To RandomFanAuthor- I'm not rude. I'm delightful ^_^ And yes, drop kick Morris. (My nephew is big on wrestlers at the minute and I upset him accidentally the other day- he FaceTimed us with a mask on and I thought it was Spider-Man! Apparently it's Cain, so he wasn't happy with me. On the other side, I did recognise John Cena and got a great big grin for it, so 50/50 doesn't hate me :P )

Flying cars were pretty cool. Considering they were built to fly and didn't carry three screaming teenagers. The car achieved zero gravity. Apollo had a few microseconds to appreciate the scenery below- a little lake edged with those nicely-scented eucalyptus trees and walking trails, a small beach on the far shore packed with evening picnickers relaxing on blankets. He had enough time to think, oh good, perhaps we'll land in the water.

Then they dropped. Not towards the softer, safer landing of the water, but the harrowing, unrelenting trees and their many, many grasping, bruising branches. The good thing seemed to be that the branches had stripped the ghoul away. Other outreaches seemed to bend around their car, slowing their descent, dispensing them from one leafy bough to another, until they hit the ground on all four wheels and a jarring thud.

Apollo blinked, hands glued to the wheel. A second later, the airbags deployed and shoved his head against the headrest.

Blood stung his throat as yellow dashes danced in his eyes. Clawing for the door handle, he squeezed his way out and crumpled onto cool, soft grass, heaving. Meg was nearby, also retching. Ten feet to his left, water lapped at the shore of the lake. He distantly remembered, through the pained fog in his mind, that Louisa could use that. Then he realised Louisa was nowhere in sight.

Snarling broke through the ringing in his ears and he looked up. Directly above them, the blue-black monster was writhing and crying out in protest, kicking at its cage of branches.

Apollo struggled to sit, groaning. The world spun, not helping his nausea. "Meg?" She staggered into view, leaning on the hood of the car. Ring-shaped bruises surrounded her eyes, courtesy of her airbag and glasses.

"You suck at swerving."

"You ordered me to!" He countered, brain faltering as he started to piece things together. "How are we alive? Was that you? Did you tree-bend?"

"Duh." She flicked her hands and her golden sica blades flashed into her grasp. She used them like ski poles to steady herself. "They won't hold it much longer. Where's Lou?" They looked at the car as one. Apollo hauled himself to his feet with the aid of the driver's door. Across the lake, the picnickers had risen from their blankets. It was a bit hard ignoring a bright red car falling through a guardrail and being caught by trees. Apollo squinted- his vision was definitely blurry, but he was sure one of them was wearing armour. And… did another have goat legs?

He limped his way along the car, the back passenger door dented and marred with hundreds of scratches and gouges. The window had smashed, turning milky white with the extent of the breakage. The glass tumbled out in a glistening cascade of shards as yanked the door open.

Louisa was slumped in the middle seat, head lolling, chin on her chest. Blood coloured one side of her face, her knife had fallen from her limp hand, now down by her feet. Having been trying to rest on the drive here, she had not worn her seat belt. Now, she had paid for it, smacking her head on gods-knew-what. Apollo leaned in, holding his hand just before her face. Her breathing tickled his palm, shallow but consistent. She was out cold. He relayed this to Meg, shuffling to the trunk.

"Get ready." Meg advised.

"Come again?" Apollo requested. She had gone a sickly grey colour, her swords the only thing keeping her up. He threw open the trunk, snatching up his bow and quiver. His ukulele had somehow got stuck in the corner, caught in the dents. There was no time; he would have to make do.

The creature howled, thrashing more erratically. Meg staggered, forehead beaded with sweat. She gave a minute shake of her head. The creature broke free, hurtling downwards with a victorious, gleeful screech.

"KILL AND EAT!" It screamed, readying its claws.

"Wait!" Apollo cried, voice shriller than he wanted. At the monster's confusion, he wagged a finger, brain floundering. "I- I know you." His bow shook in his other hand, arrows rattling in his quiver. "H-hold on, it'll… it'll come to me."

The ghoul continued to hesitate, sniffing the air. Apollo believed all sentient creatures liked to be recognised, be it gods, people or slavering ghouls in vulture-feather diapers. He was, of course, just trying to buy time for Meg to catch her breath or Louisa to wake up, just someone else a bit more qualified to deal with the beast than he was.

When neither outcome occurred, he mentally grumbled at their leaving him to handle Vulture Diaper.

That struck a chord. He took another look at the creature, its strange mottled blue-black skin and milky eyes, its over-sized mouth of snapping teeth and tiny nostril slits. Even from this distance, its rancid-meat stink was near-overwhelming. "I do know you." He said, surprising himself. "You're an eurynomos." The ghoul's lip curled in what could have been a smile, silvery strands of spit dribbling from its chin as it clapped twice, delighted.

"YES! FOOD SAID MY NAME!"

"B-but you're a corpse-eater!" Apollo protested. "You're supposed to be in the Underworld, working for Hades!"

"HADES GAVE ME OLD DEAD!" It bellowed, stomping its gnarled feet. "THE MASTER GIVES ME FRESH!"

"That master?"

"THE MASTER!" Apollo winced, wishing it didn't scream. He couldn't see any ears on the beast, so maybe it had poor volume control. He also couldn't see how Louisa could sleep through the racket.

"If you mean Caligula, I bet he's made all sorts of promises to you. I can assure you, he's not-"

"HA! STUPID FOOD! CALIGULA IS NOT THE MASTER!"

"Not the master?"

"NOT THE MASTER!"

"MEG!" Apollo shouted.

"What?" She wheezed, shuffling forward geriatric-like with her makeshift crutches. "Gimme. Minute." She huffed. Apollo grimaced- she would not be taking the lead in this fight. And he was ninety-five percent repulsed at the idea of Vulture Diaper killing her, so it seemed he would have to do some work himself.

"Well, eurynomos," he said, "whoever your master is, you're not killing and eating anyone today!" He snatched an arrow from his quiver and loaded it, like he had done billions of times before. It was only less cool now due to his trembling hands and jelly-filled knees. The creatures hissed, stepping forward.

"SOON THE MASTER'S ARMIES WILL RISE AGAIN!" It shrieked. "WE WILL FINISH THE JOB! I WILL SHRED FOOD TO THE BONE AND FOOD WILL JOIN US!" Apollo repeated the last bit in his head, stomach twisting. The slightest cut from a eurynomos's claws caused a wasting disease in mortals. When they died, they rose again as what the Greeks called vrykolakai. Zombies.

But the ghouls had another ability- if they managed to devour a corpse, right down to the bones, that skeleton would reanimate as the fiercest, toughest kind of undead warrior.

The creatures sniffed at the car, face twisting into an overjoyed snarl. "TOO STRONG FOOD WON'T STOP THE MASTER THIS TIME! TOO STRONG FOOD WILL JOIN US!"

"LEAVE HER ALONE!" Meg demanded, stumbling forward. She raised her swords, but was in no fit state to fight. Apollo rushed towards her, shoulder-slamming her aside and firing at the monster. The arrow struck true- middle of the ghoul's chest. Rather than sticking and injuring, however, it bounced off. The Celestial bronze point must have stung, at the least, having made the beast yelp and stop in its tracks. It was very much still alive and that had not been the plan.

"Don't let it scratch you." He told Meg.

"You pushed me." She said, complaining, in awe at his gall, indignant. Apollo translated that to, thank you so much for saving me, Apollo.

"Just don't get scratched." He urged, readying another arrow. "That was a warning shot!" He called, bluffing. "The next will kill!" A gurgling came from deep in the ghoul's throat. Apollo hoped it was a delayed sound of demise, but no. It was laughing at him. "I mean it!" He pressed on, bolstering his voice and deciding to ignore the tint of panic.

The eurynomos stomped towards him. Apollo fired again and again and again, each bolt sparking off the blue-black hide, leaving steaming, annoyingly non-lethal wounds. The ghoul lurched and snarled in pain with each impact.

It was five feet away.

Apollo fired again.

Three feet away, claws splaying to shred his face. Two feet.

"HEY!" A new voice shouted, drawing the monster's attention long enough for Apollo to heroically fall on his butt. He scrabbled away from the claws, heart pounding. The beast turned around, confused by the new audience. Ten feet away, a ragtag assortment of fauns and dryads, almost a dozen in total, were huddling together in an attempt to hide behind one gangly, pink-haired young woman in Roman armour.

She fumbled with some sort of projectile weapon, the name jumping into Apollo's mind bitterly- manubalista. A Roman heavy crossbow. Slow, powerful, notoriously unreliable. The ammunition was set, the pink-haired girl cranked the handle, her hands shaking as badly as Apollo's.

"MORE FOOD!" The ghoul exclaimed, clearly having the best days of its unlife. "YOU WILL ALL JOIN THE KING'S DEAD!"

"Dude." One of the fauns scratched his stomach. "That's not cool."

"Not cool." Several of the other nature spirits echoed.

"YOU CANNOT OPPOSE ME, ROMAN." The ghoul screeched. "I HAVE ALREADY TASTED THE FLESH OF YOUR COMRADES! AT THE BLOOD MOON, YOU WILL JOIN THEM-"

THWUNK.

An Imperial gold crossbow bolt sunk into the creature's chest, milky eyes widening with shock. The legionnaire responsible looked just as surprised.

"Dude, you hit it." The same faun said, offended at the action against his peaceful nature. The ghoul looked at them, stunned, before crumbling into dust and vulture feathers. The bolt hit the ground with a dull clunk.

"See?" Meg hobbled over, wincing. "That's how you're supposed to kill it."

"Oh, shut up." Apollo sulked. Together, they turned to their unlikely hero. Her bottom lip trembled, tears sitting at the corners of her eyes.

"I hate those things." She mumbled.

"Y-you've fought them before?" Apollo asked carefully. She looked at him, insulted by his stupid question. The faun nudged her.

"Lavinia, dude, ask who these guys are."

"Um, right." She cleared her throat, stood as tall as she could, cementing a baby giraffe resemblance. "Who are you?"

"I am Apollo." He answered with as much composure as he could muster. "And this is Meg. Thank you for saving us."

"Apollo as in…" Lavinia pointed upwards.

"It's a long story." He turned to the car. "Our friend is hurt, could you help us?"

"Your friend?" Lavinia demanded warily, grip tightening on her crossbow.

"Her name is Louisa. She's unconscious from the crash."

"Lou? Why's Lou with you?" Before Apollo could answer, a wail of rage and anguish echoed across Highway 24.

"Um…" One of the fauns raised his hand. "Don't those ghoul thingies usually hunt in, like, pairs?"

"Yes." Lavinia said grimly, examining the car. "Let's get you guys to camp. Then we can talk about…" She gestured at Apollo. "That. And…" She gestured at the car. "Why Lou's here." She rubbed at the back of her neck. "I hate my job."

You all seen the news? Chadwick Boseman died of cancer, he was only 43! Can't believe it! RIP, sir, you absolute legend