The Road to Hell

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Chapter 2: Just My Luck

As the bright light flooding my vision faded, I found myself bolting upright into sitting position, gasping, and heaving for breath. As air entered my lungs, my heart beat so fast in my chest I felt as though it might burst. As the light in eyes faded to a more normal hue, I looked around wondering if what I had experienced was simply a nightmare. It was a comforting thought, but that hope was quickly dashed as I looked at my surroundings.

My skin felt itchy and greasy with sweat as I lay on what I could assume was bedding of some kind. I looked at the covers, or what passed for them anyway. And it was then I noticed something else, something that should've gotten my attention the moment I awoke.

My somewhat round belly was practically flat and near smooth as shaven wood and the skin was nearly as tan instead of the pale pasty white that came from isolating myself from the sun. I would've been jumping for joy at the fact I had suddenly lost weight in such a short amount of time were it not for the fact I silently freaking out. I raised my hands in front of my face and saw that the fingers and palms didn't have the familiar dry flaky skin that was the result of years of handling cleaning chemicals and detergents working as a dishwasher. They looked fitter and wirier with slight callouses on the palms of them.

I then looked at my surroundings and surmised that I must be in shack or shed. The nearby sound of water trickling, and gurgling told me that there was perhaps a river or stream nearby. I slowly pulled myself out of the bedding and stood to my feet. Rubbing my eyes, I looked around for a mirror that could reassure me with my own reflection.

Upon seeing a nearby mirror and basin, I stumbled towards it, my legs feeling stiff as wood. The basin was filled near to the brim with water as I cupped some in my hands and splashed my face with it.

Sighing in relief, I braced my hands on the basin and raised my head to look in the mirror. I stared dumbfound in shock and surprise. Staring back at me was someone else entirely. The first thing that I noticed was the new colour of my hair which was also much longer than normal and did not have the male pattern baldness I was familiar with. The follicles were dyed a deep dark blue colour; Pinching a lock of hair between my fingers, I looked at the roots to see if my normal colour was there. But instead of the normal sandy brown the roots were a silvery blonde almost white colour. Looking at my eyes, I noticed they had changed too from the pale blue-grey colour to a much darker blue, so dark they were almost purple in hue and were framed by long lashes that had also been dyed the same colour as my hair. Then came the appearance of my face; gone were the chubby cheeks and freckles nor the five o'clock shadow, but the face was that of someone much younger and dare I say it better looking.

"What the fuck is going on?" I muttered to myself and I almost gave a start as I heard my voice had changed as well from the typical Australian accent to one that sounded more British.

I staggered backward, my hands feeling a face that wasn't my own. I was almost hyperventilating as I tried to sort this out in my head. "Okay, think! What was I doing before I woke up?" I asked myself and then I started to remember what had happened. I was on my way to work crossing the street then a car came barrelling down toward me, and I then met what could only be called the Grim Reaper himself who said that The Powers That Be, whoever they were, had told him-her-it that I was a special case, whatever that was.

Then I found myself waking up with entirely new face that made me look like some bishonen anime hero. I tried to think of some reason or justification for what I was experiencing right now; was this some elaborate prank someone was pulling on me? It seemed like it. Shaking my head, I looked my reflection again; it was young, maybe fifteen or perhaps sixteen years of age whereas I was thirty years old.

I felt a cold shiver run down my spine as; this was either some kind of convoluted prank, or something more sinister was at work. The latter started to seem more likely as I remember my encounter with Death. Bringing myself together, I looked at the window which had the shutters closed and I realised that the room felt damn stuffy. I walked over to the windows and opened them to look outside.

Instead of the familiar sight of a suburban street of a little coastal town with cars and asphalt roads and other houses, there was a vast field that thrummed with the sound of crickets and a stream nearby. The breeze that blew in through the open window was refreshingly pleasant and smelled of earthy grass, fresh water along with the sharp scent of animal manure.

While the sight might've been pleasant to look at, I was more concerned with the fact that I wasn't in my hometown. This was only getting stranger and all the more concerning.

Then the sound of a door swinging open startled me and I spun around to see two men staring at me. The first man was slim in body with a cleanshaven, yet lined face and his hair was pulled back behind his head into a knot or bun. The other guy was cleanshaven as well; he had blue hair much as I did, but I could spot the roots were a red colour and his eyes were a pale blue.

I stared at the two men dumbfounded and the blue haired man almost shouted, "Sweet Mother above, Aegon! Cover yourself up!"

I looked down and I almost gave a yelp as I now realised that I was stark naked, and I madly dashed for the bed covers and covered my exposed areas while the two intruders averted their eyes. Once I had covered my indecency, I looked at the blue haired man and I asked, "What did you call me?"

The blue haired man looked at me in surprise as he slowly moved forward, "Aegon… I call you Aegon. Do you not remember who you are?" he said imploringly.

My stomach suddenly felt hollow as a pit formed as I realised what was happening. I died, met Death and was reborn into the body of a Targaryen from Game of Thrones. And judging from my newfound appearance I was Young Griff, the supposed Prince Aegon VI Targaryen smuggled out of Kings Landing as a baby and raised in Essos in secret. His appearance in the mirror certainly matched what was described in the books; blue hair, long eyelashes and the fact that the older man had blue hair also.

"Who… Who are you?" I asked finding my voice.

The older blue haired man had a pained look in his eyes as he said to me, "Aegon… Griff… Jon. Jon Connington. You remember me, don't you?"

I shook my head in response and Griff/Jon Connington turned to the other man and spoke to him. "What's happened to him, Halfmaester?!" he yelled.

Haldon Halfmaester (I could only guess at this point) shrugged his shoulders at this query and replied, "I do not know, my lord. I've never heard of anyone losing their memory from a fever. Perhaps he knocked his head in his sleep?" He looked at me and asked, "Tell me, lad. Do you remember anything? Anything at all?"

I slowly shook my head in response, shrugging my shoulders. I remember the car crash I was in and I remember meeting the Grim Reaper himself, or at least bits of it. I died and found myself in the world of ice & fire, specifically Essos. It had to be, but at what one point in time I wasn't sure. It couldn't be before the start of the War of Five Kings, although my body's age would determine that soon enough as I knew that in the TV series, the characters were all aged up by about roughly five years or so and the age of the body I found myself in was at least fifteen years old so I found it in me to ask a question.

"What year is it?"

Haldon gave me the answer, "It is the year two-hundred-four-and-ninety after Aegon's Conquest," he told me. "Why do you ask, Griffin?" he enquired.

"I think… I think I need to sit down. I don't feel that good," I replied as I stumbled over to the edge of the bed and sat down on it, my head in my hands.

"A wise idea, my prince," Haldon said in agreement with an eager nod of his head. "Septa Lemore will bring you some soup. You just focus on getting some rest, the fever may still be upon you," he added.

Griff/Jon Connington looked like he wanted to stay by my side but he reluctantly left the room with Haldon, but not before looking at me with worry in pale blue eyes and concern etched on his face.

After the two left the room, I sat there on the edge of the bed which was hard as wood. My hands grasped the sides of my head as I wracked my thoughts on what was happening to me. If what Haldon had said to me was true, it would be about four years before the start of Game of Thrones and judging from my new body's age, I had some time before then, but the knowledge of being thrown into a world full of dragons, ice zombies and political backstabbing along with incestuous families, assassins who could change their faces and things that almost certainly seemed inspired by H.P Lovecraft wasn't doing me any favours.

Some part of me was hoping that if I simply lay down on the bed and went to sleep, I could wake up back home in my own bed and go back to my normal blessedly boring life as a cleaner.

But if this really was happening and the cards I had been dealt with, I needed some kind of gameplan to run with. I couldn't afford to just jump in blind. I also knew that the ending of the TV series was not the kind I would want, but the ending of the books however was still in the air given that Winds of Winter hadn't been released yet.

I took this moment to look at the ceiling and say, "What did I ever do to piss you off, huh?" I received no tangible answer, so I sighed heavily and lay back on the hard bed, my arms folded over my chest as I pondered my situation. After a moment, I felt myself drift off to sleep and I had the vain hope that this was all a nightmare and that I would wake up back home. With that comforting thought in the back of my mind, I surrendered myself to the sandman.

TO BE CONTINUED…

A/N: There! Second chapter of this story is done and dusted. Now if this scene seems somewhat familiar, it is mostly because I drew some inspiration from my friend LuciuOctivus's Catalyst story, so to you Lucius I do apologise if this is copying you in any way, but I will do my best to make my story different from yours. I mean, this story is also a crossover with Elder Scrolls, so expect to see some Elder Scrolls stuff in future, although I'm still working that out, plus I may even bring in Witcher, Fallout and some other fandoms into this story.

In other news, I'm working on writing a Highschool of the Dead/Elder Scrolls crossover and the basic premise is that the HOTD crew and the Dragonborn/Dovahkiin all end up in the Fallout universe, although which one it will be will be decided by a voting poll on my profile and so far, New Vegas and Fallout 4 are in the lead, but I am somewhat hopeful that Fallout 76 will take the top spot as I think the HOTD crew could find some similarities between the Scorched and Them/HOTD Zombies, plus if I bring in Shido and his little cult into the story, he could throw his lot in with the Mothman Cultists and use them as an army to take over Appalachia.

But enough rambling from me for now. Please leave a review if you liked this chapter or if you have any ideas/suggestions for this story, I will take them into consideration for this story.

Be kind to one another,

Angry lil' elf.