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Five Phases of Torture	By : Scienceteacher Category: Transformers > G1 > Slash - M/M Views: 3729 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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This is a rewrite of one of my earliest fics on fanfic. More 'blood and gore' and even more shocking scenes to come.

You want smut? Just wait until chapter 2 through 4!!! It's been a sick, creative, blast!!

Forward: This occurs during the G1 episode where both Ultra Magnus and Cyclonus are taken prisoner by the Quintessons and ‘studied’. I’ve taken the liberty of taking their ‘studies’ a bit further, based on the fact that the Quintessons have the reputation of enjoying the pain of others.

5 Phases of Torture

Chapter 1

“When I get out of here, I will kill all of you!” Cyclonus bellowed, slamming his fists into the solid bulkhead of his prison. The fact that they had suckered him with a hologram of his leader, only added fuel to his fury. Storming around the small cell, he slammed into every inch of it, trying to find a weak spot.

If he could find a weak spot, he would crush them. Mash their Sharkicons’ teeth with his bare fists. Cyclonus envisioned the wonderful feeling of squishing the organic faces of his captors as he stormed around the cell. Could even feel the wonderful warmth of their living organic goo coating his massive chest… “I will tear each of you apart! Piece by piece!” he screamed as he again resorted to pounding the walls with his fists.

In another cell, unable to hear the ranting and banging of his Decepticon counterpart, Ultra Magnus was studying his predicament. He too had been suckered with a hologram of his leader, but as he realized the fact of his imprisonment, he began to wander calmly around the cell. Also checking for any weak points, but not wasting excess energy that he might need later.

He wondered how long it would be before his ‘trial’. Surely they would do the same thing they had done when they had previously captured him, Rodimus and Spike? But this time he didn’t have backup. He’d be facing the Sharkicon tank alone. A sense of dread filled him. “Well, guess I’ll just take out as many of them as I can – before they take me out,” he mumbled to himself. Deciding that he’d better save his reserves for the ‘trial’ and resulting death sentence, Ultra Magnus plopped himself down in the middle of his cell. The metal clang reverberating eerily from the cold walls.

***

“It is interesting that our subjects, though programmed with the same base programming, choose such different means to go about the same activity.” the head Quintesson mentioned to his subordinate.

His fellow turned one of his more pleasant faces to him. “Yes, it will be interesting to see the reaction differences to each of our tests.”

“This will lead to further our understanding of how the Transformers developed emotions.”

“And how to destroy those emotions.”

“Let us proceed with the first test.”

***

Agony Extreme

Cyclonus had finally stopped ranting, but still paced in frustration. He knew that he’d been captured by the Quintessons, but had no idea what they wanted with him. Probably just kill me. He thought which made his mood even darker, since being killed as a helpless captive was definitely not the way a warrior should die. Suddenly, a strong electric current bolted through him, shocking his systems into shutdown. As his optics closed and he fell to the floor, he heard the metallic footsteps of Sharkicon guards coming in to collect him.

Ultra Magnus sat in the center of his cell, deep in contemplation about his possible options of getting out of this predicament in one piece. Like Cyclonus, he had figured out that he was now a Quintesson prisoner, but unlike the Decepticon, he’d already been a prisoner of theirs before – and had managed to escape. He just hoped he’d get an opportunity to make his break. Suddenly, he felt his systems overloading as a strong electric current shot through him. He was completely out, before the Sharkicons came in and picked him up off the floor.

Slowly, the alarms shut off one-by-one within his processor, as Cyclonus began to reboot. Even before his optics activated, his battle processor had logged in the fact that none of his limbs were mobile. Doing an automatic scan, Cyclonus realized that he was pressed tightly into a cylinder-shaped container, pinning his arms and legs, allowing only his head to move. His optics began to glow, as he fully reactivated and looked around.

He was in some kind of lab setting. Then something caught his attention. Another capsule similar to the one he was in was pushed by. Within it was the rebooting form of Ultra Magnus. As it left his range of vision, Cyclonus glowered at the Quintessons in the room, for obviously; they were up to something if they had made the effort to take both of them captive.

A Quintesson approached him, and hovered there looking at him. “I give you the chance to free me now, or face the wrath of the mighty Decepticon forces!” the big mech growled.

Unconcerned, the five face just stared at him emotionlessly. “When you beg for mercy, then we will stop.” turning a face to his Sharkicon commander, he said. “Proceed with the second test.”

“I will never beg to a slogger like…” Cyclonus’s insult was lost, as a bolt of pure agony tore through his circuits. Grimly, he dug his fingers into his own hands as he fought to stay silent. Faintly he heard the Quintesson order them to continue these cycles, increasing the intensity, until the Decepticon either relented – or shutdown. Then another bolt shot through him, ripping away his ability to concentrate.

His entire chassis arched in agony as round after round of electrical fire shot through him. His optics became blurred with energon tears of pain. Blinking his optic shutters, he bit his bottom lip as hard as he could. Decepticons didn’t cry because of pain! And he was the Elite Guard Commander.. The strongest of cons! Cyclonus tasted the metallic flavor of his own energon as it leaked into his mouth from his broken lip. Concentrating through the pain, he willed the hate to build within him. Willed the rage to drown out his pain..

Again and again, bolts of pure agony raced through his circuits. His core temperature rising rapidly as his hydraulic pressure stayed at maximum levels. But still, Cyclonus refused to beg. Still refused to shed a tear.. He screamed in agonized rage with each assault to his sensory nets. Cursing them between his gasps.. Balling his hands into tight fists, he dug his own fingertips into the thin metal skin of his palms. Concentrating on his self-inflicted pain, he screamed threats at his tormentors. His vocalizer become hoarse as his volume increased with the level of pain they were subjecting him too.

He felt a dampness under him. And somehow Cyclonus knew that it was his servos beginning to fail. The intensity of the hydraulic pressure that he was maintaining over such a long time period was beginning to take its toll on his systems. He sought to force his pressure and internal heat down. Sought to make himself relax slightly, since it would not be good for his future retaliation against these barbarians if he was too weakened by energon loss. But another round of flaming agony seared through his nets. Arching his entire chassis up against his bonds, Cyclonus screamed and then went silent. His systems unable to withstand any more as protective circuit breakers flipped and shut him down. He laid there, energon slowly dripping from most of his joints.

Ultra Magnus’s optics went wild as the second round of electricity flew through his nets. His powerful chassis writhed in response to the agony. “Why?! What have we done?!” he screamed. His rpms skyrocketed as his battle processor responded to the waves of electricity. Hydraulic pressure shot to maximum levels as he strained against his bonds. Then the impulse was gone. His systems collapsed as he laid there shaking his head back-and-forth in denial. Denial that he’d been caught.. Denial that the Quintessons were so evil that they did this for mere enjoyment..

“Just throw me in the tank again…” he gasped. He’d rather face death quickly in the swirling mass of alt mode Sharkicons than do this.

“Do you beg for mercy?” The overseeing five-face asked in a sarcastic tone.

“No, just throw me in the tank. Let them rip me into shreds already!” Ultra Magnus demanded, his voice already getting hoarse.

“That’s too easy. Too quick a fate for a criminal,” the overseer snickered as he punched a button.

“Akkkkkkkk,” Ultra Magnus screamed as a stronger current raced through him. He writhed as his systems reacted. Hydraulic pressure exceeding his system limits. A spray of fluid hit the clear cover of his containment unit as one of the servos in his right hip joint blew. This allowed his system pressure to come down as his fluid levels declined. His chassis sank back down as the pressure plummeted. But his core temperature was skyrocketing again. Patting, he tried to get enough oxygen to his intake systems to compensate. But his coolant temperature wasn’t coming down. Just as he was going critical, the pain subsided.

“Do you beg for mercy?” the overseer smirked.

Realizing that it didn’t matter anymore, that they’d probably just keep torturing him until he shut down, Ultra Magnus weakly glared at the five-face. His face plate was streaked heavily with energon tears, and he lay in a puddle of his hydraulic fluid. “Frag you,” he whispered his voice barely audible.

He threw back his helm in agony as the next blast seared through him. His reaction so violent that he bent one of his own slender audio receptors, which only added to his suffering… What little hydraulic fluid he still had, was pumped up into his systems. He arched up off the fluid covered base of the containment unit, his hands balled tightly into fists. Slamming his head up and down, he bashed his helm against the solid metal beneath him. Energon began to leak profusely from the back of his helm, but still he beat his head. Trying to black out.. Trying to get away from the pain… Finally, his systems overloaded with the sensory input and he went limp in shutdown.

He laid there in a pool of his own hydraulic fluid. It seemed to get oily streaks within it as the energon from his damaged helm mixed with it.. Blended with it.. His entire chassis now covered in the oily stickiness of his own pain.

***

“It would seem that they are both equally as stubborn.”

“Yes, neither one will admit defeat.”

“Then begin the second test.”

----

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Five Phases of Torture