By: Landray Depth Charge

The images played over in his mind. Death, destruction, mayhem. Glowing optics shut off as his senses were flooded with the memories; overwhelming smell of mech-fluid, screams of robots in the throes of agonizing death, absolute chaos and confusion. Fire and smoke invaded his optic and olfactory sensors. Oho! How good it was!

Protoform X’s massive form watched the bustling streets below him, his emerald optics glowing with evil intention in the dark. Two weeks had passed since the destruction of Colony Omicron, and the red demon of a Maximal experiment had finished scoping out his next victim establishment. This one was smaller, much smaller, than Omicron had been. X’s hands had slaughtered ten thousand Maximal head on the colony, but this place he only estimated to be about five hundred strong. Still, Omicron had strong ties with this station. The transport records he’d gotten ahold of revealed that the guardian’s colony had a shuttle going from Omicron to here, Starbase Rugby, twice a day.

Ahh, the guardian. The thought of his friend brought a twisted smile to X’s equally twisted face. Emerald orbs glanced down at his hands. The protoform’s life had always revolved around pain - his pain - and now he almost understood why. The scientists in charge had been very, very interested in his physical pain reactions for a reason. While killing on Omicron, he had realized, among other things, that it was fun! Making others hurt reduced his own suffering and ultimately made him feel better. The only downside was that killing his fellow transformers made him want to do it again, and again, and again. He was insatiable.

But the high point of the day, the best out of every single ‘bot he’d destroyed on Omicron, the ones he relished terminating the most was Depth Charge’s family. Hohoho...he’d enjoyed that! Beaten and helpless, the guardian (as everyone else called him) had watched in horror as Protoform X ripped his child to pieces while he screamed. The words the big teal Maximal had said echoed in X’s deranged metal skull. Depth Charge had begged. Pleaded for his mate, for his infant. With a smile, X devoured them anyway, triumphantly, while the big Maximal shrieked in pained hysteria.

Protoform X had been right (as always) about Depth Charge; he had something that separated him from the rest of the Maximal population. The killer transformer had gotten word that the guardian was hot on his heels, following the plasma trail that his small Nebulan Cruiser had left. Depth Charge’s drive was finally coming out. X’d learned that the teal Maximal had not only disobeyed direct orders to stay put on Cybertron, but that those orders had come from the High Council itself, and that Depth Charge had stolen a Starhopper and thousands of credits worth of tracking equipment. How...un-Maximal-like, my friend! the future Predacon cackled out loud. Let the games begin.

He’d waited long enough. Massive clawed hands twitched as the streetlights finally dimmed, signaling the starbase’s sleeping cycles. The Maximal inhabitants had long ago begun to retire for the night. Perfect..Time to have some fun.

Silently Protoform X slipped down the side of the building, grasping a gutter beam for support. The scientists had created him well, he thought as he easily traversed the vertical wall. Strong hands, clawed feet, night-vision..it seemed there wasn’t anything he couldn’t do. Unfortunately, the technicians in charge of him hadn’t counted on him rebelling in such a way. He was Maximal programmed, after all.

How trivial they all were. The Maximals, every one of them. They thought that just because something had a Maximal program in its head it was automatically going to be good. Wrong! He’d met dirty Maximals, decent Predacons, even. The programming didn’t matter...a robot was a robot.

Where should I start? X mused to himself as he touched the ground. Straightening himself up, the protoform grinned and sauntered down the road, his massive red frame illuminated by the dimmed street lamps. Optics green as envy scanned the buildings, choosing, ideas playing in his perverted mind. "Eeny.. meeny.. miney....moe."

****

The red robot dropped the corpse, listening with sadistic glee as it hit the floor with a wet thud. Three hundred and ninety-four. Whirling, he gripped the frightened femme huddled against the wall by the throat and yanked her towards him, face to face, malachite optics staring into terror-filled yellow. His spark sensed the primal fear coursing through her and drank it up. Literally. Tearing into her chest as though the armor were made of tissue paper, X devoured the glowing life-sphere and laughed, feeling the spark shudder once it hit his stomach, then perish with a wonderful ripple that warmed his circuits.

"Seafire! NO!"

X turned with a viscous snarl and knocked the approaching male's head off with nothing more than a careless (but powerful) toss of his mech smeared fist. Protoform X twisted his face into a sick grin, the very _expression perverted by his vertical mouth and the exognaths that accompanied it. Three hundred and ninety-six.

The experimental protoform continued to stalk the halls of the factory, searching each living space and killing the occupant(s) he found inside. Corpses and dismembered bodies lay in his wake, scattered around the main hallways like broken toys strewn across a child's bedroom floor, like so much cheap trash unworthy of recycling. X watched as silver mech-fluid dripped down his arms and chest, spilled out of his grotesque mouth as he swallowed the excess. Verdant eyes glowed brightly in the dark; factory buildings one, two and three were now non-existent. His little holiday was nearly over.

Protoform X's hulking figure trudged towards the next and last assembly plant. He was too busy thinking to notice that he was leaving a trail of bloody footprints behind him. Suddenly he halted dead in his tracks, optics wide and mouth gaping as he looked blankly forwards. His optics were unfocused -- he wasn’t paying attention to what he was seeing, no, but more to what he was sensing. His exognaths, nothing more than a primitive precedent to what his future crustacean alternate form would give him, twitched. Something else was here. Close to him.

The massive transformer turned to his left and drew his tri-barrelled rocket launcher, one hand curled around the handle and trigger, the other gripping the support bar on the side. Whatever was in that alley between the factories was watching him, and... -- there! A pair of deep violet optics gazed back at him from the dark. X laughed, a deep, dark chuckle that had sent his previous victims into fits of mortal terror. His gleeful guffaw abruptly terminated as another light snicker decorated the air. An easy, oddly female laugh....

A tall, lanky femmebot sauntered out of the darkness, standing directly in front of the killer, whom, in response only glared at her out of uncertainty. It wasn't that he'd never seen a female before, no, he had killed plenty of them before. It was just that this one, this femme who was all legs and breastplate, was not afraid of him. Her mauve gaze bore directly into his, completely oblivious to the massive weapon pressing into her abdomen. Purple optics betrayed no fear.

With a snarl, X lifted his launcher to face level.

Glaring down the barrel pointing at her, the alluring female sighed and pushed the gun aside --

-- she pushed his gun ASIDE --

and planted her hands on her shapely hips. "That is unnecessary," she stated in monotone, gesturing towards the cannon. She continued when he didn't answer. "I want to kill with you."

Kill with me? Kill WITH me?! What kind of twisted freak-of-nature Maximal was this? "Why?" he asked suspiciously, lowering but not holstering his launcher.

"Because I feel like it." said the raven-colored femmebot, slowly walking a circle around the future Predacon. He stood almost two full heads above her. "Besides, it’s not like I’ve never taken another Cybertronian’s life before."

"Bwaauugh...do you even know who I am?"

"No, but that doesn't matter, does it?"

Protoform X watched her as she walked away, absolutely, completely dumbfounded. His malachite eyes spotted the small gold Predacon insignia on her shoulder-guard and followed her, if only out of curiosity. "Who...are you? You do not fear me." That last fact irritated him.

"Tainted is what they call me," the female returned nonchalantly, never breaking her stride. "Why should I fear?"

"I am a mass murderer! I kill because I enjoy it!"

"So?"

Tainted turned around and, with speed almost too quick to follow, drew a sword handle, snapped the energon blade out of its hilt-sheathe and jabbed the tip against the massive red transformer’s throat. Protoform X froze. The dark female smiled, but her smile was not a nice one. "And what, my friend, is your name?"

The protoform glared down at the smaller transformer before stepping back and spitting "X."

"X? That’s it?"

"That’s it."

"Shall we get started then, X?"

TBC..

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I know I know...it's unfinished. I'm lazy. Email any comments, rants, flames to metalmanta@yahoo.com