#snapster

—

“I mean the vibes are definitely haunting, but so far nothing has happened. No ghosts or stowaways,” the shoulder mounted camera turned on its swivel to point at Cloutchaser’s face. His pet metal wing had crawled into his backpack and was nervously clucking as he looked around. The Decepticon, though, seemed more disappointed and perplexed than worried as he made eye contact with his camera.

“I did do a bit of reading up on this ship’s history, but nothing had explained why it became abandoned or what happened to the crew of Autobots. I mean… people like them, especially Rodimus who was their captain, don’t just… disappear…” Cloutchaser paused and narrowed his mismatched optics as he spotted something laying on the floor of the long hallway just up ahead. His camera followed his gaze and zoomed in. It… looked like a body.

He was proven right as he approached the form, his camera’s light illuminated the faded red-grey armor.

“Oh. I… I think I know this guy,” the light shined onto the figure’s face, revealing a set of curved horns that at one point were bright orange and hollowed out cheeks. The face’s expression was locked in a mix of shock, sadness and fear.

“It’s Cyclonus,” Cloutchaser hummed, turning his camera away from the body and back onto himself, “he used to be a fierce warrior way back when, but often struggled with following orders and was impatient. Apparently he lacked loyalty and was often manipulated or tricked by the Autobots. I’m not sure how he got mixed in with this crew. Some say it was an accident, others think manipulation or that he decided to switch sides. We may never know what happened, sadly. I like to think he always had good intentions, but whatever. Hopefully he went out like the great warrior he was.”

Something told him that wasn’t the case though. Aside from the expression on his face, Cyclonus was missing his left arm and leg, and the stumps left behind were too clean for that to have been from an attack. Plus his sword was still strapped onto his back. His observations weren’t bringing up any answers though, only more questions, so he moved on.

“Another one,” just five minutes after leaving Cyclonus’ remains, he stumbled upon another body, “hmm, this looks like… Blaster? Yeah, Blaster. Looks like he’s missing some parts too.”

Not far from Blaster was what was left of Getaway, his head laying on a pile of his own limbs. The further Cloutchaser walked, the more the bodies and body parts piled up.

“What’s weird is that they weren’t violently ripped apart,” he commented as he examined a dismembered servo, “someone carefully cut them up. If any of my viewers are experts in… I dunno, examining the dead or whatever, please do send in your thoughts in the comments! I think we’re onto something bigger than previously thought.”

Snapster squawked and pulled his head into the safety of his backpack. Clout quickly turned around to face whatever had startled his buddy. 

There was nothing.

“Huh. Don’t worry, Snap. I’m sure it’s nothing. Corpses may be scary but they can’t hurt you,” he received a small chirp in response and continued down the littered hall. He passed by a small door, maybe a closet, and tried to pull it open.

“Locked. Oh well,” he shrugged and left it, oblivious to the figure watching his every step from the shadows.

…

Starhawk snuck out of the Decepticon ship. He was a little surprised he could still sense the two other sparks nearing the med bay. Hm. Maybe this was his chance.

The Lost Light may be the ship itself, but even they couldn’t focus on everything going on inside. Plus, it probably thought he was still locked up dead in that closet, and if it did then it’s focus would mostly be on the intruders than anything else. If he acted fast, he might be able to grab Rodimus and leave!

‘Oh yeah,’ the remaining part of his face twisted in a wide grin of both excitement and anxiety as he scurried through the vents and gaps with less caution than he always had before, ‘it’s all coming together.’

…

“Wow. Just… wow,” Cloutchaser stared wide eyed at the state of the medical bay. It was a mess. Not in bodies (well, there were plenty of little fragments scattered about along with old energon stains) but just how everything was kind of everywhere. All of the tools were out, but not a single one was discarded onto the floor. The… not so dusty floor.

“Ok, that is just weird,” he muttered to himself as he crouched down to run a finger along the floor. He raised his servo up to the camera, “the floor is pretty clear, see? Meanwhile, out in the hall, there was a lot of dust on the floor and even in the air. Plus, all of the tools are out, but they’re also clean and look to be well cared for and used. This could mean that someone has been using this med bay and cleaning these instruments.”

Cloutchaser’s eyes paled at the realization and he swallowed nervously, his spark pulse starting to quicken, “oh god, we’re not alone on this ship, are we?”

His soul nearly evicted itself from his chamber as Snapster let out a shrill alarm call and flew from his backpack. He spun around, hands fumbling for his gun.

“Who is-?”

“Here,” a stranger clad in purple armor with red spines protruding from their back, head and shoulders stepped out of the shadows, blocking the doorway. They had one of their hands casually raised while the other was held neatly behind their back.

The Decepticon vlogger fell back on his rear end and pointed his handgun at the stranger. Snapster was flying around the room squawking in panic.

“You’re… Cloutchaser, right?” The stranger flashed a friendly/not-friendly smile.

“What’s it to you? You a viewer of mine or something?”

“Something like that I suppose,” they shrugged. Cloutchaser looked them up and down, gun (and camera) still pointed at them.

“Stalker then. Alright,” he hissed, “give me one good reason not to pull the trigger.”

“You’re free to try,” their smile widened a bit, “but it won’t do anything for you.”

“You threatening me? You threatening me in front of my son?!” He pointed at the panicking metal wing, “my good boy?! He don’t need more traumatizing! He’s already stressed out enough!”

The purple mech raised a brow at him and glanced at Snapster, “I really don’t care about your pet-”

“-Son-”

“Pet.”

“Well-whatever,” Cloutchaser snapped, “my pet, my son, my buddy and pal! Whatever! What do you want, weirdo?!”

“You’re being an incredibly rude guest,” they glared down at the Decepticon with disdain, “walking around like you own the place, recording my dead crew (are you still recording?) and now you point a gun at me. I should kill you right where you sit.”

Cloutchaser shrunk back as the strange Autobot loomed over him. He heard Snapster hiss and snap his jaws in a threat.

“But, I won’t,” they straightened their back and clasped their hands together with a loose smile, “no, that would make a mess of things here, and your pet will just get more worked up. He’s already loud enough as is.”

The Decepticon yelped in surprise as the stranger grabbed his arm and yanked him up.

“Ooh. A lot lighter than I was expecting.”

“I’m pretty hollow,” he stared at the stranger cautiously, but also greatly confused. They just smiled and tugged him towards the exit of the med bay. Snapster followed after his owner, “where are we going?”

“Somewhere else, so I can properly punish you,” their grip on his forearm tightened.

“Uh-how about no?” Cloutchaser hugged a startled Snapster under his free arm and gave a hard yank against the Autobot, his arm popping off at the elbow.

As the stranger was left with his spazzing limb, he turned and bolted.

“Hey!!”

‘Fragfragfragfragfrag!’ Clout picked up his pace as the walls suddenly shifted and cords shot out to try and grab him or knock him over. Good thing Clout was a pro at running away, expertly twisting, turning, leaping and sliding out of the grasping cords. He could hear the stranger shouting, but it was like their voice was everywhere at once.

He never expected the stranger to just materialize in front of him. His heels dug into the floor, sending a spray of sparks as he tried to skid to a halt. The air was knocked from his frame as that falter allowed a cord to grab him by his midsection. Snapster squawked as he flew from his grasp, but quickly righted himself in the air and flew out of sight into the shadowy hall.

“SNAPSTER!” Cloutchaser shrieked, his remaining hand stretched out to try and grab what was already long out of reach, “don’t hurt him! Do whatever you want to me but please don’t hurt him!”

“Your pet isn’t a priority,” the purple mech scowled, the con’s limp arm still in their grasp. They glanced at it and held it up at him, coincidentally making his own servo point at his face, “and by the looks of it, you aren’t either anymore.”

“Huh?” He blinked and made an attempt to retrieve his arm. The stranger didn’t stop him.

“You have been nothing but a waste of time!” They snapped, their red eyes flashing angrily behind their matching visor, “time that I could be using to-!”

They stopped, their eyes unfocusing. Cloutchaser stared blankly at them, confused as to what exactly was going on.

After a moment their narrowed eyes widened in shock, “oh no. No no NO!”

“What-” Cloutchaser was dropped to the floor and both the cords and stranger disappeared, leaving him sitting alone in the hall, utterly confused.

…

“How?! I killed you!” Lightlost glared at the mangled white jet standing in front of the captain’s seat. Starhawk grinned, holding Rodimus snug against his chest with both arms and tendrils. The tendrils were tightly tangled around the smaller frame, and Hawk was holding a talon right up against the prime’s throat, ready to sever a vital cord within an instant.

“You did, yes,” he chuckled, “but I’d hate to leave a promise unfulfilled.”

Lightlost bristled and balled their fists in frustration. They perked as it suddenly struck them.

“It was you! You bit the captain! You were the one picking through the deceased!”

“All me, baby!” He laughed, “I can’t believe I managed to actually trick you! Maybe being sparkless does have its perks!”

The entire ship rumbled with rage. Lightlost grit their teeth, “I’ll kill you again!”

“You’re free to try,” Starhawk cooly cocked his hip, “but one wrong move, and I might accidentally hurt the captain. Or worse.”

He pressed his talon into the soft mesh of an artery for emphasis. The avatar’s eyes widened and they backed off.

“You wouldn’t. You… you love him too much to ever do such a thing.”

Hawk frowned, “you were quick to judge during my first attempt. And while I do care about Rodimus, if it means he must die in order to be free from you, then I will end his suffering.”

“‘Suffering’? I was keeping him safe! I was keeping him with me!”

Starhawk hissed, flaring his wings out, “he’s mine to protect! You’re just a ship. A space boat. You were supposed to merely bring us from point A, to point B. Nothing more. Now get out of my way.”

The ship again rumbled, Lightlost’s expression became murderous. The sparkeater further hooked his claw into the prime’s neck and the tendrils tightened around his frame, his armor audibly starting to give under the pressure.

Lightlost again backed down. Their face was twisted in frustration. It almost looked like they would start to cry, honestly. After another moment, the avatar vanished.

Starhawk smirked, but narrowed his eye suspiciously as he stepped out into the hall with his prize and started to walk at a brisk pace, phantom spark pounding as he remained on high alert in case the ship tried anything. But considering that his claw was in Rodimus’ neck and tendrils wrapped around delicate joints, they probably wouldn’t. They cared too much about the captain.

His fast walk turned into a full sprint as he neared the hangar. The Decepticon ship’s lights were a beacon. Starhawk couldn’t stop the excited laughter bubbling up from his chest as he ran inside and plopped down into the pilot’s seat. He hugged Rodimus even tighter and nuzzled against his cheek. He was surprised to find it wet with tears, and his eyes, wide and bright, stared up at him.

“I did say that I’d save you, didn’t I?” Rodimus just blinked at him.

His laughter subsiding, Hawk freed one arm to start the ship and steer it out of the hangar. When had they last seen the stars?

He should also try calling Slingarm once they were far enough away. Rodimus could honestly benefit from a licensed doctor. Even a crazy one.

He started to laugh again.

…

Lightlost wasn’t sure what to do. They had messed up. They wanted to transform and snatch the runaway Decepticon ship up and hold it close and never ever let Rodimus go again, but Hawk would surely kill him if they tried that.

They stumbled to the control room and stood at the doorway.

The pale red Tagonopterox was perched on the head of the captain’s chair. He looked at the holoavatar, chirped, then returned to preening the rotors on his wing.

This wasn’t fair. Their captain should be sitting there, like he always had. It was so empty here. Why was everyone gone?

Lightlost shuffled to the empty chair, dragging their feet like they weighed several tons, and collapsed on the armrest. They buried their face in their arms and screamed, startling the metal wing away.

They screamed and screamed, even after their avatar dissipated, the entire ship continued to scream.

A forgotten Decepticon vlogger could only watch and record as bit by bit, the Lost Light started to shut themself down.

—

Contrary to popular belief, sparkeaters could not make more sparkeaters. Starhawk had tried several times now after visiting Rodimus a few more times, planning on snuffing his spark, only to chicken out at the end. Even if the bites he had inflicted in the far past hadn’t done anything, he just needed to be certain. Of course, he had to be careful about where he bit the captain, he didn’t want Lightlost to discover the marks after all.

So that plan was scrapped pretty quickly. Onto the next idea that didn’t involve killing Rodimus.

…

What the hell was he doing?

Starhawk used to be cold, calculating, merciless. The last time he let his feelings get the better of him, he was shot down and then a mad doctor turned him into a freak against nature.

Maybe he was getting soft. Or he was just too tired to think rationally anymore.

Maybe the solitude and stress of this situation was finally starting to get to him. He may have been designed to tolerate loneliness longer than most, but that didn’t mean he would never feel lonely. It would just take longer for it to drive him mad.

Well, maybe it wouldn’t take as long as it should, thanks to the whole sparkeater thing.

He really needed to eat something fresh.

A good meal would help him think, but that wasn’t possible at this moment (he had tried to find the titan’s spark, but he just kept on getting lost), and honestly the thought of eating Rodimus’ spark made him feel ill. He didn’t deserve to die like that.

So he decided to make his way to one of the hangars and shut himself down. He’d wake back up once fresh new sparks decided to drop in to explore, however long that would take.

…

“What’s this?” Lightlost narrowed their eyes as they held the captain’s arm up. They had noticed a small mark that wasn’t there last they visited Rodimus, and upon getting a closer look, they discovered bite marks. Several of them were scattered on the underside of his arm and back.

Their eyes widened. Their captain had been attacked. Several times, without them noticing it sooner. The ship’s avatar covered their mouth as they stared at the wounds.

There was someone here that they didn’t know about!

How??

Light’s grip on Rodimus’ arm tightened. If it weren’t for the groan of straining armor, they wouldn’t have noticed. They quickly lowered his arm back onto the armrest.

“I’m sorry, Captain. I promised to protect you and yet still…” the avatar grit their teeth in frustrated worry. They needed to find the intruder, and they could not let them get to the captain again, “don’t worry. I will stay with you now. Whoever did this will not touch you again.”

As their avatar remained with Rodimus, their frame started the search. They turned on all of their lights, locked all doors and sealed any exits. Cameras scanned the hallways and rooms, looking for any changes or movements, any signs that something was amiss. They searched for hours, possibly days or longer.

For whatever reason, they simply couldn’t detect the dormant sparkeater curled up within their walls.

…

“You sure this is a good idea?” Windwing had asked this question several times within the last hour or so. Cloutchaser let out a strained sigh.

“It’s just an abandoned ship.”

“An Autobot ship. An Autobot ghost ship,” Windwing nervously chewed on his thumb. Cloutchaser turned away from the controls to give his travel partner an annoyed glare.

“Ghosts aren’t real.”

“You don’t know that!” Windwing threw his arms up, “you’ve never seen one!”

“Exactly,” he turned his attention back to the controls, “because they don’t exist.”

“But-”

“We’re here!”

Windwing’s shoulders drooped and he quickly shut his mouth. The infamous Lost Light was in their tiny ship’s sights, looking more lonely and haunted than reports had described.

“Right, where do we… a-hah! There we go!” Cloutchaser steered the ship towards the Lost Light’s hangar. How lucky that it was open for them.

Like it was expecting them.

Windwing started trembling. That simply had to be the case.

The Decepticons parked near the exit and Clout stood up from the controls.

“Hand me my backpack, will ya? Oi! Snapster! Let’s go exploring, buddy!”

From his perch, a pale red Tagonopterox metal wing lifted his head up and squawked, flapping over to land on the green Decepticon’s head.

“Good boy,” he grabbed his oversized backpack from Windwing and swung it over his shoulder, “everyone ready?”

“N-n-no…” Windwing whimpered. Cloutchaser sighed, getting annoyed with his cowardly companion.

“Seriously? Fine, if you don’t want to come then you can stay here on the ship,” he waved a hand dismissively and turned towards the exit.

“Great,” Windwing forced an awkward smile and a shaky thumbs up. Staying on their ship was only… mildly reassuring.

With that, the Decepticon vlogger left him behind and wandered into the darkness of the ghost ship.

He wanted to cry.

…

..

Starhawk’s optics onlined and he lowered his hand from his face, his senses already going on high alert. He didn’t bother to try and figure out how long he had been out, it didn’t matter right now. If he was up, then that could only mean one thing.

‘Fresh sparks!’

Already he was drooling.

Carefully and quietly, the sparkeater jet stalked through the darkness, tendrils waving slowly to help map out his surroundings.

It didn’t take long to spot the small Decepticon ship, as its lights were still on. He could sense one spark inside.

…

Cloutchaser had been gone for a little over half an hour now. It wasn’t that long, really, considering the size of the Autobot vessel, but it still made Windwing worried.

He had read a lot on this ship and its crew, from before it was abandoned to now. Nothing he had read or seen regarding this cursed place had been good. It was like a black hole, and anyone who got too close likely would never be seen again.

And he didn’t want to become another statistic on this ship.

Windwing glanced at the controls. He could just… leave. Cloutchaser was probably dead anyway. Or would be soon, anyway.

He stepped towards the pilot’s seat, somewhat hesitant. Maybe Cloutchaser would return. Maybe he was right…

Yeah-no. No he wasn’t. Wind shook his head. That idiot and his pet were good as dead, and he 

was not gonna be joining them.

*Clunk!*

The Decepticon froze, his plating flared in alarm. What was that? A cold chill ran up his back as the first ‘clunk’ was followed by smaller ‘clinks’ and metal groaning from strain.

Ssssssss…

Slowly, Windwing turned his head to look behind him, his spark racing in terror.

A tall lanky figure loomed over him. It seemed to be growing taller, its arms lengthening and knees bending. White eyes stared down at him from half a face.

Four tendrils sprouted from its back and pointed at him.

Windwing’s eyes went pale with fright as he realized what he was staring at.

The sparkeater hissed and raised its arms, slowly reaching for him. 

Run! Run you idiot!

He wanted to, he wanted to flail and scream, but all he could do was let out a pathetic whimper as tears rolled down his face.

The sparkeater’s eyes flashed as it opened its jaws with another hiss. Windwing’s frame jerked and he saw something blue fly from his chest.

Starhawk didn’t watch the body fall, too busy downing his first proper meal in centuries. He sighed, the relief instantaneous. It was about time he got to feed.

He wiped at his teeth as he started to look around the small Decepticon ship, his own frame reverting back to its (somewhat) normal proportions. 

When he woke up he had sensed three sparks, but given that two had wandered deeper into the Lost Light, he didn’t go for them. More than likely the ship was already aware of them and getting ready to attack if it hadn’t already.

But that wasn’t his focus anymore. One spark was enough to satiate his hunger for now, and he had much more urgent matters to attend to.