Work Text:
The day was beautiful, the sky clear and blue with fading jet trails. There was still some smoke and the heavy scent of spilled energon, but the battlefield was now empty after the latest clash between the Autobots and the Decepticon forces.
The prone form of Starscream was still lying on the ground in a heap a bit farther away, having been shot down during his retreat. It seemed like no one had really noticed his fall, or cared enough to stop for him. As such, he was sluggishly bleeding out, his torso still faintly sparking from all the torn circuitry seen through his shattered cockpit.
The wound was so deep that you could see his spark-light pulse, slower and slower with every passing moment. Until the air stilled, as if suspended in time, just before it could give out for the last time.
Time did actually appear to have stopped, as could attest a nearby bird, frozen in the middle of the flap of his wings.
Suddenly, a humanoid figure appeared, clad in a black robe covering its entire body. It was very much dwarfed by Starscream’s size. It turned toward the soon to be corpse, and jumped in fright. It looked up and down, then approached the Decepticon, and warrily touched it with the tip of its foot. It then proceeded to curse. Loudly.
The next (still suspended) instant, if poofed back away, only to reappear, this time with a second robbed figure.
“So you see my problem ? I have no idea why, but my list says that I’m supposed to send this… robot alien to hell.” it said, gesticulating toward Starscream, as if his existence offended it (which it did).
“I see yes, that sure is a first, Bob.” Nodded the second figure, who was somewhat taller and broader than the now named Bob.
“Why would a PLANE be sent to catholic hell ? Don’t aliens have their own pantheon, and afterlife ? This makes no sense Alex !”
Alex took out a startlingly large book from somewhere, and flipped the pages a few times until they found what they were looking for.
“There it is ! From what I can see, he declared himself Pope when he learned that the old one had died. He was in fact named Pope officially after threatening the priests into voting for him.”
“WHAT ? How come I’ve never heard about it ?” exclaimed Bob.
“It was during your week-long break, and then we got swamped by work as usual, and no one thought to tell you about it I guess ?” answered Alex, who had now approached Starscream. They touched his plating gingerly, and even swiped some gooey energon on their gloved finger. Bob slapped their hand away from their face when they tried to lick the liquid to taste it though.
“From what I know, it’s not like his tenure lasted long anyways. He got bored of it after roughly 74 hours, and gave the hat back. I think he was annoyed that the title didn’t let him command an army or something ? And angry that the hat was too small for him.” explained Alex, pouting a bit.
“And that was enough to land him in the catholic jurisdiction ?”
“I mean he did get sprinkled in holy water at some point, and I guess it was enough of a baptism ? But he also, well, sinned so much that he got on the fast track to hell.”
“And how exactly am I supposed to drag a several ton pile of sentient scrap metal to hell ? Because if I do the usual “take the soul out and guide them to the gates” he’s going to try to squish me and the robe will be a nightmare to clean if he manages to.”
“You can actually send him down automatically !” Nodded happily Alex, before making grabby hands until Bob handed them their List. Then, they used a pen fished out of a hidden pocket, and wrote something down. “There you go, if you do this, it’ll send the soul of the sinner to hell automatically ! A hell hole will open, take him and then close, no mess. It’s perfect for any violent and reluctant soul !”
“Nice, I’ll make sure to remember then. I do hope this is the only alien I’ll be tasked with though. Not worth the hassle.” said Bob, a bit more happily.
And indeed, the next moment, the ground underneath Starscream crumbled underneath him, and sent him straight down into the earth.
Or, more accurately, straight down to Hell (catholic flavor).
“Uh, I didn’t think it’d take the body down too. Might cause some fuss if his corpse disappears mysteriously.” noted Alex, sheepish. “Oh well, not our problem anymore.”
And with the task done, both beings left as well, and time started again normally.
—
For some reason, as he fell down, Starscream’s injuries healed themselves, and he finally became conscious again. However, this was a bit late, since he was plummeting down at an impressive speed head first. He had no time to react, and met the ground with a thunderous noise.
“AAAAGHRRH !” he exclaimed, before whimpering and rubbing his aching helm.
Then he got up and dusted himself, before patting his body all over.
“What in Primus’ name happened ? How am I even still online ?” he wondered. He came to a quick conclusion. “Of course ! I, Starscream could not have been brought down by a simple missile !”
He pointedly did not think about how a few minutes ago he was in fact agonizing and convinced he was about to deactivate on a muddy disgusting organic planet, after having failed to dodge.
He could still move so everything was fine !
“Oh man, this is a first.” said a gravelly voice at his feet.
Starscream may have lived up to his name, and screamed out of surprise. (He would say that it was a battle scream but it was a clear lie.) The organic at his feet was… strangely colored and shaped. It kind of reminded him of the aquatic organics the Decepticons had met that one time. Since the aquatic pests had then betrayed them, it was not necessarily a positive first impression.
The organic was both scally and furry, with a strange mix of bestial features including a tail and horns. It was also a pretty nice shade of burgundy.
“Hi there pal !” it smiled, with a mouth full of sharp teeth. Starscreal barred his own fangs in response, hissing a little (not unlike a very, very big kettle).
“You ! What is this place ?” shouted Starscream, pointing at the alien being. “Did I get transported to another planet ?” Then, a bit less loudly, he said “Could this have been another groundbridge incident ? Blasted Shockwave, I bet he’s trying to get rid of me.”
“Naah, this is still earth… Technically. Welcome to Hell ! Your new, Catholic flavored eternal torment !” It said with a thumbs up. “Now, usually we’d send newcomers directly to the layer they belong to but ! Not only did you sin aaallll over the place, but you’re also, you know, an alien. So the Big Boss himself wants to meet you. You should be honored buddy, that doesn’t happen often.”
“Of course your leader would want to see me ! I’m the Great Starscream.” nodded the Decepticon, somewhat flattered, and trying very hard to not think about the rest of the sentences he was just told.
Together, they traveled for some time. How long exactly was unknown, as Starscream’s chronometer was utterly glitched ; it went backward, and forward multiple years, then jumped a millennia and then backward again in an endless stream of nonsensical numbers. Sometimes it wasn’t even showing a date, just some random words such as “Sin time” and “HAHAHAHAHA”.
It went without saying that Starscream stopped looking at it very fast.
They did eventually reach a sort of bastion made of very red bricks, suspended above a lake of bubbling lava. The sheer heat it was giving off was distorting the air around it. Starscream, who was not lava-proof, carefully traversed the drawbridge, his turbine heels ready to blast him up just in case. The two very different beings did reach the massive gate, and the doors were opened by two hulking guards.
Starscream was almost impressed by the showmanship and careful manufacturing of the most intimidating setting as possible. Almost. He did live with Decepticons, and once you were able to survive pissing off Megatron, well, most things paled in comparison. He certainly wasn’t apprehensive in the slightest !
He was led into corridors that must have been considered grand by squishies, but were somewhat cramped for a noble Cybertronian his size. He didn’t have to bend down or turn sideways to let his wings pass through the halls, but that was it. Some of the decoration, like the torch holders, were adorned with skulls, and some of the furniture was made of gross pulsating mounds of flesh, that occasionally quivered.
He grimaced. Disgusting.
At some point, he unfortunately stepped on one, and let out a piercing shriek.
“EWWWWW IT GOT UNDER MY PLATING,” cringed the gigantic jet robot, not unlike someone stepping in dog poop barefoot.
The being who was leading him through the building watched him judgementally, especially when he ripped off some fabric hanging on a wall to wipe it from his plating and thrusters.
There was no way he was going to be meeting whatever leader this place housed covered in fluids. He had more dignity than that. Head held high, heels clicking on the ground sharply, he strutted like a model on a runway. The setting was fitting, as there was in fact a red carpet on the floor, the exact color of freshly spilled squishy blood.
He didn’t wait for the guard at the sides of what was clearly a throne room to move, and directly slammed both parts of the door open, in true diva fashion.
“It is I, Starscream of Vos! Second in command and future leader of the Decepticons, gracing you with my presence !” he exclaimed, with a lot more confidence than what he truly felt.
In doubt, pretend everything is going to plan.
Even if there’s no plan. And you’ve been offlined.
In the throne, in front of him, sat a… relatively normal looking squishy humanoid ?
It had long curly hair, a very very symmetrical face, and fabric coverings so white they were blinding. Oh, and for some reason, wings like those of the flying pests Starscream and his seekers had to avoid mid-air if they didn’t want feathers in terrible places (or exploded turbines).
Starscream was pretty sure wings were not a normal human feature. He also didn’t care. At least the being was clearly in command of the place. It might have terrible decoration skills, but it seemed to be good at keeping its troops in line. Or to have them pretend to be obedient when a stranger was visiting (which was not something one could say about the Decepticons unfortunately).
“Ah. Starscream of Vos, welcome to my humble abode. I am Lucifer, Lord of this realm, and you, my dear, are dead.” greeted Lucifer. “Now, usually, when a sinner falls down to Hell, we have them sorted in one of our Layers, to be punished as long as necessary - potentially forever.”
“Charming… But I am different, aren’t I ? Or does every “Sinner” meet you, Lord Lucifer ?” said Starscream, with a somewhat forced smile.
“You sure are ! And not just because of your cunty behaviour and pathetic demeanor. No, your ambition, cruelty, and treacherousness all impressed me, I must say.”
“What did you say ?”
“I said that your prowess was very much notable.” lied the Devil. “That’s why I wish to offer you a job ! Instead of being the tortured, I am giving you the opportunity to be the torturer !”
“Delightful,” grimaced Starscream. “What would the job entail ?”
“Oh, tormenting the souls of the damned. I’m sure you’ll be entirely fine figuring out creative ways to go about it, though stepping on them would suffice for a while. Especially the souls that have been here for a few centuries,” explained Lucifer.
“Carnage has always been something I’ve been good at I suppose…” mused Starscream, not very happy to be under the rule of a new Leader, and already brainstorming ways to topple it from its throne.
“Since everyone here is dead, including you, people cannot die again, and injuries are only temporary - a definitive plus when it comes to eternal torment ! So, what do you say ? Are you willing to join the team ? You can keep your emblem, if you wish to.” said the Ruler of Hell.
Starscream thought about it for a little bit. He didn’t really have any better option, and of course he’d rather be on the side that is not getting tortured endlessly. So he accepted, ready to pretend to be a good little pawn (he was very used to doing so), while figuring out the best ways to stay on top of everyone and everything.
After the Decepticon left the room, demon closest to the throne asked the Devil ; “Why make him a demon, and not just torture him ?”
“Firstly, can you imagine the costs, time and hassle that it would be to make new tools to torture him that are sized properly, organise a work seminar to teach how to use them correctly, all for a single individual ?
And secondly, what better punishment for a former scientist dreaming of power than to be stuck once again as a rabid attack dog, for a boss he has no chance to ever overthrow? Only this time with no escape, and no comrades and friends around, alone, surrounded by a species he despises and is grossed by ?” answered Lucifer, ever so practical.
“My Lord, you truly are wise,” nodded the servant.
“I’m aware. Now bring the knife juggler here, I’m getting bored. Make sure he’s a beginner, and that the knives are on fire.” The Devil snapped his fingers impatiently, already putting the robot out of his mind.
—
Starscream was adapting to his new job nicely, he thought. Sure, it smelled bad, and the constant screams were getting annoying rather than fun, but he was free to kill humans without worries for once.
Before he…. Before, they had a rule about avoiding to kill too many squishies, because otherwise the Decepticon warriors were too distracted chasing them to properly collect Energon Cubes. The productivity had truly soared when the rule had been implemented, and the Autobots had also gotten less… aggressive. It meant less injuries, and a generally better state of the faction, so Starscream had been forced to also comply.
To tell the truth, once the shock factor of turning a human to paste a few times was gone, and that the reactions of horror from the Autobots had lessened, it had made things less fun. Sure, it was one less annoying insect, but they were so numerous on their planet that it made no difference.
This is to say that after more or less three Earth days of his new “job”, Starscream was getting bored. And dirty, there were no washracks fit for his size. That meant that he was sticky in many places he didn’t want to think about, scuffed to Hell (literally) from his Fall despite the lack of injuries. Forget about any kind of polish or wax, he was a mess.
And he had no way to procure cleaning products with his schedule full of tasks, without even mentioning the fact that he’d have to make all of the solvents, waxes, and also rig a place to get washed, with proper dispensers. And did he mention that he’d have to figure out where to find the raw materials because so far he’d only seen a few areas and most were barren, and boring ?
So maybe he was going a little crazy. What was new ?
Oh yeah, the fact that there was no Megatron to try to assassinate as a stress reliever.
Screw the new job, he needed to get out of here. Fast.
Screw trying to kill his new “Boss” too, his survival instincts were telling me how bad of an idea it was. And no one was as fun to toy with as Megatron was. Just picturing his stupid, boring grey face contorted in rage and agony was putting some spring back in his steps…
Anyways ! Enough daydreaming, he had to make a plan.
Careful inquiries of other demons revealed that the very few times someone could go to the surface was when they were summoned. Unfortunate, as no one would think about summoning him unprompted.
Skywarp would absolutely try a summoning ritual if someone was there to whisper the idea in his audial, but since Starscream was down there, he had no way to influence his dumbaft trinemate. Trinebonds did not work like that in the slightest, no matter what Autobot rumors said. It was NOT a direct comm into someone’s spark.
Also, Starscream truly did not want to go through the humiliation of having to explain the situation. No one could know HE was the one who had fallen for once.
Maybe he should try to focus his attention on his method of arrival instead ?
The jet had, quite literally, fallen down to Hell. Surely, that must have meant that there was a way to get back out if he went high enough !
He was so smart.
So he took a quick dip into a boiling river to try to reduce the ash and organic remains sticking to him as much as possible (not really successfully), since it was one of his mandated break times, he immediately started his new escape project by jumping off a cliff and transforming.
The flight upward was long, and arduous. There were multiple instances of long streams of flowing lava falling down from upper ledges, terribly stinky clouds of sulfur, black smoke…
Unfortunately, Starscream couldn’t remember how long his Fall had taken upon his arrival, so he was unable to tell how much longer it would take. More hazards kept springing up on his path, like random falling boulders and flocks of demonic geese. The ceiling - if it was indeed a big cavern - was not visible yet. Starscream could tell that this was an enclosed space though. Seekers could always tell that kind of thing. The airflow simply wasn’t right, and not just because of the multiple small active volcanoes below.
At one point, his wings started to cramp (which was absurd), seizing even. He had to land in a heap on one of the upper upper edges, a rock outcrop barely large enough to support him and let him stand. His wings felt… well he couldn’t really feel them, they were unresponsive. He was seeing multiple alerts on his HUD.
But at this point, he was too determined to see his escape through. Also, giving up meant having to get back down somehow, and he did not want to Fall disgracefully AGAIN.
Now, he could potentially have used his claws to make handholds, and climb up. But the wall was at an angle, and he had yet to see the top. Sighing, he took stock of his surroundings, which included rocks, more rocks, a bone or two, some scratches might have been made by a random squishy’s blunt digits, and one crudely carved inscription. It read, if barely legible : “JACK WAZ HERE”.
Starscream started squinting. There weren’t just scratches on the wall. There seemed to be… a hole ? Way too small for him for sure but, it did give him some new ideas.
As Decepticon’s philosophy put it ; "If the door is locked, go through the wall”. And "If the wall is too solid, try the ceiling and or the floor". Now it could be used metaphorically, but most soldiers used it in a literal way, Starscream included.
He had his null rays, and a few missiles, and even his claws if the other weapons weren’t enough. How thick could the cavern’s walls be anyways ?
The answer was : Very Thick.
It took him ages of blasting, and digging, and clawing, and blasting some more… He was even more filthy, scratched to literal hell, and while he would never ever admit it, he almost got envious of the grounders that were equipped with drills. Almost.
But no matter how slow, he could feel every inch of progress, could tell that every step (crawl) was putting him closer to freedom. First, the sulfur smell started to diminish, and the smoke stopped invading his space. The texture of the rock slowly changed, from volcanic, to harder regular earthen rock, and then it softened. He never thought he’d get relieved to see DIRT and yet there Starscream was. Covered in debris, and the occasional earthworm, spitting out gravel.
How long did it take ? He had no idea, as focused on the task as he was, his internal chronometer useless. It felt like an eternity, but it could just have been the boredom.
With a triumphant shout, his hand pierced the layer of grass, and met sweet sweet air.
Not unlike a zombie, he breached the surface.
Starscream recognised the area ; it was where he had been felled in battle. Some trees still were scorched from blaster fire, or knocked down after having a bot thrown onto them.
But the battlefield was deserted.
No bots anywhere, the battle could have been mere hours ago or one twelfth of the local sun revolution, he simply couldn’t tell.
After extirpating himself from his former tomb of organic decay, Starcream simply laid there, on the ground, feeling the breeze on his plating. He did have to shoo away a flying pest or two that had carelessly landed on him, but for a few moments things felt… peaceful.
No harsh noises of the damned, no thick smoke, just a slow brightening of the land thanks to the sunrise. The sky was clear, with almost no clouds. It was like time was suspended.
It didn’t last of course. At some point, the itch to fly got too strong, and he took off in the direction of the Nemesis.
Unfortunately, his comm suite was still not functioning, as it was glitched since he had Fallen into hell. With some luck one of their medics would be able to fix it, since it was pretty essential for his role as the Second in Command.
Speaking of which, he really hoped Megatron hadn’t replaced him, or else there’d be two murders to plan. His replacement’s, and Megatron’s, obviously.
Thankfully, the guards saw him approach, and raised the exit Spire for him. Being forced to wait for someone to open the door for him, as if he was Ravage when she was acting annoying on purpose and pretending she didn’t know how to operate handles, would have been humiliating. Fixing his comms was truly becoming a first priority.
Not even a few hours later, having his comm. suite restored, and clingy trine members pushed away, he was ready to face his beloved tyrant Megatron, whom he hadn’t missed at all.
“Are you sure you’re all fine ?” fussed Thundercracker like the worrywart he was. “You were gone for a week ! A full week, bond totally silent ! We thought you got offlined !”
“I didn’t ! I for one thought you’d decided to block us for one of your stupid schemes.” interjected Skywarp, who was nonetheless being more touchy than usual (a feat, he had no concept of personal space). Starcream had to shrug his arm off of his shoulders multiple times, and had to shake him off to stop him from draping all over his back at least twice. He was more sticky than tar. It was getting annoying.
It didn’t warm his spark in the slightest to see that his absence was noticed, and that his trinemates had worried about him. Not at all.
(He had let them assist him in the washracks. Purely for efficiency of course.)
“Shut it, I have to go report to the command center, and greet our esteemed leader. I don’t have the time to entertain your endless yapping.” said Starscream, in a marginally less unkind tone than usual.
He grabbed a blaster that was just lying around on his desk, and stuffed it in his subspace since his regular one was still malfunctioning. Thundercracker eyed the action warily, but he made no moves to stop him. Leaving the two in his quarters, he set off at a brisk pace.
The moment the doors of the command center opened, he saw that Megatron was discussing something with Soundwave, back conveniently turned away from Starscream. With no hesitation, he raised his blaster.
“Do me a favor, die for me.” said Starscream to Megatron, his voice full of contempt, while shooting him in the back.
To no one’s surprise, the assassination failed. It barely scorched the Decepticon Leader’s plating. In fact, it was so half heartedly done (Starscream had known for centuries that a regular blaster was an useless tool in his quest for power) that it left Megatron more baffled than angry.
“Why, Starscream, this almost tickled me.” he said, sounding confused, before he regained his ugly ugly smirk. “Did you miss me THAT much during your unsanctioned leave ? Or was your brain module fried by some Autobot’s shot ?”
“How DARE you ! My brain module is as perfect as the day I onlined !” huffed Starscream, rather than do the smart thing and back down, and maybe grovel a bit and also beg for forgiveness.
“Your helm is as empty as that day, you mean.” scoffed Megatron. “Now you better go back to your duties, unless you want your rank of Commander to go to someone else. I’ve been extremely lenient, Starscream, and you should stop tempting fate.” And that was it.
Things went back to usual after that. Training his seekers’ armada, raiding the squishies’ power plants, plotting his leader’s death…
You’d think nothing had happened, and he would have been able to “erase” the whole hell thing from his processor if not for one tiny tiny fact…
It happened again.
One moment, the fight was raging, he was being shot at in the general battle mayhem, and the next he was plummeting down AGAIN.
None of the subsequent visits to Hell lasted as long as the first time. Oh, he might stay an extra hour or so if he was feeling particularly frustrated, stepping on stray squishies until he felt calmer. But he’d always make his way back up to the surface.
Leaving a series of strange holes in the ground, that would baffle many humans stumbling on them.
As for Starscream, he made sure to start up a rumor of him having created some kind of invention. One that could whisk him away, or mask his presence (he left it vague intentionally) when faced with an attack that could have been deadly.
Not even his trinemates got the full truth.
He made sure to reassure them, and to let them know he was alive after each time it happened. Sometimes he was fast enough when digging his way back up (lots and lots of practice, and a smallish drill always stocked in his subspace) that he could rejoin a battle before it finished. It helped get Megatron off his back for his “cowardice”.
But he never told anyone of his little trips in Hell. Not just because no one would believe him. It was embarrassing !
No one could know he had been bested, especially not multiple times !
Everything was fine.
He was ALIVE and well.
(He was. There were no other options.)
His inability to die was just proof of his superiority, but no one could know. (Especially not Shockwave, or worse, Megatron.)
BONUS ;
“Man, I wish I could send sinners to alternate universe Hells…” sighed the Devil, pouting a bit. “I really want to see how that Starscream would fare in that Machine Hell, how long he’d last.”
“A Christian Machine Hell, my Lord ?” asked one of his attendants.
“Yes ! It is very entertaining to watch it through The Alternates Viewer ™. I’d love to see the Cybertronians ULTRAKILLED by that one little blue machine killing machine.” continued the Ruler of Hell ™. “But at least MY Hell has no blasted angels in them.” he finished, smugly.