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The Connected

Joined
Jul 2, 2019
Location
Colorado
This isn’t a smut based story, but I figured if people wanted a sample of how I tend to write, this could be one. It’s just a kind of side story I’ve been working on from time to time that I call “The Connected.” Anyway, let me know what you think! See you guys soon!

**Part One**

Too often, the darkness inside consumes not just the bearer of the demons, but those around them.

Silence filled the streets around the small, unassuming bar in the heart of the city. Silence, save for the rain gently pattering to the ground around the special ops team. They were a special classification, sent when someone was found whose mind was a bit too in tune with the other universes.
Or, more specifically, too in tune with the darker ones. A low voice came over Fuller's ear com. "We sure this is the girl?"

Fuller kept his eye to the scope on his rifle, watching their target through a small field of magnification. She was young, from her profile. She had a black hoodie pulled up over her head. She was staring down at her arm sullenly, a black and purple-lined sleeve covering her arm up to the palm of her hand. She barely moved, but to wipe at her eyes - it was evident from the way her body shook on occasion that she was crying. She sat at the bar with an untouched sangria sweating in a glass in front of her. His heart went out to her, but there was nothing to be done. She was one of the most dangerous types. One that wrestled with her immaterial demons.


"Don't underestimate her, Tiana. She's a conduit to one of the bad ones. She'll react, and her demons will protect her link to us. Violently. With deadly consequences."


Fuller was silent a moment, readjusting his aim. "We got only one shot at this. She's wiped out entire platoons of men trying to suppress her. Nobody move in until I give the order." Fuller pulled the loading mechanism back. *If there's any merciful gods out there, let this be enough.* The dart in his weapon - high grade anesthesia and tranquilizer - was the most potent one they had in their arsenal that wouldn't kill the subject. Much as the poor thing probably wished for it. Fuller's finger began to apply pressure to the trigger -


When another body suddenly filled his view, standing perfectly in front of her. He lifted his eyes from the scope, staring toward the bar. "Who the fuck is that? Tiana, this area was supposed to be quarantined!"


"It is sir." Her voice was filled with panic. For his wrath or the possible failure of this mission, he couldn't tell. "Who let him in?” Ti was clearly talking to someone else near her. “I don't care, go divert him! Now! We'll have it under control soon, sir."

"God damn it, if that man ruins all of this it will be more than your position you'll have to worry about, Sergeant!" His voice seemed all the darker for his whispering. He very nearly slammed his fist on the lip of the roof he was crouched on. Fuller stood and quietly moved to the side, hoping to get a bead on the girl from an angle, but the man moved with him, sliding sideways. No one knew they were here. He couldn't possibly have known Fuller would move. The girl had leaned back, rubbing her eyes under the hood. He saw her head turn imperceptibly toward his exact location.

"Forget it. Move in! I repeat, move in! And for god sake, DO NOT AGGRAVATE THE GIRL! TIANA!"

"Sir!"

"Find out who in the seven hells that is! I want his entire family tree by the time this is over!"

Movement of his troops burst from all corners of the street to the east and west, concentrating on the little hole-in-the-wall bar with a flickering sign above its doorway with letters that flashed on and off. On and off.

-DIVIDED BY ZERO-

**Part Two**


Fuller didn't care about silence anymore. Whoever that man was had ruined that option. And he was going to have Fuller's boot pressed a bit too firmly to his throat, if he had anything to do with it.
He jumped the lip of the building, landing with a clang on the small fire escape. With no preamble, he jumped on the ladder and kicked the release with his foot, dropping with a stomach turning screech. The ladder slammed into the ground, sending Fuller rolling along his side to spring up at a run to the side of the building. His men had the bar surrounded, their weapons drawn and aimed at the glass.

"Weapons down!" Fuller nearly screamed. When they complied too slowly, he grabbed the weapon of the nearest man and slammed the stock into his nose, breaking it and spilling blood down the front of the black vest.


His men moved aside, saying nothing as he threw the weapon forcefully into the downed soldier before walking forward. He unattached his firearm from its holster, pulling it out with two fingers and holding it to the side. His eyes were locked on the man and the girl inside the glass window of the bar. Raising his other hand to show it was empty he bent down, never losing eye contact, dropped the gun. With a kick he sent the weapon spinning toward the bar and raised his voice to a shout.


The rain had started in earnest, drumming at his head. "I just want to talk. No weapons." Waving his free hand up and down, his men dropped their rifles to their sides, backing up a step. "We both know this won't end well if you resist." No doubt for us, the thought was bitter, but true.


"We just want to help her. The demons plaguing her are a danger to herself, and the rest of the world. We can help weaken their presence. Maybe even rid her of them. But she has to come with us."

He saw the girl peek out from behind the man, saw her look up at him with a small amount of hope in her eyes. She's a good kid. Part of him wanted them to run. He almost regretted if he did have to take her in.

The unknown man looked down at the girl, shaking his head left to right before he started for the door. He didn't open it, just stood before it silently, the girl staying where she was. He could see the look in his eyes as the man traced them slowly over his gathered men; he was sizing them up. Then he looked askance at the girl. And Fuller knew what he was going to do. His heart skipped a beat.

Which was a beat too long.

The man moved like a serpent, reaching his hand into the pocket of his coat and throwing the door open. The last sound of normalcy Fuller heard was the tiniest jingle of the bell over the door frame before everything seemed to play out in slow motion.


One of his men, trained for tells of a possible attack, lifted his gun to stare down the sights. Fuller's command not to respond came a heartbeat too late. It was a ruse, he knew; the man had no weapon. Not a physical one. His best weapon was the unstable girl, no more than a child to his mind. And he's used it effectively.


The girl, terrified for her perceived defender, her eyes in panic, snapped her head back. When it fell back to stare at them through the glass, her eyes had turned blood red. The bright wrappings around her forearms seethed, undulated like a thousand serpents thrashing about under her skin. When she opened her mouth, an inhuman wail was emitted, shattering the glass of every building on the street in a wave.


She brought her arms behind her back at an unnatural angle, an angle that should have snapped bone in multiple places. A darkness deeper than the pits of black solidified around her, the edges clearly defined like the heads of dragons - coiling, interlocking, enraged for blood.


The moment her arms snapped forward, that darkness lanced out. The shadows parted from her body, ethereal snakes from the bowels of hell. They didn't stop, either. More darkness rose. More darkness followed the girls arms, like black arrows. The screams of lost souls filled the air, reverberated in his bones.


All Fuller could see was one of his men, one of those demonic arrows piercing his chest. Blood frothing and spraying as the creature worked its way in, its ephemeral tail slashing real blood all over the scene.

One of them headed straight for him. He held up his arms in a warding cross, but the creature never reached him. A blinding light sprouted just in front of him, obscuring his vision. Windchime, his own fae attachment to one of the other realms. The sound was muted by gentle bells tingling against each other in his ears. The soothing rush of water against the beach. She protected him in more than just physical aspects.

But he couldn't help thinking to himself, as he closed his eyes and heard soothing noises in the middle of a nightmare - What the hell have we awoken?


**Part Three**


Each of us has our own personal demons. Whether you channel them into something beneficial, or let them consume you - that is a conscious decision we all have to make.

The screams had barely faded as the stranger pushed June out the rear door, not even glancing back at all the horrible things that had occurred. She was too drained, too stunned, and most of all too sick to her stomach to argue. She fought the urge to vomit the entire time she was herded down the stinking and rotting back alley, justifying her actions with the belief that those men - whoever they were - would have killed her. She hugged her arms about herself, nonetheless.

Suddenly, the man with her swirled around her, using one arm to move her behind him in a protective stance. She didn’t say anything, afraid if she opened her mouth it would allow all of herself to flood out and she would break down. It was an odd noise she made, in the midst of running away from block wide destruction. There amidst the pouring rain, the refuse, and the blood she knew was all around, she sneezed and wiped her nose on the back of her sleeve.


She saw what made her tarnished savior turn so swiftly around the edges of his coat: a little purple and brown fairy, bobbing angrily back and forth, speaking in a language she didn’t understand. It sounded like something out of a fairy tale; it sounded beautiful. It absolutely sounded like it didn’t belong here, nor did it match quite right with the obvious ire the fae was portraying.


What was more surprising, however, was the man with her responding in the very same language. She tugged demurely on his sleeve, earning a glance back at her with a raised eyebrow. “What’s it saying?”


He looked back at the fairy; after a moment, the fairy nodded, and he began translating. “She says we nearly killed her Connected. She’s offering that we give ourselves up before she takes matters of revenge into her own hands. I informed her of you and where we’re going, and she’s agreed to allow us to part.”


What’s a Connected? She didn’t verbalize that - better to ask that when they were safely away. Instead: “Why would she do that?”


“Because I’m taking you to her home, Faerune. The central home of her people. Or, what used to be home, until they were forced to Connect. I’ll explain it later. For now, it’s enough of a hope that she’s willing to look the other way in return for my name.”

“Your name?”

“My Connected name. If you know it, you can get a location of that Connected any time you speak it.”


June didn’t understand much of this, but she did understand enough to say, “That sucks.”


The man quirked a smile at that. “Indeed it does. But it’s the only way she’ll let us go. Serenity here is a dual-type. Offensive as Serenity, Defensive as Windchime. Bit of advice, June? Don’t ever fuck with a dual-type.” Then he said something in the fae’s language that sounded like a name. Serenity repeated it, and after a moment nodded her head and beckoned them both leave. Before the fairy flirted off into the sky, up and over the building, June saw her colors change to a light blue and a golden yellow.


She had no time to think about it before the man started tugging her away again. This time, she yanked her arm back violently, breaking his grip. “If you’re taking me somewhere - not that it matters, as I have no place to go - but if you are, you can at least tell me your name. You told the god damn fairy, and I’m a bit tired of thinking of you as ‘this guy.’” She crossed her arms under her chest with a huff. She still felt woozy, but there was just too much emotional stimulation to allow herself to focus on that. Better to use her confusion as a weapon.


“Fair enough. You can call me Senza.” He held out his hand, gesturing behind him with the other. June leaned to the side, to see what he was pointing at even as she calmly placed her hand in his. He stepped aside to give her a better view. Not far from them, on the ground, was a glowing red circle. Standing in the middle of it was a little mouse, up on its hind legs. Its eyes glowed red, little circles of it, matching the ring it stood in. “And that is my Connected, Carbon. Carbon lets us move easily between realities and universes, even locations. I’m a classification known as a Jumper. Now, if you’ll come with me, you’ll see why.”


He stepped into the circle, still holding her hand; she put her foot into it more slowly, afraid of what she’d feel, but it was just solid ground. She stepped in closer, then stiffened when he put his arms around her and whispered in her ear, “Don’t be ashamed if you throw up after the shift.”


Fantastic. And here she’s managed to keep from vomiting this whole time. At least now she had an excuse.


Fuller came to on the ground outside the Divided by Zero bar, his vision blurry. At least he was alive. Windchime danced over his field of vision, trying to wake him. He reached up his hand, pushing his fae aside. He could see copious amounts of blood all over his fingers; his, or someone else’s? His team was assuredly all wiped out. He wasn’t even sure they’d be able to find all their pieces or identify what was left of their bodies.

Sitting up slowly with the support of one shaky arm, a pillar of red lift caught his eye - he looked in its direction and frowned even deeper, if that were possible. A Jumper. Without needing to be able to hear anything Windchime was saying, he knew what it was.


They had escaped.


Fuller coughed blood, and leaned over to evacuate the contents of his stomach to mix with the blood and gore already beneath him. Then he passed out once more, but not before the final thought slipped into his mind.


They won’t get away for long.
 
*Part Four*

Darkness in one's own story is a driving theme. Without turmoil, without hardships, your story would not exist. If such a story were told, nobody would listen or remember. Revel in it, for hardships are what make your story unique.

Fuller woke in a darkened room with a start. A little monitor next to the bed he was laying in started beeping loudly. It was honestly annoying. He made to hit the silence button on it, but found his hand cuffed to the side of the bed. He jerked on the chain with all his might, straining the plastic of the bed to no avail. “Hey!” He shouted at the door, jerking his wrist against the cuff again. “What the fuck?”

Windchime sprouted before him in a burst of glitter, her wings fluttering as she came to sit on the bed edge with a delicate flair, crossing her legs and leaning on her hands. Calm down, Nathan. A sweetly melodic voice entered his head, one he was familiar with. His muscles relaxed moderately as he looked at his connected. I told them to do it because I knew you’d react how you normally do.

Fuller glared at her. “How is that?”

Um, maybe by getting ready to break a machine and scream obscenities at the help? Fuller frowned, unclenching his fists after a moment. Better. Besides, the key is on the nightstand, you oaf. Windchime flittered up into the air, landing on the nightstand indicated and walking across, kicking the key toward him lightly.

As he was unlocking his cuffs, a nurse came in, turning on the light at its lowest setting. She let Fuller’s eyes adjust before sliding it all the way and walking over to his bedside. “Good morning, sir. Do you remember your name?” Her eyes looked at him turning the key in his cuff, but she didn’t do anything about it.

“Nathan Fuller. Commander of Special Ops for Unidentified Connected Sources.”

“I didn’t ask for your assignment.”

“I gave it to you anyway.” Fuller swung his legs over the side of the bed, lifting a hand to massage his temples.

“Mmhm.” The nurse made a notation on her clipboard, turning and tending to the heart monitor, looking at readouts and different machinery. “Do you remember what happened, Nathan?”

He stopped rubbing his head, though his hand didn’t drop. Flashbacks of last night played through his memory. Blood spraying everywhere. Screams he couldn’t hear. Gun shots; men trying to shoot insubstantial snakes – tearing through friendly chests, instead. All with the sound of tingling bells and waves crashing gently against sand playing in his head over the massacre. He opened his eyes, not directing them at her. “Can I get some water?”

“I have to –“

“Yes, dammit.”

The nurse was silent for a while, then took out a pen light, coming back to him. “Follow the light with your eyes, please.”

Fuller thought for a minute about taking that light and ramming it down her throat. Windchime cleared her throat at his bedside. He decided not to do it, following the light as it moved sideways across his vision. Satisfied, the nurse put the light back in her pocket, marking a few more things down. She adjusted something on his IV, then headed for the door, talking to him without looking in the typical indifferent fashion of hospital employees. “We’ll get that water to you as soon as possible, Mr. Fuller.”

Before he could say anything, she left the room with a soft click of the door. Fuller sat for a long time – or what seemed like a long time, to him – on the side of the bed. “Tiana?” He finally asked his fae connection.

Dead. Whole team, in fact. Windchime’s colors had changed suddenly. This was Serenity. Deader than dead. Chunks of body parts were everywhere. It was like a gory Pollock painting. Kind of pretty, if you’re in to that kind of thing.

Fuller didn’t even look at her when he snapped his hand out and grabbed her around the body, her wings crushed backward by his fingers. She stopped talking, though, and that was all he really was going for. “All for nothing.” Fuller’s body trembled, like he were on the verge of crying, but not a single tear slid down his cheek. “They’re all dead, because of my negligence, and still they got away.”

They’re going to disbar you for this. Windchime was back. Unfortunately for him, she didn’t need her lips or air to speak to him. Just a thought. What are you going to do?

“I don’t know.” He slowly let her go, releasing her from his firm grasp. She flittered up, landing on his shoulder and leaning on his ear. “I can’t let them go.”

I wouldn’t think you would.

“But I don’t have any way to track them. He’s a Jumper. Where do you even start with that?”

I suppose you don’t.

Fuller lifted his head slightly from looking at the ground, his eyes narrowing imperceptibly. He knew Windchime. They had been Connected since he was very young. She would have told him in no uncertain words that he wouldn’t be able to find them. Finding a Jumper was a near impossible task – not only could they jump locations, they could jump universes. For all he knew, the girl and her savior were planets away and fourteen universes sideways. But Windchime hadn’t said he had no hope. She’d said ‘suppose.’ She knew something. Something she was keeping from him.

And he intended to find out what.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~​

The sensation was the most disturbing and soul wrenching thing she had ever felt. Soul, body, mind – it wrenched everything that defined her, folded it in on itself, then threw it all like a blob of discarded butter.

No sooner had it started than did it end. She crumpled, her body thrown sideways and forward, back and up, down. Strong arms supported her as her body jerked. The world was spinning for her, but she made out a red circle glowing about her feet, helping everything come back into focus. A mouse – Carbon, was it? – scampered up a leg next to her that was not hers. Senza.

He gently let her get to her knees on the ground, holding her hair back. She wondered why for a moment, but only for a moment. Then her stomach came back from the ripping, and she understood why her hair was being held back. All sensation returned with a snap, multiplied, and her the contents of her stomach found the ground in front of her.

“There we go.” She heard him speak behind her as she finished, using her purple and black sleeve to wipe her mouth of bile. “Get your bearings first, before you try to get up.” Senza sat down nearby; she heard the crunch of leaves as he moved a slight distance, saw his feet turn. Finally, after a time, her eyes started to focus and she looked up.

What she saw made her sit back, her legs underneath her. She shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself. Everything – everything down to the smallest cell – was coated in black. A black mist surrounded and peeled away from the objects, pulled at their atoms, slowly eroded them from existence. The crunching she had heard from Senza’s boots was not leaves, but black, brittle rocks that had shattered at his weight. They, too, emitted a soft black vapor, dispersing with the wind. The clouds above were dark, ominous. She was certain that if it were possible, the sunshine streaming down through the black leaves would be black as well.

All around her was dead foliage. What used to be flowers, now crystallized; the only splash of color inside a vague casing of black, barely discernable, but holding on. “What is this place?” June whispered, her skin crawling.

“Calm down, or you’ll summon them again, June.” Senza held out a slice of orange to her, its color all the brighter for its surroundings. She looked at it, shaking her head. Senza shrugged and popped it in his mouth, idly scratching at Carbon’s head, who sat on his lap, staring at her. It was disconcerting. “This is Faerune. Or what used to be Faerune.” He looked around, his eyes lighting on everything like he had seen it a million times. She supposed he probably had. “It used to be a beautiful place, June. Most beautiful and pleasing to the eye place you’d ever see. Bright colors everywhere, laughter, music. I loved coming here, back before all this.

Windchime is from here. The fairy I gave my name to?” June nodded that she remembered, listening as she tried to find something even remotely close to what he was describing. “That was before the Void came.”

“The – Void?”

Senza gestured around them, at all the darkness. “The Void. We’re none of us sure where it started, or where it came from. Why it’s even doing this, or how. But we know it is. That we have evidence of. This Void is the reason the other beings need to Connect with humans. For some reason, the Void leaves Earth alone in just about every universe I’ve been to.” June looked at him questioningly, her heart going out to the creatures whose planets were being consumed. Senza swallowed, wiping his hands on his pants. “Perhaps we’re the ones causing it. No one is sure. But the fae, the dragons, the sprites and the centaurs. No creature can live in this, no creature can breath the darkness and survive. Many have tried eating the crystallized food.” He stood up finally, offering her his hand once again.

“They died. In case you were wondering.” He continued as he helped her up, starting down the darkened path.

June stumbled along behind him, her hands rubbing her arms. Not out of cold; it was a nice, spring time warmth here. But her heart felt cold. “Why are you showing me this?” She whispered, focusing on his back instead of what was around her.

“My father had your curse.” June stopped; Senza did as well, hearing her feet stop. He didn’t turn around. “I’m not entirely sure it’s a curse. But he let it consume him. Eventually, it ripped him apart.” He turned his head to the sky, looking up at the horrible sky. “My mother. The house. I lost everything because of it, a long time ago. To be honest, I’m not even sure showing you this is going to achieve anything.” He finally looked back down, starting to walk again. “But I won’t let it consume anyone ever again.”

June followed again at those words. They were reassuring, and she didn’t know why, but his story – as short and undetailed as it was – was enough for her to think she could trust him. For now, she would listen. Maybe he knew something about it. The monsters that walked with her were always whispering in her ears. Whispers of death, that she wasn’t worth it, that she just needed to let go to let it end. She didn’t know what it was, but perhaps the two of them could figure it out together.

He doesn’t care about you. A hiss went through her mind. Why should he? He’s just using you for what little worth you are. Then he’ll discard you. Trassssssh. Only we know you. Only we can help. Let ussss free.

A tear formed at the corner of her eye, trickling down her cheek. Senza had seen it before. There was still hope. And any hope was better than what she lived with now.
 
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