what becomes of her.”  He leaned his head in creating a energy ball in his palmar. “Not all powerful beings are right.”

           

            The Porpcupine Decepticon holds a reticent picture  of the entire, big hulking crew of Decepticons.

            “So, be more precise—“

            “I can’t be clear on what I say, Farmer.” The Torturer said,  “I get the fun out of you guys by doing things you wouldn’t have thought to be possible. It’s enjoyable watching you squirm in a tight space, oh how fun.”

            “A  Decepticon crawled into a cell-space and got eaten alive by some Cybertronian Jaguars.” An Engineer interrupted. “Leaving specks of dust and nothing left behind. The content grumble from the jaguar is left behind. Not a con or bot would ever know one hid in such a ludicrous space. True story.”

      The mechs gave him a strange look. 

   "..Don't remind us about that elastic Decepticon!" The Farmer pleads, "It was a horrible accident."

   The small group of twenty five Decepticons shuddered at once; there are more of them out of this group, as in four hundred or six hundred all together. Some  of them have so much personality they aren't even given much dialogue from a few complications--Either they can't speak, losing their  optic sight, or cannot hear...Or more importantly  they are really different than some are seen to be.

  "Ewwwww!" A Decepticon shuddered. "Tell us a different tale!"

           

      The Porcupine Decepticon  looks away from the melting armor, reflecting over the numerous headlight camp stories told in the dark when they thought nothing is to be feared on a dead planet.  “Hey Porcupine, do you remember the time where we did a Star Wars horror story?” Another suriviving Decepticon randomly asks the porcupine Decepticon.

            He turns his head toward the survivor.

            “I do,”  Porcupine said, shrugging his gigantic spikey shoulders.  “It’s terrible; I remember it as if it had happened last solar cycle.”

            “That could have been the greatest horror story ever told.” The survivor acknowledges, as they are turned away from the flickering flames dropping matter and scrap metal some sides of the pit.

            “Sss-s-s-s-so the version of s-ss-s-sStar Wars that no human has ever ss-s-s-seen,…” A stuttery Decepticon started, rubbing his hands together. “Is-s-s-siss horri—fofifiyng.” He nudged the shoulder of his companion. “T-t-t-t-tell t-t-them, you sludge con.”

            They give each other nicknames on their personality.

            “Telll usssssssss.” The Torturer drones on. “Or else some’cons going to tell a real life horror tale!”

            They all glared at the Decepticon who rambled about the jaguar incident.

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