Lockdown's Pasta

Discussion in 'Transformers Fan Fiction' started by deltaprime, Mar 27, 2012.

  1. deltaprime

    deltaprime The Christian Transfan

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    I figured I'd try my hand at writing a Creepypasta, so I picked a character at random and just rolled with it. Here's what I came up with.

    As the moon continued its tranquil orbit, Lockdown stared at the image of the Earth off in the distance from outside his half-destroyed ship, Death’s Head. He was forced to remain in hiding, lest he be discovered by the Autobots. Lockdown was once considered the best bounty hunter in the galaxy, but ever since the Earth Wars ended, the Autobots found themselves in need of a new target to hunt down. As a result, all the arms dealers, double spies, saboteurs, and others who held unorthodox occupations found themselves betting locked away by Sentinel Magnus and his cronies.
    There was no chance that they had forgotten about Lockdown either. He had played a large antagonizing role in the lives of some of the more prominent Autobots, namely the crew that was placed under the leadership of a certain Optimus Prime. Even now, they were probably looking for him. The tables were turned, and now he was the one being searched out to be brought to justice.
    “They’ll either find me or I’ll die out here, I suppose,” Lockdown muttered to himself.
    With that thought in mind, the decrepit bounty hunter returned to his ship. Inside Death’s Head, there were assorted weapons, limbs, sensory mechanisms, and bits of armor-trophies of the hunt, as Lockdown called them. On occasion, Lockdown had to resort to using some of the parts he confiscated to repair himself. Now was one of those occasions.
    Surveying his arm, Lockdown noticed that he had an open rust wound with several exposed circuits. They sparked a bit as he attempted to repair himself. After several failed attempts, Lockdown finally tore his arm off in frustration and decided to look into a replacement.
    As he looked through his inventory, something interesting caught his eye. Laying innocently between a blue leg and an old chest piece was something resembling a cerebro shell. Painfully, Lockdown knelt down on his old legs and reached for the shell.
    Then it transformed.
     
  2. deltaprime

    deltaprime The Christian Transfan

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    To his surprise, the insect-like creature flew up to Lockdown’s optic and began burrowing into it. Screaming in pain, Lockdown tried to pry it out of him. Several of his wires were ripped out of his head, but after much effort, the insect robot was finally plucked out of his optical cavity. All the excitement proved to be too much for the bounty hunter’s spark, so he quietly went into a brief period of stasis after squishing the insect between his fingers.
    When next he awoke, Lockdown found himself feeling better than ever. In fact, he was perfectly healthy! Both of his arms were once again attached, and his joints didn’t feel weak anymore. It was almost as if someone had found him and fixed him up. Yes, someone like…..
    “Ratchet? Are you there?”
    The bounty hunter’s question was only answered by the sound of its own echo. Quietly and carefully then, Lockdown began to search all around Death’s Head to make certain he had no guests. His search was in vain, however. He was assuredly alone on the moon, which made his sudden revitalization all the more mysterious.
    “Who could have done this to me?” he asked out loud.
    Then, out of the corner of his perfectly restored optic, Lockdown noticed something moving. Whatever it was, it was laying amongst the pile of limb replacements he had gathered on the floor. His spark surging ever so slightly, Lockdown moved himself closer to the pile. He was convinced that he wasn’t alone after all.
    “Come out now, or you’ll get a face full of EMP Generator!” he threatened.
    Now, Lockdown knew that he didn’t actually have an EMP Generator. His “friend” Ratchet reclaimed it years ago. It was the first weapon that came to his mind, however, and he had hoped that his threat made an impression.
    It did.
    The pile of robotic limbs scattered everywhere as a dark figure burst forth from it. It landed directly in front of Lockdown and stared him in the eye. It was covered in rust and dents. Its arm was half detached from its body, and it was missing its lower jaw. Quietly, this beast let out an angry growl that made Lockdown’s circuits run cold.
    “Prowl? Is that you? How did you—“
    But the beast cut him off by slashing at his chest. Savagely, it began to tear away at Lockdown’s chassis, ripping him apart bit by bit. The pain was excruciating, but after a short time it seemed to just vanish. In fact, there was suddenly no trace of Prowl’s doppelganger anywhere.
    In a flurry of confusion and terror, Lockdown began to rifle through the pile of replacement limbs on the ground in an attempt to find the monster, but to no avail.
    “My mind must be slipping,” he muttered to himself. “Seemed so real.”
     
  3. deltaprime

    deltaprime The Christian Transfan

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    The old bot reclined on a nearby bench, determined to get a little bit of rest. As he shut his optics, he felt something grab at his ankles. A quick glance under the bench revealed that none other than Lockdown’s old nemesis, Ratchet, was the culprit. The odd thing was, however, that he was missing his entire outer chassis. His body was simply a mass of metal and terror. Lockdown gave out a shout, surprising himself by its volume, and rushed forward. Unfortunately for him, he forgot that Ratchet had a hold of his ankles and he fell flat on his face.
    Slowly, the zombified figure dragged Lockdown closer and closer to himself, all the while growling and moaning. Lockdown tried to crawl away, but he soon found it was no use. The Ratchet-beast loomed over him, staring down at him with dead optics. Then it was joined by a plethora of other figures, all looking like they’ve long since been deceased. Lockdown recognized every last one of them, too. Bumblebee. Arcee. Prowl again. Even Optimus Prime glared at him with a hideous half-face.
    “So that’s how it’s going to be then? Fine!” Lockdown finally snarled in the face of overwhelming odds. “I’ve had enough of this, and I’ll be slagged if I go down without a fight!”
    Swiftly, Lockdown kicked up his leg and slammed it into Ratchet’s face, sending him staggering backwards. He jumped up to his feet then and grabbed both Prowl and Bumblebee by the neck. He crashed them into each other with as much force as he could muster.
    “Bring it on! I’ve faced Gobots scarier than you!” he shouted defiantly.
    Lockdown certainly put up a tremendous fight, but he soon realized it was a losing battle. Out of nowhere, it seemed, there were more and more of these living dead Cybertronians pouring in. In addition to that, all the spare parts Lockdown had collected began assembling themselves into freakish abominations. A wall of hands came at Lockdown, dragging him down further and further. Piece by piece, they dismantled him, and there was nothing he could do about it.
    “No! Let me go! Please!” he cried.
    He was finally beginning to lose his composure. Half of his body was gone, but the zombies refused to relent. Soon, Lockdown was feeling too weak to even protest his demise. He grew quieter and quieter, failing to realize that his assailants were backing away from him.
    Then all was silent. Lockdown opened his optics and, to his surprise, saw the undead Autobots standing around him in a circle. They did not approach him. They did not even growl. They just stood there, utterly motionless. During this brief recess, Lockdown was able to observe his pitiful condition. He was nothing but a head on a ripped open torso, and his Energon was spilled all over the floor of Death’s Head.
    “Why won’t you just kill me?” he said pathetically. “Why? Why?”
    Why?
    ………………….
    The moon continued its peaceful orbit. Earth was off in the distance, unaware of the events that transpired on this great rock in space. On the surface of the moon was a half-destroyed ship, the Death’s Head. Inside the Death’s Head sat a small Decepticon named Bombshell, smiling happily at himself for another job well done. He glanced down at an old bounty hunter who was going into convulsions and having one nasty nightmare. Eventually, the bounty hunter stopped moving, and Bombshell knew his job was done. Moments later, a blue and red figure entered into the ship, looking very pleased.
    “Not bad,” said the ex-Autobot. “Now that he’s out of the way, things will be a bit easier for me. Thanks.”
    “Any time, Devcon. Any time.”
     
  4. Jazzfan0217

    Jazzfan0217 Just chillin'

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    wait so bombshell killed him through his nightmares?
     
  5. deltaprime

    deltaprime The Christian Transfan

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    Kind of. I wanted it to be implied that all the horrific images were too much for his aging spark/mind and that's what did him in. I'll most likely be doing some editting of this in the future.
     
  6. Jazzfan0217

    Jazzfan0217 Just chillin'

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    wow :jawdropper:  scary, but it was a good read, nice work :thumb  !!!
     

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