Title: When the Past and the Present Collide
Summary: What happens when the past and the present collide? His eyes shut, and Achilles, son of Peleus opens them once again, expecting death instead of those haunting green-blue eyes of an obviously foregin girl from the west.
Rating: Lots of gore, blood, killing and mature scenes so if you can't handle it, go elsewhere.
He glared up at the rising sun, his blood spilt into the gravelly sand and into his wound, the single wound on his heel. The one place he was the most vulnerable, it by chance, they managed to get it and now, because of his over confidence and lack of care, he would die and not move onto the afterlife and his body would be eaten by the scavengers.
Achilles sighed, but, even though the prospect of death chilled him to the bone, he couldn't help but feel glad that he had managed to avenge Padroklos, his younger cousin.
It was thoughts of his younger cousin that caused Achilles to "die" with a smile on his handsome face.
It barely felt like a second when he felt it, the disorientation as someone shook him. He could barely tell up from down, from left to right and he didn't even know who was touching him.
Something cool and wet touched his cracked and parched lips, and he greedily swallowed. Slender arms helped him sit upright and a voice, soft and gentle like chiming bells meet his ears in a soothing caress.
Achilles tried to remember, to remember where he was...
His eyes shot open and he sprang up, ignoring the blinding pain on the heel of his foot and, with a graceful swing, turned the sword to the one who had been holding him.
A mixture of green and blue met his gaze, slender lashes outlined the innocent eyes looking up at him, or they would have been, if they didn't have that battle hardened look to them, this was a young woman with experience, who had seen war or death at it's worst.
Achilles lowered his sword.
She was pretty, and young, a girl at the most. She was obviously foreign with her chalky white, almost ghostly skin, small, pale pink lips and honey coloured hair. And her eyes, those haunting eyes continued to watch his sword as she slowly stood.
The girl barely met his shoulder, and she lifted her pale face, a confident expression remained on her face and after a moment, her eyes drifted to the sword again.
She wore the strangest clothes, but he wasn't about to complain at the sight of those young curves. She wore an odd skirt that hugged her slender legs individually, the upper part of her dress was separate, like a tunic yet at the same time, far from it. The tunic was an olive green and had long sleeves that reached her wrists, her hair was tied back, high atop her head and her fingernails were torn and small, yet they had obviously been growing.
Achilles stopped marvelling over her odd choice of sandals when she spoke in an authorative yet soft voice that seemed to somehow carry out through the surrounding area.
"Who are you? And why are you wearing such strange clothes?"
Achilles snorted, as if she was one to talk. However, he didn't like the authoritive tone of voice she used, as if she, a mere girl, was in charge. It drove the seeds of amusement and slight anger into his heart.
"I am Achilles, son of Peleus."
The girl snorted. "Yes, and my mother is a donkey. Achilles is dead, now stop being a drama queen and tell me who you are."
His hand was around the girl's throat in less than a second.
"How dare you speak down to me, girl!"
Her haunting eyes glared up at him in mild fear before her hand shot out and she punched him square in the nose, he let her go in shock as he staggered back. It hadn't hurt, it hadn't even broken his nose, but the shock had been enough to make him let her go and take a step back.
He had never seen a woman so daring, no, he had never seen a girl so daring for years.
The faint sound of pain-filled groans filled the air and the girl stiffened, her head whipped to the right and he followed her gaze. His eyes widened as he stared out over the masses of men, women and children. Their skin was grey, as if dead, their eyes stared down in hunger and their bodies waddled forward, the stench of rotten eggs filled the air and the ground trembled as they ran towards him and the girl.
"The infected..." the girl murmured and he turned to her, it was now he finally noticed the long staff attached to her back. "There's no end to them, RUN!"
He stared at her and grabbed her forearm as she turned to leave. "They can't kill me girl, I will not run."
"It doesn't matter if they kill you or not, if they bite you then you'll become like them, a monster! If you value your humanity, run!" She shook his hold off of her and she ran deeper into the strange, half destroyed buildings.
Achilles hesitated and he ran after the girl, easily catching up with her, as they rounded the corner he couldn't help but stare. There were fires everywhere and only a few half sunken boats around the area. More of those "infected" swarmed the area.
There was a loud bang and a wall of them fell. A large man with sun kissed skin and short dark hair held onto a strange black weapon, by the look of it, and again he pointed it at the drove of the infected and they fell. "Grace!" The man called. "Is that guy a friend of yours?"
"Just put the damn plank out Virgil!" The man shook his head and moved further back into the strange white boat and Achilles followed the girl, Grace, he reminded himself, towards the boat.
Virgil pushed the plank onto the stone shore and, before any of the infected could charge onto the boat. A lean boy with midnight hair swung a long, elegant sword and cut the droves so he and Grace could get aboard.
Achilles helped Virgil pull the board back and the lean boy pulled along a set of ropes which slowly, but surely, pulled away from the stone shore and with the help of Virgil and himself, the boat was soon in the middle of the river.
It was once the boat was in the middle that Virgil and the boy turned to Achilles and looked him over suspiciously.
"Who are you?" The boy asked as Virgil called for someone named "Bella", most likely a healer of sorts.
"Relax," Grace interrupted despite the glare the boy gave her, but afterwards her haunting eyes avoided his piercing bright blue ones. "He saved our lives and he was injured, not by the Infected but by an arrow by the strangest of things."
"An arrow?" The boy questioned, and his eyes narrowed when Grace nodded and as Achilles stepped forward to hide the pretty girl behind him, the boy glared up at Achilles as if he wasn't armed to the tooth. "Who the fuck are you?"
"Ronan!" Grace hissed and tried to move in front of Achilles, who merely held her back with a single arm without trouble. "Use some manners for once!"
"Bite me!" He snapped before storming off.
Achilles was tempted to chop off the boy's head for disrespecting himself... and Grace.
"Excuse him sir, he's had a harsh life... we all have."
Before Achilles could ask, an even smaller girl with blood red hair and jewel-like eyes ordered him to sit down so she could tend to his ankle. He decided to do as he was told, Grace remained, and her haunting eyes were distant as she looked out towards the Infected.
Her eyes held grief, yet no tears were shed.
Achilles was once more tempted to chop off Ronan's head.
Night had arrived and it was Grace's turn to keep watch. The boat was barely large enough for the original five of them, and adding the stranger who had at one minute tried to strangle her and the next saved her, was just complicating matters.
Part of her was ready to believe him to be the Legendry Achilles, he wore the exact kind of armour that would have been around in those days, he was tall and god-like in appearance with his light brown hair and dark eyes and sun kissed skin and such gorgeous body...
Virgil had to share what little of his clothes he had with the stranger so that the boat wouldn't sink from the weight of them all and the stranger's armour. Ronan, once he had felt a little better after some rat-packs (in which they had explained to the stranger that she had once set fire to them, to her embarrassment, despite the fact he didn't laugh) asked about the stranger's sword who gave vague answers, saying that his kinsmen were the ones who ordered it to be made.
Achilles all but ignored Bella who returned the favour and he seemed to glare at Marty for even breathing; otherwise he interacted mostly with Virgil and Ronan.
However, Grace couldn't help but notice how when she moved around his dark eyes would follow her. She had to often turn her face to hide her modest blush, it wasn't often she was given such obvious attention and, unlike Marty's near-obsession (or as she felt it to be) he kept his distance to allow her to be comfortable.
Grace sighed and swung her legs back and forth as she stared into the darkness of the dirty river waters, she'd need to scout around the whole boat again to check for any Infected again, they would often fall in and float to the surface after a few hours.
She shivered as the nightly winter winds hit her and she rubbed her upper arms to keep her warm, only to jump in surprise and shock as something hit her shoulders. She stared down in curiosity at the thick sleeping bag draped over her shoulders and, slowly, she turned to look behind her only to see a blank faced Achilles looking down at her. Virgil's large shirt fluttered around him as the wind blew.
"Thank you," Grace murmured and pulled it around her completely and she once again looked out and into the dirty waters. "You should sleep whilst you can, it'll be tiring tomorrow."
"I don't need rest," he replied shortly before standing next to her and noticed her cheeks turning even pinker, much to his amusement. "Do you know what happened to me... how I came to be here?"
Grace looked up at him, she knew that in his time, women were looked down upon, seen as possessions, objects and had no rights, yet, other than being overly arrogant, he had yet to show any sign of these behaviours. Maybe she was naive, but she felt like she could trust him...
"I heard the sounds of battle, so I decided to look out of curiosity, but when I arrived... I saw you alone on the floor, for a moment you glowed like the sun, but then, it disappeared. That was it."
That wasn't all, Grace could have sworn she heard someone whispering in her ear at the time to help him and he would be everything she needed for protection and more, but when she had turned around, there had been no-one there, just the cold, crumbled buildings in the city of Bristol, deep in dreary old England.
Whether Achilles could tell in the darkness at her lie, she wasn't sure.
Minutes later, she toured around the boat to check for any floating bodies and even used a large wooden pole to feel any out, but she found nothing. Achilles, Grace decided to call him, was still in the same spot as she had left him in before her little tour around the boat.
The shadows brought out his high cheek bones and his muscles which were bulging through the black long sleeved shirt he was wearing, or as she called it, blouse.
"It's Ronan's turn to keep watch, are you going to stay out here or come inside?" Achilles didn't waste his breath with an answer and strode inside, Grace blinked and then sighed. "I'll take that as a yes."
Grace climbed below the deck and journeyed to the room Ronan was currently using alone, for the time being Achilles, she and Ronan were to share the room whilst Bella, Marty and Virgil shared another.
Grace grabbed a "Relentless" can, icy to the touch, and pressed it against Ronan's head to wake the heavy sleeper up. Ronan jerked awake, his bright blue eyes stared into her for a moment and she was sure her breath caught in her throat at the sight of his eyes, however, she moved back as his eyes turned dark with irritation.
"What?!" Ronan snapped as he stood up, Grace, used to his behaviour, poked him in the arm, just to annoy him further before responding.
"It's your turn to keep watch, Ronnie."
"No pet names!" Ronan growled before leaving, the door slammed shut behind him and Grace couldn't help but wince at the noise.
"Why do you let him disrespect you?" Achilles asked her as she settled onto one of the small beds; she sighed in response and lowered her slender body onto the thin mattress.
"Because he's as stubborn as a mule and won't listen when he's in a bad mood like now," she burrowed deeper into the blankets. "Go to sleep Achilles, g'night."
"You're no leader of mine, girl."
Grace smiled at the semi-warm come back and closed her eyes as the warm blanket of sleep descended upon her.
It was dark, she couldn't see anything, she couldn't feel anything, she couldn't hear anything, she couldn't taste anything, she couldn't smell anything... she was trapped in the darkness.
The darkness surrounded her at all sides, she didn't know where it began or ended, she couldn't tell up from down, left from right... it was just... there, it just existed. The darkness had no purpose and it gave no purpose.
She felt scared; she didn't know where she was or how she got there.
"Help! Where am I?! Somebody help me!"
There was a long silence, or rather, she was sure it was long, it could have been mere nanoseconds; time meant nothing here. A light appeared, from above – or was it below? – and moved towards her, soon, it shone so bright that she couldn't even see, warmth wrapped around her, she was held by someone, but it was too bright to see.
She could hear a voice, but it rumbled so much that she couldn't understand anything, but it didn't matter – she wasn't alone anymore...
The sunlight hit her eyelids, warming her semi-cold shoulders and face. The sleeping bag, normally able to hold any warmth – or rather, not enough for the heat obsessed girl – was extraordinarily warm, she felt smothered in warmth, she felt happy and safe, so sleepy...
Before she could even think of returning to dream land, she heard someone giggling.
Grace couldn't help but tense up, giggling? That wasn't right...
She slowly opened her eyes and turned her head, she spotted an irritated Ronan and Marty looking on as Bella and Virgil sniggered, cooing at the scene of her being cuddled...
Oh hell no...
Grace turned her head slowly and spotted the massive and god-like Achilles cuddling into her back, his long hair had random braids sticking out here and there, the fluffy and soft looking hair stuck up everywhere like a bird's nest.
He was asleep, and drool collected on the pillow and, thankfully, had not gotten into Grace's hair.
Achilles had a lot of explaining to do.
Hey guys, this was just a random idea I got during my Classical Civilisation class. I'm not stealing from the movie "Troy" I'm imagining what would happen if Achilles from the Iliad was transported from his time to the year 2010 AD where me and my friends are starting our Zombie Invasion story.
Do you like the idea? Is Grace coming off as a Mary-Sue?
By the way, Grace's eyes are haunted cause, as she said, they've all had a rough past and they've had to kill to stay alive, everyone changes once they've seen death.
Did I leave any spelling or grammar mistakes? Is there anything I can improve? Review and let me know, hopefully Ronan won't mess with my story, he likes to do that and it's annoying as hell.
Have a nice day. :)