Robots Plus Your Backyard | Transformers

4 | Red Visors

A/N; Not Proof Read, Apologies. But, I would like to say thank you to those that have veiwed, voted, and added my story to their libraries! Thank you, so very much! :D
12/13/18

-

Casey

Red visors.

Bright red.

Taking a short breath and exhaling shakily. Holding onto the steering wheel tightly like my life depended on it. Well, in this situation, it did. Because, the huge ass robotic organism pulled the fricking truck door off. Hearing the creak of metal, then the sound of scraping when the door slid across the pavement, ringing was all I heard for awhile.

Warm metal wrapped around my torso firmly. Pulling me out of my seat, I grip on to the steering wheel tightly. I tried to reach for dad eagerly not wanting to leave the safety of the truck.

Gasping, the robot squeezed my torso suddenly, as my lungs emptied whatever oxygen was left. Caught off guard by the action, my grip loosened as the robot pulled me up to their eye level.

Feeling dizzy for that moment. They examined me, as if they were looking for something. During that time dad was trying to get free from the truck.

He kicked the door, sprinting out trying to catch his breath,
"Put my kid down now!"

The robot simply gave dad a glance, then focused on me again. It was unsettling.

"Let go! You Goddamn Overgrown Rogue Remote!" Attempting to pull myself out from the robots grasp, I groan angrily. And that went out one metal ear, out the other, for the metal giant. Great. Slouching and panting, strangely out of breath, I glare up at its visors.

After hearing dad yell at the robot for a whole minute to put me down. Breaklight, emerged from the totaled truck. The robot looked down at him, putting his left free hand out, coaxing the Minicon.

Breaklight, hesitantly stepped on his index. He was so small, only about three apples tall. I felt scared for the Minicon, who seemed so vulnerable. He looked down frightened by the huge robot.

The robot spoke,
"Breaklight." So he speaks.

The robot seemed to be angry, hurt- wait, sad. Breaklight refused to look up at the robots visors.

"They're gone."

Breaklight perked up shocked and confused,
"How? You mean. . ."

Breaklight glanced at me, as if he was pleading for help. Understanding his message, I try to wriggle free of the firm grip around my body.

The robot seemed to have been caught off guard, and by instinct squeezed my body. Air left my lungs suddenly, having me wheeze and cough afterwards. Dad furious, he seemed tired of feeling belittled and ignored.

He ran back to the truck, moving the back seat down, taking out a square box that was wrapped in his brown carhartt jacket.

A pistol.

Oh no.

Before I could say anything, Dad already loaded it up and shot at the robots visors. Tink!

The robots head shifted back slightly due to the impact of the small bullet. Dad, no, you just made him pissed off. And, indeed he was, dropping me, about two stories high, I scream.

My stomach had a sinking feel, before I hit the ground. I think my head is bleeding, my nose definitely is bleed. The breath was knocked out of me again, laying on the pavement, I choked on air trying to breathe normally. Gasping greedily, I inhale and exhale aggressively.