Title: Unnatural

Title: Unnatural

Author: BlueLunacy7

Chapter Warnings: Mild violence, OCs'

Pairings: None at the moment but future Sam/Bee

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, the any quotes or lyrics, or song titles in anyway, shape, or form.

New Author Notes: I'm just fixing a few problems. I apologize for the inconvenience.

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Chapter One: Breath of Life

Before time began, there was...the Cube. We know not where it comes from, only that it holds the power to create worlds and fill them with life. -Optimus Prime

Light, brilliant, blinding light.

Radiance humming, brightness singing, a song so old, so new.

Orbs, globes, bubbles, stars flowing in a river of light.

Liquid light pouring into flesh.

Soft, supple, pliable, flesh.

No, no, no, not right. It's not right!

I'm supposed to wait for…

Where are you?

I'm lost.

Please….

Find me.

Breathe…..breathe……breathe……Sucked in cold wet air that burned. He opened his eyes to harsh glaring light, his head fuzzy as if it was stuffed with cotton. There was blurry movement; sound that was muffled at first slowly became clearer.

"…alive…"

"………the cube…."

Cold, he was so cold from freezing metal under him. Ankles and wrists were bound with leather restraints to the table under him. Walls of dark shiny concrete and metal with thick cables running along them, connected to something out of his line of sight.

To his right, a blond woman in a long white lab coat with a stethoscope pressed the cold plastic disk to his chest and listened. She moved it several times before stating to dark haired man in the same long white lab coat with a clip broad, "Subject 2501 appears to have no heartbeat."

No heartbeat? He was alive, how could he have no heartbeat? He tried to speak, to ask what was going on but no sound came out, only a breath of air. Why couldn't he speak, what was wrong with him? The doctor, nurse, whatever she was, ignored him, taking long rubber tube, and binding his arm so tightly his hand tingled.

She picked up a syringe from the row on a metal tray and put the needle to his skin. As she pushed, the skin gave but did not break under the needle. She made a noise of annoyance and pushed harder.

The needle bent.

His eyes followed that crooked needle as it was set back with its fellows. His stomach began to knot in anxiety. Again he tried to speak, to ask what was wrong with him, but this time the only that came out was a high pitched whine.

That got the woman attention. She stared down at him, her hazel eyes processing a flat quality, a clinical detachment as if he was a stay dog and yet there was a disquieting something behind that flatness. She took the rubbed tube off and picked up a scalpel from the trey, "Subject 2501 skin has strengthened, so a biopsy is required to obtain a sample."

Sample? Biopsy? She was going to give him some sort of anesthesia, right? She wasn't just going to cut into him, right? She couldn't, right? She made no move to apply any anesthesia. Panic ran through him as the blade touched his skin and he began to struggle against his bonds.

The clinical detachment had faded from her eyes. Instead she looked like a child who about to open a Christmas present. With a shiver of disgust, he realized she was enjoying this. He wanted grabbed that scalpel and stab in into her eye, feel it pop, driving straight into the brain. She was going to cut into him and take a piece.

Hatred, rage boiled up thick and hot like tar inside, coating every thought with a deep growling voice echo with him.

INSECTS.

Power prickled along his skin, changed and suddenly he was free. He was off the table, a clatter echoed harshly. He grabbed the woman and both of them fell to the floor, his hands around her throat. The voice growled, rumbling through him, all it would take was little squeeze to crush her –DISGUSTING- throat or a quick jerk to snap her neck-

No.

Another voice, soft like rain, whispering but louder then the other, gently, gently pushing the other back.

You don't want this.

The woman eyes were swimming in fear, an expression of true terror coming face to face with a monster.

'No,' he whispered in his head, swallowing the hatred, pushing the howling rage back. 'No, I am not a monster.'

He let her go, his strength fading with anger. Something hard slammed into the side of his head suddenly, knocking him over. Gingerly he touched his temple, his fingers came back wet but not red. Coating his fingers was what looked like blue ink. 'What?'

People rushed him from all sides, soldiers from their clothes. He tried to fight back, hitting and kicking, even going back to the childhood lesson of find skin and bite down until your teeth meet but he felt so weak.

There was an angry buzz of voices in the room as his eyesight faded to black. Falling into the dark of unconsciousness, he could still hear snips of conversation.

"…happening with NBE-1…."

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Author Notes:

I don't usually write fanfiction; actually, this is my first Fanfic ever. I enjoy reading them instead. Nevertheless, I'm sure many know how it is when a plot bunny won't leave you alone.

So enjoy and Review if you like.

Have a nice day.

-BlueLunacy7