Bad Things Happen Bingo: Hitter (V)

Count: ~571
Chara(s): A Hitter (OC)
Pairing(s): N/A
Fandom: Org Fic – Fae Apoc xover
Prompt: Communication Cut Off

This continues a series of stories taking place in my universe, Fae Apoc, at the time just before the aforementioned apoc.  Portals are opening up to one other world at that time, and in this story, well, they happen to open up into a whole BUNCH of worlds. 

And from those worlds, a bunch of poor soon-to-be-victims-of-bad-things who bear some resemblances to fandom characters happen to slip through some portals.  And then bad things happen to them, because that, after all, is the name of the Bingo.

Content warnings for the series: violence, death, bondage, capture, drugging, visions. For this story: violence, wounds 


“All right.  So we’ve got him right where we want him.  He’s going to freak out just about now, yes, you’re a genius, yes I am, and there he goes running for the warehouse.  You got him, my man?”

“Got him.”  The hitter was perched on top of a stack of crates.  He had a long slash on his left side that he was ignoring – his t-shirt was acting as a bandage and it wasn’t that deep, not enough to slow him down – and a bruise that was threatening to close one eye shut.  but this fucker? Yeah, he could take him down without thinking twice.

“All right, and here he comes.  He’ll be on you in three, two-”

“The fuck?”  The man came running.  The far end of the warehouse was lit up in bright blue-and-white light.  “Damnit, Kalloman, if this is one of your-”

“I’ve got nothing.  I’ve got no sensors there, I’ve got nothing.  I swear, Connor, this is not me. He’s almost to-”

The connection cut off with a screech.  Connor dove for the target, caught him, snarled in his year.  The point was to terrify him, not to actually hurt him. Connor could do that.  He could do that in his sleep.

Except the screeching in his ear was throwing him off and the asshole grabbed him and threw him towards the wall.  Connor braced for the impact.

He wasn’t expecting to fall right through.

He landed hard on his side, what he figured was twenty feet down from where he’d gone through, and rolled to his feet.  There were three people pointing spears at him. Spears.  “Kalloman?  You there?” He subvocalized, but he didn’t think it mattered.  

He got nothing back but a dull static.

Then the first person with a spear came in at him.

Taking out the first one was easy.  “Kalloman? Damnit.  I need to know what happened.  Come in, damn you, come in?”

He took out the second one with a punch that he really wanted to aim at this damn “flawless” communication system.  He could see the blue portal out of the corner of his eye. It was up the cliff, twenty feet, of course, but that was nothing.

He grabbed the third attacker’s arm, bounced off of their spear – spears! – and headed up towards the wall. “Damnit.  Come in?” He wasn’t there. That meant that they – they didn’t have anyone backing them up.  “DAMNIT!”  He got one hand into the portal and started to pull himself in.

“Now this one is interesting.”  The voice came from down below. It was followed by a string of something that was at least not English.

Connor spared a fraction of his attention to the chanting while the rest of him was trying to climb into something with handholds that moved like cold molasses.  “Kalloman? Cender? Eliza?  Can anyone hear me?”

His muscles locked up and, for the second time that day, Connor fell to the ground.

A man in too nice of clothing stood over him.  He was talking, but Connor wasn’t paying attention.  He’d heard something in his ear. Just a couple words between the static – “-put.  Re- …for …. Stay… coming… Put… you.”

That was easy enough to figure out.  Stay put.  We’re coming for you.

He had to be ready for them when they got here.  He had to protect them.

He put his hands over his head and waited.

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