Disclaimer: all publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respected owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author (me). No money is being made from this work and no copyright infringement is intended.
AN: Sorry to those who favoured this story before but I felt it wasn't working the way I wanted it to so I changed it. Flames will be used to cook my meals as this is my story and as the author I have the right to change it as I see fit. Those who don't like this, it is your own problem not mine.
Standing in the middle of a crumbling city; buildings destroyed, roads torn up and the rubble scattered everywhere.
Bodies littered the streets, all were military and faceless; shouts and cries muffled from the shock. Civilians running in the desolate streets, screaming in mass hysteria as they tried to escape from the carnage that surrounded them. Unfortunate souls crushed from the fallen debris and another force none have ever seen.
A towering behemoth, eyes like amber flames and body craved from metal, glared downward – mechanical optics bearing such emotion as any organic eye can muster: Anger, blood-thirst, lust, power and a darkness so deep, it reached out to any unsuspecting victim and dragged them into a dark pit where no light could ever reach.
Serrated claws loomed overhead, reaching down to pluck it's victim from the crumbling earth. Fear spiked and a need to run consumed but no movement took place, rooted to the ground with no means to escape.
As the bladed prison closed around, a deep cackle racked the heated air, a bellow of triumph signalling his victory:
"THE ALL SPARK…IS MINE!"
Shooting up from the horrid dream, racked breath and sweat dripped from her shaking form; the nightmares…always nightmares; all about the same thing yet each different in its own right. How long has she been burdened with such horrors she'll never know.
Sighing, so used to these dreams that she no longer shed angry or distressed tears. All she could do was strip her bed of the damp sheets and strip her soaked pyjamas for washing and move on.
Move on. She had been doing that lot lately. Simply trying to forget what had occurred in the past and hope for a better future. Looking at her bedside clock, the flashing green lights indicated it was 3 in the morning, a normal occurrence in her estrange life; climbing out of her warm bed and collected her drenched sheets and clothes, she dumped them over the railing into an awaiting basket and moved into her en suite.
Cold water blasted from the faucet didn't phase her, clearing the sweat from her skin and cooled her heated body. Staring blankly at the crisp white tiles, her mind repeated the horrific scenes she had just witnessed within her own mind.
As welcoming as the cool water was, she stepped out and dried the remaining water from her body. Moving from her bathroom into her closet, she pulled out a simple mini-tee, slim jeans and a pair of black steel cap boots. Grabbing her laptop, bag and keys, she moved to her kitchen to prepare her breakfast.
Glancing at the kitchen clock, it read 4.30. She had a good hour before she had to start work. Moving about her kitchen in no real rush, she pulled out some fresh bread and started a fresh brew of coffee. She pulled out her laptop and pulled up the local newspaper online and read the news as she had her breakfast.
A quick clean up later she made her way out. Locking the door behind her, she made her way to work. It wasn't a long walk to get there; walking was one of her favourite pass times in her otherwise troubled life. 20 minutes passed and she arrives at a local mechanic and scrap yard. Sure, it was a strange job to have for an 18-year-old female high school graduate but she wasn't your average high school grad. She actually liked mechanics and, with enough money and luck, she might be able to find a good working car.
Being the first one there, she unlocked the gates and made her way in. Walking into the main office after collecting some overalls from her designated locker in the garage, she begins the morning routine; check any messages from the day before, any orders or deliveries to expect today and other reports and such. Being the first one there, she easily finished half the reports before the loud roar of a power engine pulled her from her work.
It wasn't something the young Autobot scout wanted to wake up to – being towed by a hated Decepticon, unable to transform or even move. After evading some government group in the deserts of Nevada, the Decepticon Barricade jumped him with his partner Frenzy, leaving him worse for wear. No doubt the 'Con duo thought it would be amusing for him to meet his end at the hands of the organic race he swore to protect.
Large piles of old car shells and parts were scattered all around him, reminding him to the scorched battlefields and mass graves that now claimed Cybertron. He shuddered at those memories as his immobile form was being towed. His senses picked up a large crushing machine that would crush old car shells when placed inside in compressed cubes. His pained wails and pleading warbles from his damaged vocal processor fell on deaf ears as no one could hear him or he was simply ignored by his captors.
As Barricade came to a stop before the yards main office, Bumblebee watched as the despicable con activated his holo-form; mocking a human law enforcer, and approached a young human female as she emerged from the main office,
"Can I help you officer?" she asked,
"Yes Miss?" he questioned, keeping up the guise,
"Amy, Amy-leigh Mackenzie," she replied, looking past the officer she noticed another officer in the front passenger seat. Frenzy had activated his holo-form for the sharade but the moment he heard her name, he typed feverishly at the console situated in the police cruiser,
"Well Ms. Mackenzie, I along with my partner have come to get this pile of scrap dealt with," he noticed that she didn't seem intimidated; normally when dealing with these fleshbags they seemed fearful and cooperative but she simply stood there, not one flicker of fear crossed her pale aqua eyes.
"Okay, I'll need you to sign a few things before you go," she replied, moving back to the office to collect them, "You can move the car just over there if you want," she directed him to a large pile of car shells near the crusher. He nodded and moved back to his true form, ignoring Frenzy's skittish typing and moved to put his victim by the pile.
Amy noticed there was something off about this cop but what caught her more with the car he was towing in; it was a '76 yellow chevy camero with 2 black racing stripes across the vehicle. Despite the look of the camero, there was something in the back of her mind pulling at her, she couldn't tell what but as she turned to leave, she saw…something. Before her was the silhouette of an age-old memory. It was staring at the camero as the cop disconnected it from his car. It turned back to her was a grim expression.
"Help…him…" the ghostly voice begged before it disappeared. Shocked and somewhat unnerved by this spectre, she shook the feeling and moved back to the cop. He signed for everything and filled out the paperwork and made his way out.
"A drop off and my first psychotic episode of the day," she sighed, looking to the camero with thoughtful eyes, "this one is going to be a doosey," moving out of the office, she moved to the camero, noting every ding, dent and damaged plating she could find. The spectre was usually right about this sort of thing so, instead of scheduling it for scrap she managed to push the camero into the garage.
Bumblebee couldn't think why this female had moved him into the property's garage when Barricade had organised him for scrap. As she moved him, he noticed the distant look in her eyes before she moved to leave. Through out the day, she would come in and out repairing cars, working on his frame by knocking out dents and buffing up all his scratches.
When she popped Bumblebee's hood, a look of shock crossed her face, "Wow, sweet headers…and a high-rise double-pump carburettor? Why that cop wanted to scrap you definitely had something wrong with him," she whispered, checking out his engine, "Getting rid of a handsome machine like you should be a crime," Bumblebee couldn't help but preen with pride from her compliment despite his current situation.
She was delicate and meticulous in her work– repairing what was damaged in his battle with Barricade and Frenzy, since the little mech screwed up a lot of his internal mechanics; Amy was able to easily put everything back in place. The old twinge of pain registered when she had to fix certain components but didn't dare to remove them since her expertise only went so far.
He watched her when she began to speak with the owner of the garage, her boss, and was able to convince him to give her the car since no one wanted it and she was the one to fix it up. Now, Bumblebee didn't appreciate being treated like some average earth vehicle but if it meant he could get out of being scrapped and continue his mission, he'd suck it up.
Coming to an agreement with her boss, Amy turned back to the garage and, once again, the same spectre appeared before her, now with a smile gracing his face before he disappeared. Bumblebee noticed how she froze, like she had seen something yet nothing was there. Her vital signs had spiked suddenly but instantly dropped back to normal as she finished off her shift; there was truly more to this girl than he truly knew.
Please Rate and Review. I'm sorry again if anyone liked the original story but it wasn't what I wanted and I did a major overhaul on it.
If you don't like the change, that's your problem. This is how I wanted it to be done.