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While his systems were restarting, Cheetor felt like he hadn’t recharged in decacycles. His frame was exhausted, and he was too tired to move or even open his optics. Once the static in his processor cleared, he went through his memory files. He remembered being on patrol, having a brief argument with Dinobot over his comms, and then he came across multiple fissures splitting the ground. The files ended there rather abruptly, which made him nervous, but at least he couldn’t feel any damage to his frame. What he could feel was that he was in bot-mode, lying face up.
At first, he assumed he was resting on his berth within the Axalon until he realized he wasn’t inside or lying on a hard surface. Instead, he was outside floating in the air. A cool breeze brushed across his faceplates, and he could hear birds chirping in the distance.
It was like he was resting on a fiber hammoc... almost like when-
"Wake up."
Cheetor’s thoughts froze, and a chill shot up his spine.
The voice, his voice, sounded clear in his audials and dangerously close to his right. He wanted to draw his blaster and start shooting, but he was frozen, paralyzed by dread building inside him. His fur spiked when he heard loose dirt falling and he sensed something moving around him.
“Wake up~.”
He repeated louder, this time to his left and with a more ‘cheerful’ tone. Cheetor didn’t dare move and kept his optics shut. He had to be dreaming. He was still in recharge and this was just a nightmare. It was only-
Then he spoke again with an impatient growl, “I said-”
Cheetor screamed as a jolt of electricity shot through his body. His joints ached, his circuits burned, and he tried squirming to get away but something was tying him down. The shock lasted for a few agonizing clicks until the current finally stopped.
No longer in kidding himself, slowly, he opened his optics. It took a moment for his vision to focus, and he found himself down in a dark chasm, looking up at a starless night sky through the silhouettes of the rocky walls.
A sudden faint vibration rippled across his back and he tensed up.
Hesitantly, he arched his head back and locked eyes with a large purple spider that came into view. “Ah, there you are.”
Cheetor yelped and tried fruitlessly to get away with what little energy remained. He glanced to his sides and found himself stuck in another stasis web.
“Comfortable?” Tarantulas laughed, his fangs twitching with sinister delight.
Cheetor shivered but put on a brave face. “Hardly,” he growled, “what’s your game this time?”
Tarantulas merely laughed in response and crawled over his captive who flinched and squirmed underneath him. He crawled over to a small monitor webbed to the wall with some cables attaching it to the web.
“As you can see, you’re in another stasis web. I’m sure you remember its purpose,” he said with a chuckle.
Cheetor trembled, he remembered the incident in the cave he almost became spider food before Rattrap saved him. Now with the thought of his mech fluids being devoured, he hoped he was nearby this time as well.
Tarantulas then transformed, staring him down through his yellow visor. “But this one I conceived with some… modifications,” he said and turned one of the knobs.
Cheetor shouted as another jolt of electricity ran through his body. The shock was less intense but he still writhed in pain. He could also the energy in his circuits being gradually drained away.
The Predacon then let out a lowly chuckle and turned the knob further, raising the voltage and causing Cheetor to start screaming again. Every inch of his frame burned with a sharp pain cutting through his limbs and inner systems. His vision became clouded with static and he thought his processor was going to short circuit.
Tarantulas watched on in amusement before turning the knob back down. Cheetor’s cries died down into a pained groan and his optics readjusted as he looked back to his captor.
“So, what? Mad your dinner got away?” Cheetor vented out tiredly.
Tarantulas smirked, “As a matter of fact, yes,” he said and approached him. “I was hoping to catch the rodent first as revenge for interrupting my supper, but since you stumbled along, I couldn’t resist.”
The arachnid was now in his face, his piercing optics shining through his visor into his. “And I believe, you’ll taste so much better,” he whispered into his right audial.
Cheetor tried to not let his fear show but he couldn’t have felt any more helpless. “Rattrap and the others will find me, just like last time.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Tarantulas replied airily, “I’ve been tracking your patrol routes through the sector and your communications are cut. There will be no rodents or any other Maximals to interrupt me this time,” he finished with a sadistic laugh.
Pure terror etched across Cheetor’s face as his optics started darting around for a way out. Silently pleading that Rattrap, Dinobot, or Big-bot to come down and save him.
Tarantulas then cupped his face to stare into his eyes, “I’m not finished with you, kitty cat. I’ll be having my feast tonight. Only this time, I intend to make you suffer.”
He raised one of his sharp claws and brushed it gently against his faceplates “You’ll be screaming through the night until you’ll be begging me to terminate you.”
The sensation triggered his defensive instincts and Cheetor then latched his fangs into his claw. Tarantulas jerked his arm back with a shout and looked over his bleeding claw.
“Y-you don’t scare me, you eight-legged freak,” he stated in defiance, but he couldn’t prevent the wavering in his voice.
Tarantulas looked back down at him and glared back into his optics. Cheetor expected to be punched or hurled insults and threats… only to be met with a silent, predatory smile that made his fuel lines freeze.
“Aww, how disappointing,” he said with faux sadness and crept back to the control monitor. Cheetor’s eyes widened with panic as he placed a servo back on the knob.
“N-no, wait, y-”
“Maybe this will put a little shock in your nerves,” Tarantulas said with gleaming malice and turned it to the highest setting.
Cheetor’s pleas were cut out with a scream so loud it caused his voicebox to crackle. The pain was more intense than anything he experienced before. Smoke began to rise off his scorching frame and sparks began flying out his joints as he thrashed in the webbing.
His screams echoed out of the fissure and into the night, drowning out maniacal laughter while it continued.