Captured By The Warriors

by Daniella Wright

  I take yet another bite of my nutrition supplement, and realize it tastes remarkably bland. Perhaps it is because my other senses have been rewarded with such splendor, but my taste buds seemed to be rebelling at the utter tastelessness of my government provided nutrition. Swallowing what I had bitten off, I tuck the bar back into my bag. If I find a town, perhaps I can indulge in some period delicacies, but in the meantime, even the dandelion I had sniffed seemed more appetizing than what I had brought. I pause as I come to what appears to be some sort of orchard, glancing towards the neatly grouped trees. It seems convenient, almost too convenient. However, I quickly identify the trees as being apple trees, and it seems to me that they are overburdened with fruit. Glancing around, and seeing no one in the vicinity, I reach towards one of the lower branches. There is a bright red apple hanging just within reach, and my stomach rumbles in anticipation as I wrap my hand around it.

  “Hey! What are you doing!? You’re trespassing on the king’s lands!” A gruff voice calls, and the thundering sound of hooves assaults my delicate ears. The king’s lands? Trespassing? Certainly not, it seemed such a foolish notion. However, a man garbed in metallic armor leaps off of his horse and levels his sword in my direction. Perhaps it would have been wise to toss the apple away, but instead, I lower my hand with it still in my grasp. “The king’s prized apples!” The… guard, I suppose, cries out. His voice is harsh, and I’m startled into dropping the fruit in my hand. It wasn’t intentional, but the guards considered me as if I had killed one of their own.

  “I didn’t know…” I sputter helplessly, taking a step back. The other guards dismount their horses, aiming their swords at my heart with startling accuracy, These are men who are not afraid to kill. They had likely killed stronger men than I, and I know I have no chance if I fight them. One of the human men, perhaps a self appointed leader, steps forward and takes me by the wrist. “Don’t kill me, please. I have so much to live for,” I whisper, the words sounding hollow even to my own ears.

  “We’re not going to kill you, lad.” The guard says gruffly, looping a length of rope around my wrists. “That’s the executioner’s job.” He adds as an afterthought. My heart feels as if it has dropped into my stomach. I allow the man to lead me to my inevitable death. This is how it ends. I thought I would be safe here, but there was no way I could anticipated how wrong I was. As I trail behind the guards, I look for any possible escape route, but I know I could not outrun them on their horses. Resigning myself to my fate, I fall into step behind the guard--

  Only to stop abruptly as an arrow whizzes past my face and is planted in the tree to my side. I can’t contain the panicked scream that escapes me, and the guards seem as wrapped up in a panic as I am.

  “Bandits!” One of them shouts. Another arrow soars into the clearing, but it is impossible to see which direction they’re coming from. In the ruckus, the guard holding onto my bindings drops them, leaping atop his horse. He raises his sword, and I am tempted to complain when it seems they intend to abandon me here with bandits. However, I quickly remind myself that their intent was to kill me all along, so I remain silent. I edge away from the horses, biting back a squeal as a hand covers my mouth and I am pulled into the underbrush. I struggle briefly, but a pair of lips ghost against my ears and render me motionless.

  “Hush, now. Do you not want to live?” A melodic feminine voice croons, and a spike of uncertainty lances through my heart. Regardless, I allow her to pull me deeper into the depths of the brush, watching as the guards seem to realize that I am missing. The supposed bandits are suspiciously absent, and I can’t help feeling as if some higher power is watching out for me. The hand presses firmer against my mouth, and I quake in fear as the guards grow near to the brush.

  “Damn! He must have gotten away. If we’re lucky, the bandits will get him.” The apparent leader muttered. The other guards rumble in agreement, and they quickly climb back atop their horses and disappear back in the direction they must have come from. Whoever had been supporting my weight allows me to sag to the ground, and I scramble to my feet, wheeling around to face them. Immediately I am struck by her beauty. She smiles coyly, crossing her arms over her chest. I immediately notice the quiver she carries, and I can’t help but bark out a laugh as I realize what has happened.

  “There were no bandits!” I breathe, my body’s quaking easing off somewhat. She smiles teasingly, shrugging a shoulder.

  “Do not be so quick to assume you are safe. I could very well be a bandit, could I not?” She says slyly, and I am unable to ignore the unmistakable jolt of arousal that surges through me at her lilting tone. I cough awkwardly, crossing my arms over my chest in an attempt to be casual.

  “If you were a bandit, why would you save me from the guards?” I reply coolly, cracking what I can only hope is a suave grin. The woman considers me for a long moment, quirking her lips and giggling. I am immediately enamored, her laughter sounding much like the pleasant tinkle of a bell.

  “Oh, well, from the looks of your strange garb… I thought perhaps you were an eccentric diplomat.” She offers, shifting her hand to her quiver. Uncertainty shoots through me, mingling with the tingling in my chest for a rather confusing sensation. I open my mouth to speak, stammering awkwardly and wringing my hands together. “In any case. You should be on your way, traveler. The guards may come looking for you again, and I will not be here to save you a second time.” She says with a small smile. She turns her back on me and begins to slip away, and I smother the desire to trail after her. As beautiful as she is, as much as I would love to pursue her, it is not to be. She is not of my time. All the same…

  “You are not a bandit, then, right?” I call out, hoping she lingers for a moment longer.

  “That is not for you to know.” She calls back, not pausing in her stride. I stare after her, mouth hanging slightly agape as I watch the certainly unintentional sway of her hips. Not of my time, I remind myself.

  Counting myself lucky to live another day, I turn away from the orchard and begin back in the direction of my time machine. Though many would likely be dissuaded from continuing their venture through time, I simply hope the next trip will be… more successful. I step back into my machine, the tingling in my chest having returned at full force. My mind had been drawn away from the state of my invention, but now it returned to the situation at hand. As I adjust the dial to return to my own time, I make certain to mask my eyes before throwing the lever. My body quakes with anticipation, as if it craves the lurch of the machine. I feel a strange sense of satisfaction as the blinding light fills the cavity of the time machine. My knees feel a bit weak, and I rest the back of my head against the wall of the machine, keeping my eyes closed until it ceases moving.

  I all but collapse out of the machine as the doors slide open, stumbling over to the nearest workbench. I collapse bodily upon it, sagging and breathing a sigh that could almost be mistaken for pleasure. Jolting from my reverie, a purple hued blush washes up on my cheeks. I push myself to my feet, taking a moment before bed to gently wash the wound on my hand. I swallow thickly as I realize my mind is still wrapped upon the woman I had seen in the past. I am certain that even in the few remaining history books, I have never seen a human of such immaculate beauty. I am almost equally certain that I will fall for another woman in another time. Perhaps it is the romance of the situation, but something about my experience seems almost otherworldly.

  I awaken before my alarm clock even has time to sound, and I quickly dismiss the alert. With the happenings the day before, I was lucky to pass as, as my savior said, an eccentric diplomat. However, in the future it would benefit me to look as inconspicuous as possible. I slip on a simple black shirt, and a pair of matching slacks before slipping towards my workshop. My plan this time is to go to several thousand years in the future. It seems like overkill, but I want to make extra certain any of my near ancestors are long dead, if they even exist. Again with the space time continuum.

  As the door to my wor
kshop slides open, the familiar tingle from the day before returns. Ghosting my hand to the broad expanse of my chest, I can’t help thinking back to the woman who saved me. Arousal spikes through me once more, and I quickly avert my mind to the least sexy thing I can think of. Naked grandma. ...Okay, that worked a bit too well. Wishing I had a bit of mind bleach, I step towards my time machine, examining my reflection in the dented steel. I am less worried about hiding my time machine in this future timeline, as I am certain I would not be the only time traveler to make this particular venture. The only risk was, as I mentioned before, the risk of skewing space time, though I am not sure what the effects of that may be. Even now, I am still unclear on whether the exposure during my travels is having some sort of adverse reaction on my body. I exhale a sigh, examining my skin in my reflection for any odd specks or spots. Seeing nothing abnormal, aside from the wound that remains on my hand, I offer my reflection a smile before slipping into my invention.

  The gap seems to be growing wider, but there’s little to be done about it at this point. I’m too invested in my explorations to delay them any further, and it’s all in the name of science. I adjust the knobs around two thousand years into the future, swallowing my excitement and jerking the lever with little preamble. I am used to the blinding light by now, and if anything, it seems to be growing more tolerable. Perhaps the light is dimming, or perhaps I am simply adjusting to the harshness of it. In any case, I no longer have to cover my eyes, though the light still makes me squint. Though I have only been undergoing these explorations for a short time, it almost seems routine at this point. It doesn’t detract from the heart pounding excitement, though any fears I may have had have begun to abate.

  When it is clear I have arrived at the appropriate point in time, the doors slide open and I step outside. Immediately, I am struck by… how bland everything seems. All around me, everything is a shade of grey from the buildings to the streets to the sky itself. Even the people are clad in muted tones, and I realize the clothes I chose this morning are all too appropriate. No one seems to have even noticed the arrival of my machine, even as people walk the streets in droves on either side of me. I almost expect someone to complain about my placement on the sidewalk, but the empty eyed people of this time simply walk around, remaining silent with their heads bowed low.

  Following the crowd, I examine the world of the future around me. I am certain there must be some redeeming feature to this place, but there is nothing of note. The sheer melancholy of the place seems to be wearing off on even myself, and I feel my head being drawn to a ducked position. My feet, however, are unused to the change of pace and move too quickly to be of any grace. I abruptly slam into another body, and my head jerks upwards as apologies begin to spill past my lips. However, I cut myself short as I take in the visage of the person I have collided with.

  It’s impossible, and I am very much aware of the impossibility of the situation, but the person seems too familiar. Where everything in this future world is muted and grey, she seems to almost shimmer in her radiance. That same honey blonde hair, those same sky blue eyes that seem to see right through you. Not like the skies of this time, but of a time much more vibrant. She quirks a curious brow as she considers me, and I straighten up, offering her a slight smile. Between the hundreds of people parting on either side of us, she is the most colorful person in the crowd.

  “Uh… sorry.” I manage, trying not to stare at the tight cut of her pants. She stares at me for a long moment, looking briefly pensive before smiling dismissively.

  “No problem.” She says simply, hesitating for a moment. “You look rather out of place, here.” She offers, as if nervous to speak the words. I offer her a bright smile, tilting my head in curiosity. It seems strange to encounter what seems nearly a genetic duplicate with so many years between the time periods I have traversed. But the resemblance is uncanny, and as she draws her lip between her teeth, I feel myself growing firmer. If she notices, she gives no indication, seeming to think over what she wanted to say. I am desperate to escape, but more desperate to hear what she has to say. I hope I continue to go unnoticed, but this hope is dashed as her eyes are drawn between my thighs. Her mouth falls agape, and I begin sputtering apologies.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just… you’re just…” I manage awkwardly, noting with some relief that she doesn’t seem utterly disgusted by my primal reaction. If anything, she looks almost intrigued.

  “You are certainly a strange one.” She hums. I can only chuckle nervously, waiting for an opening to escape. However, her fingers soon interlace with my own, and I have to bite back a gasp of surprise. “You are fortunate that I like strange. A breath of fresh air, I think. Would you… perhaps this is rather forward, but would you like to join me at my apartment?” She says slyly, and if anything, I feel myself growing harder. Hard enough to strain against the tight pants I chose today. Her eyes dance with mirth, and though I have no business engaging in such acts with her, I cannot deny her.

  “Y-yes. Of course.” I smile, allowing her to tug me in the direction of her home. She walks through the crowd of people as if they are not even present, and if anyone notices my flustered state, they simply do not care. It is as if I do not even exist, though to be frank, it looks like many people in this timeline would prefer not to exist. I try to distract myself from that thought, which is an easy enough task as I look down to see my companion’s hips swinging lusciously from side to side.

  As soon as we step into her apartment, her lips crash against my own. My heart is pounding in my chest, and I can feel my pulse throbbing in other places as well. Uncertainty washes over me, not only because she is not of my time period, but because I am altogether inexperienced in this… particular… field. I have had my moments of fumbling grasps and elation, but never anything that felt so significant. Never with someone so beautiful. I don’t even realize her hands have slipped away from my shoulders until I feel her grasp me through my clothes. I nearly come unwound on the spot, but manage to keep my composure long enough for her to offer me a coy smile.

  “Just let go.” She croons in that melodious voice, but I refuse to give in. At least, not yet. She slips her pants down her hips, and it is with a jolt that I realize she is not wearing any underwear. She makes no move to remove her shirt, and it strikes me how little this exchange means to her. It also strikes me that perhaps I am letting this exchange mean too much to me. Allowing my mind to go blissfully blank, I feel her warmth envelop my length and am swept away into ecstasy. Her breathy cries are the only sound aside from my guttural gasps, and though it seems an eternity we are only together for a scarce moment. Then, we are both gripped by our respective highs, and I can do little but babble nonsensically. I want a name to scream, but I have not been offered one, so I can only whimper. When I come down from my peak, she seems to have already recovered, examining me with almost clinical indifference. Beneath her gaze, I feel almost small. However, the slight smile she offers me before she turns and walks away makes it all feel worth it. It is a small gesture, but somehow, it makes me feel ten feet tall. After all, it is but a blip in time, and there is no sense pondering it all too deeply. I pull up my slacks, adjust myself to look at least moderately respectable, and slip out of her apartment building, making my way back to the time machine. If even a small percent of my ventures are comparable to this, the years spent agonizing over research will be well worth it. Even now, with this one experience with this one genetic marvel, it feels well worth it. My mind is drawn to the woman from the past, and though I know they are not one and the same, I can’t help thinking this meeting was somehow fated. Now, all there is left to do for the day is go home and refresh my knowledge on genetics. Perhaps there is something that I overlooked. I only know it is simply worth pursuing further.

  Chapter 3

  Another day, another venture. I awake later than usual today, but the day before and what I had experienced left me feeling rather exhausted. I sit up in bed, feeling myself drawn to my w
orkshop more than ever. I felt as if I were running late for some important meeting, and though the feeling was unfounded, I found myself moving in something of a rush. Today’s timeline would lead me to the peak of human culture, sometime before the species self-destructed.

  Though many things about the past fascinate me, the time that humans ruled the earth seems perhaps the most interesting. The time I had chosen was early in the 2nd millennia, before the turn of the first century. Much about this time is pure speculation, which is what drives me to visit it. There seems to be much to learn, much to discover. Perhaps the most compelling reason is the simple tug I feel; as if I am meant to go there on this very day. It is inexplicable, but much about my explorations seemed impossible. In refreshing my knowledge on genetics, I had confirmed that the genetic duplicate was scarcely in the realm of statistical probability. Though I have little option but to dismiss the woman I’d met as some sort of genetic anomaly, I cannot help but feel as if something is amiss. Was there some sort of protocol for genetic reconstruction in the future? One can only wonder.