Dried leaves crumpled under my feet as I sprinted over to the source of the cry. The morning air was cool and crisp, and the dim natural light of the woods was altered by the pale blue glow of my eyes. Jagged tire tracks could be seen in a dirt road nearby. The tops of a few tents were visible through the treetops as I got closer. I heard a whimpering sound coming from the campsite. I had to go help.

Unfortunately, I had to wait a moment before I could come to the rescue, as I had just tripped over a vine of poison ivy. Just when I had thanked my lucky stars that I was a machine and thus was incapable of having an allergic reaction to the weed, I stepped in mud. At least, I dearly hoped it was mud. . .

Fortunately, the disruption of my momentum made me realize that stealth might be a better option for approaching whatever situation lay ahead of me than blindly charging into the unknown. I snuck behind a sufficiently large tree trunk and tried to get a good look at what was going on.

There were two tall and burly men standing in front of a conspicuous hardwood dining chair in the middle of the campsite. One of the men was drawing inappropriate pictures in a small notebook, and the other was fiddling with a scalpel and chuckling. Tied to the chair was a boy in a grey hoodie who looked not too different from myself, although he seemed to be a bit closer to puberty than I was programmed to appear. The boy was begging and pleading for the men to let him go.

"Please don't take me to your evil lair! I have a fake wife and fake children!" He said. He seemed to have a faint accent as he spoke. Mediterranean, by the sound of it.

The two men staring him down were not impressed by his antics.

"What, you think we're going to fall for that?" Said the man with the scalpel.

"Yeah, do you?" Said the man with the crude notebook.

"I'll get you free internet if you let me go!" Said the boy.

"Really? You will?" Said the man with the stupid notebook. The man with the scalpel shot him a dirty look. Notebook man noticed and immediately backpedaled. "Uh, I mean, you don't have internet here to give me, so you're a filthy liar!"

The man with the scalpel sneered and pointed his tiny weapon of choice at the boy's throat.

"You know, you caused quite a few problems for our boys back there. If you think you're going to be able to weasel your way out of this, you are sorely mistaken."

At this point the boy abruptly changed his tune. Instead of trying to talk his way out, he now showed an attitude of defiance. He was still pale and shivering, though.

"I don't care what you do to me! You don't scare me! Much." Yelled the boy.

"Oh you don't, do you?" Said the man with the scalpel. "I don't suppose you care what we could do to someone else, then? Perhaps your lady friend would appreciate a little 'interrogation' instead."

At this the boy's fear all but went away altogether. The look in his eyes was that of intense rage, and his eyebrows furrowed into a glare.

"Don't you dare think of doing anything to her." He said, lowering the tone of his voice to the point where it almost sounded like a growl.

Scalpel man chuckled again.

"Kid, there's a time in everyone's life when they realize that life just isn't fair. For you, that's now."

The man grinned spitefully and drew the scalpel up to the side of the boy's neck.

"Here, let me give you a taste of what we're going to do to your pretty little friend when we find her."

I couldn't take this any more. If this went on any longer, the boy was going to be hurt very badly. I had to do something. Anything!

*BANG*

Thee was a little smoke coming from the chamber of my Mega Buster. I hated to blow my cover like this, but I didn't have any better ideas of how to handle the situation. Scalpel man dropped his namesake and slowly turned towards me.

"Well, well, well. Now what do we have here?"

*BANG*

The hardwood dining chair the boy was tied to fell apart, leaving the restraints attached to it in tatters.

*BANG*

OK, that one was just for fun.

Scalpel man was not amused. Enraged by his cruelty, I slowly walked up to him and looked him as straight in the eye as a several foot height difference could allow.

"You." I said. "You. . .are a meanie."

He glared.

"Um. Well catch you later, I guess!" I grabbed the Mediterranean boy's hand and ran like a ninny as fast as I could out of there.

After I made it a few yards, I noticed what looked like scalpel man and notebook man's car parked off to one side with the doors hanging open and the keys still in the ignition. I was in kind of a hurry to get as far away from the area as I could, so I sort of just jumped in, shoved the boy into the passenger seat and drove off with it. I don't think that was legal, but whatever just went down back there certainly can't have been, either. The boy took a minute to realize what had just happened, but once he saw that he was safe he began to speak to me.

"T-thank's for the help back there! Those guys never knew what hit 'em!"

"I didn't hit them. I just startled them." I said, keeping my eyes on the road like a sane person.

"Eh, potato, potato. I would have left by myself, but those two creeps were pretty sneaky!"

"Well, I'm just glad you're safe. Do you have a name?"

"What do you mean? Of course I have a name!"

"Which is?. . ."

"What? Oh yeah, right. My name is Pit."

Pit. What an odd name. Then again, my name is Rock, so maybe I don't have a right to talk.

I continued driving down the road. The sun was shining brightly in the full bloom of morning, and I just passed a mile marker listing the nearest large city. Hopefully if I make it there I can do some research and find out just where I ended up. Oh, and find a place to stay where weird buff men with notebooks and scalpels aren't trying to torment people.