Chapter 3: Haunt

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Blackbird's P.O.V.

I thought that Megatron was going to reassure me, but he ended up scolding me harshly. It broke my emotions. It was a race of rage, sadness, fear, and confusion. I felt lost to the abyss.

That night, sleep was almost impossible and dreams didn't come easily. That is, peaceful dreams. When I could get to sleep, I had nightmares, fears. I woke up almost immediately, sweating and almost tearing over. Like usual, no one was there to help me through it. No one was there to sing me to sleep, to stroke my hair, or kiss my forehead. And certainly, no one was there for me to talk to.

I closed my eyes for the sixth time, forcing myself to sleep.

There were needles and faces. Pills were about a silver tray in front of me. When I glanced down at my arm, there was nothing but a skeletal, robitc arm covered in blue liquid. It was the liquid from before. I knew was. Wires were everywhere; in any place I looked. And there was my mother and father, the only humans I disliked. They were wording something. I saw it. I knew what the word was. I didn't want to repeat it, to say it back, yet I did. It slipped; it was lost to the bright white light.


Indeed. It was goodbye. The faded away to black and everything went dark. Then I started kicking, screaming. What was going on? Had I finally lost it? The colonel leaned over suddenly, grinning. "I'll help you. I'll free you from this nightmare." That was what he said. I reached for his hand, but it was dissappearing. It was . . . dying. There was nothing I could do. The heart monitor screen popped up next to me, the line was flat. It stopped. A loud, continuous ringing began. No one came. Was I dead? Did they think I was dead? They must've. They did, didn't they? That's what I was to them. Dead. I was also like that. But someone cared. He did care, didn't he? Did my family care at all?


I jolted up, sweating more than usually. Yellow eyes peered down at me. Was that . . . who I thought it was?

"Predaking . . .?" I asked, but I didn't get any answer. I don't know what I was expecting. A sharp claw ran down my cheek. My face felt sticky. Was I crying? I gazed up into his eyes . . . They were beautiful . . . I saw nothing but bad intention in them. But was he really that horrible? I thought he was. I knew he was. I never thought about that twice. Yet, was I the one that couldn't see past my hatred?

"Please answer me," I begged, yearning to be talked to. There was nothing but darkness and pure silence. Why wasn't he answering me? It was a lost cause. Useless. He was never going to talk to me. We hated each other. We weren't partners or friends; he even said so himself. I started believing it too. I knew it was true. I agreed with it. That night, everything was so clouded . . . I wasn't even sure if he was real.


I yawned, stretching. I woke up on the cold, stiff ground. I had forgotten it was where I usually slept. No one was in the room with me. Unfortunately. I forced myself to my feet, even with my stiff back. It was still dark in the room, but I had a feeling it was morning on the outside. Human instinct I guessed, but it was something else.

"Hello?" I asked into the darkness. "Is anyone, uh, home?"

There was nothing but silence. It was like some sort of horror movie, the one where the character is always left alone . . . What a sucky feeling. I get it.

" . . . One more chance . . . Megatron." Those were the words I barely made out. They were coming out from the other side of the wall. I pressed my ear up against it, trying to keep all of my sounds at a minimum, even my breathing.

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