If you've ever read the Marvel TF comics some of this will seem fimiliar. I didn't totally rip them off but I took some ideas and concepts from it. Transformers Anew chapter 1 The loud buzzing of the alarm startled the young man out of his deep sleep he had obtained after some hours of restlessness. As the drowsy eye teen lifted his head from his pillow his winced as the brightness of the room and squinted at the alarm. With a relinquishing groan he reached over and smashed his fist onto the table on which the clock lay. With that, the alarm ceased and the young man allowed himself a few pity moments as he tried to wake up enough to walk across the hall to the bathroom. A half hour later he emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam and headed back into his room to scour for clothes. He scanned the floor of his room and found a black ACDA T-shirt and threw it on. A few minutes later, and after a lot of digging, he found his favorite pair of jeans and hopped into those as well. Before leaving, he slashed on liberal amounts of cologne and fixed his hair. “How’s it going Rip Van Winkle?” A man asked, his older brother, as our boy entered the dinning room. “I heard your alarm go off an hour ago. You really need to stop staying up so late, Buster.” “Shut up,” The younger sibling hissed as he made his way over to the fridge and took out the milk carton. “I had to take a shower…” Buster took a long swig from the carton, ensuing a disgusted look from his older brother. “That’s disgusting,” He said returning to the newspaper spread out before him and taking a sip from his coffee. “Might as well finish it off now that it’s contaminated.” Buster sneered. “Where are you heading off too in that get-up?” Buster asked pointing to his brother’s new navy blue suit. After draining the remainder of the Milk and tossing the empty carton into the trash Buster grabbed a banana and sat across from his brother. “Interview,” He responded as he took another careful sip of his hot coffee. “You might want to try and getting a job too. It’s time you started using your summers for more then just sleep. Next year you’ll be thinking about College and administrators like to see a boy with good work habits.” “Whatever,” Buster sighed and started eating. After a few moments of silence, the older brother folded his paper, drained his coffee mug, and stood. “Well,” He said. “I’m off. I’ll be home around 7 O’clock or so.” “Kay,” Buster replied as he watched his brother slid open the glass door leading to the back yard. “Bye Spike.” “See ya.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------- The town or Erie was very much all America almost to the point where it was cliché. The streets of downtown were lined with old Victorian stile homes with gorgeous gardens with attendant gardeners always ready to spend a good portion of their summer day picking weeds from between their Begonias. Young paper boys rode their bikes down the sidewalks tossing their papers into yards with admirable aim. Buster Witwicky had just finished his junior year at Erie High and was looking forward to long months of blissful summer laziness. No research papers or mile runs, no jammed lockers or Pre-calculus homework and no tests! The next couple of months were his and his alone and not even his older brother Spike could tell him otherwise. Me? Get a job? Buster thought as he cruised down the sidewalk on his bike. Ha! Yeah right… As he turned right at the intersection the Penny arcade came into view. Good old Penny Arcade. So many summer afternoons spent in its dimly lit interior smelling like old cigarettes and stale soda. As he chained up his bike on the rack outside he noticed a certain black convertible parked in front. “Great,” He said. “Brent’s here…” Buster entered the building with a certain feeling of hesitation. If Brent Collins was at the Penny Arcade that meant that Sara Wikington was working the summer shifts again. His assumption was confirmed as he entered. Sure enough Brent Collins was sitting on a stool at the snack bar, dressed head to toe in Abercrombie with a tan leather jacket, talking to Sara Wikington as she filled glasses with soda. As the bells of the door opening and closing echoed through the room heads turned. Most turned away when they saw Buster, a regular, but Sara smiled broadly and waved. Buster waved back and made his way to the bar, but being careful not to sit anywhere near Brent. “How’re doing Buster?” Sara asked as she walked up to him. From the corner or his eye, Buster could see Brent glaring at him. “Alright,” Buster replied ignoring Brent. “You?” “Oh, you know. Sam old-Same old,” She replied. “So let me guess: Sprite with a cherry on the rocks?” Buster laughed. “7-up actually,” He corrected her. Sara cursed and stamped her foot playfully. “Right,” She said. “Coming up.” As Sara disappeared to fill his order, Buster noticed Brent coming over. As the much larger boy (in terms of build) sat next to Buster, he took a long drink from his soda. “How ya doing’ Buddy?” Brent droned. “Buster,” he corrected him. “Huh?” Brent asked. “My name’s Buster, not Buddy,” He replied shortly. “Whatever,” Brent waved away the mistake as if it was an annoying fly and then grinned. “I hear you’re turning 17 this Tuesday…” Buster groaned internally. How did Brent Collins find out when his birthday was…? “Of course your going to do the Cave right?” Brent asked smiling slyly. “It’s tradition!” ‘Doing the cave’ was a type of test high school kids went through sort of like a right of passage. It consisted of going into Briar’s Cave on the eve of their 17th birthday up in the hills and writing your name on the wall along with several generations of other names going all the way back to the fifties. Brent had done the cave last spring and Sara and her friend Heather had gone together last July. Hell, even Spike had gone through it. Of their junior class Buster was the only one who hadn’t done it yet. Briar’s Cave was actually an old mining shaft that had collapsed in the thirties and was rumored to be haunted ever since. “I wasn’t…” Buster began, but Sara came back with his drink. “What?” She asked. “You aren’t doing the cave? Why not? It isn’t really haunted. All there is in there are a bunch of rocks and rusted tools.” Buster shifted uncomfortably. They were cornering him into it. “I don’t think I want to…” He said turning the cherry around in the drink with the stem. “Nonsense!” Sara insisted sternly. “Like Brent Said! It’s Tradition. Besides, fifty years from now do you want to regret never doing it? By adding your name with the rest of you’re your adding yourself to history of our town!” Buster felt hot under the added gazes of Brent and Sara. “Next Monday we’ll all meet there,” Sara continued. “And you can do the cave then.” Sara made a goofy pleading face at Buster as he considered. Brent looked on amused at how uncomfortable all this was making Buster. If he knew one thing about Buster it was that he hated being the center of attention, which baffled him to no end. “All right,” Buster said finally. “We’ll do it next Monday…” “Yipee!” Sara clapped excitedly. “This is going to be so cool!” “Yeah,” Brent said. “Cool.” Like he thought it would, Monday night came too fast. Before he knew it he stood at the mouth of Briar’s cave, a flashlight in one hand, a can of spray paint in the other, and a camera strapped around his neck. After hearing of Buster’s expedition, Spike had insisted he bring a camera to take a picture of his name as soon as he’d signed the wall. What a waste of a perfectly good Monday night, he thought as more kids began emerging from the surrounding foliage of the cave. Sara and brought her friends and Brent had brought…well…everyone else: Jocks, Cheerleaders, and several kids who’d graduated last year and were already starting college. Buster groaned. Brent had done it again. He had no idea why, but for some reason Brent was very good at bullying without actually bullying anyone. Brent knew Buster would do something stupid while doing the cave and he wanted everyone who mattered to be there to witness it. “Everyone gather round!” Brent’s voice hollered over the various conversations going on at one. Almost immediately everything hushed and people listened. “It’s our little Buster’s 17th birthday tomorrow and tradition dictates that he performs one more task before stepping into manhood…” “The Cave!” Several; jocks screamed from the back of the crowd. “That’s right!” Brent continued. “For almost six generations of this town, the youth have signed the back wall of Briar’s cave and tonight we add another!” As everyone started clapping, Buster raised his hand embarrassed. “Ok Buster,” Sara took over. “All you have to do is take the main shaft down two levels and take a right. The left is caved in so be careful.” With everyone cheering and hollering behind him, Buster took up his equipment and stood at the threshold of the cave. The broken rail tracks lay rusted and twisted at his feet and with a deep breath he started walking, flashlight lighting the way. This is stupid, Buster thought to himself. There’s nothing here but old dead guys’ stuff! The farther he traveled the colder it seemed to get. It was a clear summer night and he’d only brought a light jacket. Down in the cave it was frigid and damp. He adjusted the camera around his neck and proceeded on and his shoes kicked up dirt as he made his way. He jumped slightly when he heard a noise that turned out to be an old shovel falling down across the tracks. He didn’t feel scared, but he did wonder how the shovel had fallen over in the first place. Sooner then not he reached the end of the first level. The path dropped several feet and to his left was a collapsed ramp. The wood had fallen away, but the tracks still had the distinct shape and were left hanging in mid air. Above his he was a giant granite boulder sticking out of the ceiling. “I hope it stays there,” Buster said aloud as he stared at the giant rock. After a few moments he decided to continue on. Sitting at the edge of the drop, Buster pushed off and landed heavily to the ground a good four feet down. After walking another level he came to the fork Sara had mentioned. To the left was an opening blocked by huge rocks. The right was a similar opening that was clear. Like Sarah had told him he took the right and walked another few kilometers. It didn’t take long before he found where the cave ended. He found himself in a large chamber decorated with colorful and ornate signature from thousands of people, a good few of them now dead. After some searching he found Brent’s, Sara’s, Heather’s, Spike’s, and even his Dads. James R. Witwicky class of ’67. He didn’t expect to find his Dad’s and it made Buster smiled to know even his dad had gone through the ritual. But no matter how hard he looked he couldn’t find his mothers. He gave up some time later and began preparing to write his own name. He had just finished the Y in his last name when there was a rumble. Buster stopped dead and listened. His heart began to pound. The rumble got louder and louder and then he began to feel the ground vibrate. They too got stronger and when it finally dawned on his what it was he ran out of the chamber. He braced himself up against the shaft of the tunnel and closed his eyes. Dust and little rocks were shaken from the walls and ceiling around, him making him cough. He heard a loud crash and for a sickening moment he began to think the cave was collapsing. And just as suddenly as it had started, the shaking stopped. Buster stood there for a few moments allowing his heart to calm down. He felt weak from fright and he slowly began to compose himself. Deciding this task wasn’t worth his life, Buster gathered his things and left without taking the picture. When he reached the fork in the path, he saw that the rocks of the collapsed left entrance had fallen away and revealed a freshly opened crevasse. Buster stood there, debating. The ground began to tremor again and without a second thought Buster made for the exit.