Chapter Five: Living Dead Boy The Irish police circled around the perimeter of the Astoria Nuclear Power plant, a long abandoned facility. It was only a good 20 miles from the Fowl estate, so it was fairly remote, with the proximity to towns. Men in uniforms, with guns drawn and at the ready, cautiously circled around from checkpoint to checkpoint, marking each area as clear as they slowly worked their way towards the center of the plant. Their objective was simple; Locate and protect the victim, Artemis Fowl, and detain his abductor, a man by the name of Corwin Mornsworth. An Englishman, Mornsworth joined the British Air force, then the secret service and was dishonorably discharged. Most of his information was blacked out, but there was enough there to know he was man to be dealt with carefully. A good fifty to sixty armed men slowly trickled into the three different entrances of the facility, using the same tactics they had outside, meticulously scouring the plant for any signs of inhabitants. They found many indications, such as a cot and portable stove in one room and a suitcase full of nondescript dark clothing and basic living needs. There was definitely someone there, he just needed to find out who... -Deeper within the plant- “Seems our little play date is over,” the impostor said, pulling up his pants and checking his hand held computer once more to see how far the police had infiltrated. Sometime after gloating to me, his cellphone (or, so I thought it was) went off, immediately throwing him into action. The bumbling idiots calling themselves police had tripped a dozen or more silent alerts while entering the plant and had given their prey ample time to escape. Yet, their prey still stood their, staring at me so penetratingly. It was like I was nothing but a window that lead to nothing and he was simply admiring his handiwork in creating the great crack right through my center. “Very sorry,” he whispered, smiling to himself, extremely pleased as I trembled. He leaned down and gave me a kiss on the cheek and told me how beautiful he thought I was. I looked down at myself. I was covered in blood. Not just between my legs, where it was dried and cracked, all smeared across my thighs. There were long trails of blood on my arms where the wire, still wrapped around my wrists, had broken and dug into the skin and on my sides where he had dug his nails in mercilessly. My face had long trails of blood making lines from my mouth and hairline (he had, at one point, grabbed my head and smashed it into the headboard). I did not feel beautiful. I felt like I looked like my heart, all broken and smashed and dirty. Running his hands through my greasy unwashed hair and getting his fingers stuck where the blood had matted, he said his last farewell and left. Just like that. It could not just be done, could it? He could not just leave like nothing had happened and leave me here, could he? Was it over? It did not feel like it. It felt like I was still under his thumb. It felt like he was still violating everything everywhere all the time. It felt like nothing would be right again. Where was Butler? Where was Remy? I wanted to go home. -Outside the Guard Quarters- The leader of the four man group that had ventured into the guard and security portion of the facility waved his group forward. This was one of the last places they had to look and one of the most likely places they would find the boy or his captor. With grim determination he approached the first door, noting that it was already partially open ant that there was soft sobbing coming from within. So, he had located the boy. Question was, would Mornsworth be inside as well? Or, rather, how bad of shape would the boy be in? He had been missing for three days. Most people would be dead by now. With a small nod to the others in his group, they burst into the room, startling the small figure crouched on the filthy cot. He was the only one there. Somewhat taken aback, the commanding officer, slowly lowered his weapon, examining the poor child before him. It was fairly obvious what had happened to him, if not from the blood on his legs and the sheets of the cot, then from his skittish and terrified demeanor and his large haunted sky blue eyes. Holstering his weapon, the man approached the boy with a caution, not wanting to spook him any further. There was really no need to scare him any more than he already was. Slowly, he reached out his hand, paused as Artemis flinched away and hid his face, then moved again to cup his face and slowly bring it up to wipe the blood from his face with a handkerchief. When Artemis' face had relaxed and his silent tears slowed a little, the commander turned and ordered his subordinates to contact the other teams and to get a medical team up to the guard room immediately. That, and to find something to cut the wire from Artemis' wrists. The bleeding had yet to stop and he could see that some of the wire had buried itself deep beneath the skin. He desperately hoped that the wound would not get infected, otherwise the boy might loose both hands. -Local Hospital, Waiting Room- Remy Altman sat in the uncomfortable chair provided to him by the hospital and tried his best to remedy his uncomfortable feelings. Shortly after realizing what might have happened to Artemis, he had called the Irish police and informed them about his concerns for his classmate. They had, in turn, started an investigation into the location and condition of Artemis Fowl. Within 24 hours, they knew that he had been missing, quite literally vanishing into thin air, or, rather, through the front door. They had learned this from Miss Julia Butler. She had cooperated fully, being very worried about her smart little friend. However, they could not locate Domovoi Butler. It seemed that he had procured a pass into the United States to see an old military friend. That had worried them, but once they had spoken with some locals, they also heard about the strange going-ons with a man also calling himself Domovoi Butler, who had been traveling back and forth between the town just beside Fowl Manor and the Astoria Power plant. From there, they had infiltrated and retrieved Artemis. He was in pretty bad shape when they found him, but no more than that would be said. Remy had learned all this from a kind officer, the commander of the squad that had located Artemis. He was not allowed to see him, since he was not a family member, but Artemis' parents were with him in the Intensive Care Unit. He knew that Artemis had had to undergo some kind of minor operation to his hands, though he really had no idea what kind of operation it was and it scared the hell out of him. What could that man have done to his hands? If that bastard really hurt Artemis, he would kill him! He meant it, if Artemis could not type or write or draw or do any of those other things he liked to do so often that required his hands, he would kill him. He would cut off his hands and give his incomplete lover justification, even if the law did not. A woman came into the waiting room crying quietly, being guided along by man who looked extraordinarily like Artemis, only much older and with a much more expressive face. He hobbled along beside his wife on a prosthetic leg, trying to help her into the room but really being helped himself. Remy closed in on the couple quickly. “How is he?” Remy tried to ask quietly, but the emotion and anxiousness in his voice still communicated easily. “Oh...” the woman moaned, hiding her face in Artemis senior's chest. Her husband kindly patted her head, looking at her sympathetically. “Don't worry,” Artemis father said, not looking up at the blond. “He'll be fine. He's just ... in shock,” the older man finished vaguely. Remy did not question further and allowed the couple to pass him by and sit down in a pair of seats on the other side of the room. He did not know what to do. He still could not see Artemis, due to hospital protocol, but he also did not want to sit there, not really knowing anything about his boyfriend's condition. Remy could not just stand there. He had to do something! Setting his face in a grim expression of determination, Remy Altman advanced fearlessly towards the I.C.U. -I.C.U. Ward, Room 204, Artemis Fowl- I do not know if I had ever experienced anything quite like what I experienced in the hospital ward of Astoria's I.C.U. It was quite a unique, the feeling of surrealism and pain. There was an intense pain in my hands, backside, and head in general. The doctors had me on a morphine drip, but it had yet to take effect. Perhaps because I had removed the drip as soon as their backs were turned, I am not completely sure. I remembered my parents visiting. My mother was crying. She had bust into tears as soon as she saw my condition, though she looked as if she was on the verge of such when she first entered. My father was much more composed, though his face betrayed the pain and betrayal he felt towards nothing in particular. He had not reacted much, with the exception of the deepening furrows between his brows and his overly gentle touch. I did not speak to them. To be fair, I had not spoke a word since my rapist and torturer had left me. I felt somewhat cheated, that our meeting and all my pain would have such an anti-climatic ending, if that was the ending at all. I do not know what the doctor told them about my mental condition. I did not really care. I already knew that I was fairly insane. I had lost all logic and that was that. After Mother and Father had left, I was preparing myself for a nice nap (or, at least, an attempt at a nap) when someone else entered the room. I can not describe to you how irritating that was. I just wanted to get some peace and quiet and these darned whippersnappers had to come and disrupt it with their prodding stethoscopes and mind-numbing drugs. I was just about to chuck a water filled glass at the figure when I finally identified the blond hair and soft concerned expression. “Remy?” I croaked out. I was fully expecting my hallucination to laugh openly in my face and morph into my previous captor or some equally distasteful image, but was startled to find something else. The image ran towards me and threw it's head down on my chest, sobbing. In fact, it was not an image at all. I could feel the weight and warmth of his head and could feel the strength of his sobs as he clutched at the blankets on my chest and struggled to bury deeper into my being. “Artemis, I'm so sorry,” my non-hallucinated boyfriend cried, his apology muffled against my sternum. Reaching up, I threaded my fingers through Remy's hair with the hand the I.V. was injected into. Oh dear. What to do? I had not expected this. Even so, it was a very nice surprise that I welcomed. This was the boy that I kept wishing was near me and now he was. He was also extremely saddened by my ordeal, apparently. This saddened me, in turn, and I found that, well, quite distasteful. “Why are you apologizing?” I whispered, not wanting to startle the poor little thing under my hand. “Because!” he exclaimed, jumping up suddenly and startling me. Sadly, I was still in defensive mode. I did not really think he would hit me, but my body did. Fortunately, the flinch was lost on his overly emotional state. “I wasn't there! I wasn't there to protect you, or help you, or try to comfort you when you were in pain! Maybe this never should have happened, maybe it was nobody's fault, but that doesn't really matter. It's just that I couldn't do anything! What kind of useful am I? I'm completely useless,” Remy finished, laying his head back on my chest. For a long moment, I simply digested what he said. It was true, I wanted and expected him or Butler to come and save me the entire time. However, none of them arrived and I was left to my own abilities. Still, I could not expect that of them. At least Remy was here. As far as I knew, Butler was nowhere to be seen. “It is not your fault,” I said, sighing a bit, as I pulled Remy's face up with one hand. “I really wanted you there, but since you are here now, I will forgive you...” I said, feeling very tired, but still guiding Remy's face closer to mine. I really felt so very disgusting and tired at that moment, but more than anything else I felt love for him. Remy, the one who came to me and apologized. The only one who promised me that this should have never happened. Taking initiative and gaining control of his emotions for the first time that day, Remy finally leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine. It was forceful, somewhat more so than I was used to than him, but it was a tender kiss that I readily responded to. It truly felt as if it had been fifty to a hundred years since I last felt a kind touch or a tender kiss. In that way, Remy's rough kisses were quite welcome. Bracing his hand on one side of the bed and the other on my shoulder, he began to nibble and suck on my lips causing me to blush. It really felt very nice. Soon he was running the tip of his tongue along the seam of my lips, silently asking for entrance. I did not grant it immediately, I made him wait patiently, teasing him by kissing his tongue while not opening my mouth ((an amazing talent, I know)). Although, after no more than a few moments of oral begging, I opened my mouth slightly and extended my own tongue and eagerly allowed it to play with his. It is quite an exquisite feeling, I must say. The wrapping and wrestling to try and touch and sense as much of that person as you possibly can. There was no fighting for dominance, as we both were just far too happy to be with one another to play such a game. For a moment, Remy broke the kiss and stared deeply into my eyes, forcing me to do the same. His eyes were almost an equal color to my own, a bright and brilliant blue, though I was aware that his held more color and vibrance than mine ever did. He gave me a horribly pathetic and scared look and I just had to ask him what was wrong. Though, I denied him the honor of asking with a sentence. He could have a sentence fragment. “What?” I sighed, returning him a look of doubt. “We won't ever have to be apart again, will we?” he asked, his look becoming even more pathetic, if that was at all possible. “You know I can not promise such a thing,” I returned, a little agitated. “I know,” he said, lowering his head onto my chest again, though not breaking eye contact. “Just promise me, huh?” “...” I remained silent, searching deep into his eyes. What I saw were eyes that were slightly different ones from the ones I had seen on the last days of school. These eyes were more hardened against the world, more aware of how very cruel the world was. This destroyed me. This ordeal had stolen away some of his naivety and innocence. I wished more than ever that I could take it all back. “I promise. We will not have to be apart ever again.” And, although I did not wish it or want it in anyway, a tear rolled down my face and I did not wipe it away. - - - - - Authoress Note: Ooo... So, this chapter was, you know, all not with the Arty molestation, so you guys must be happy, yeah? Um, yeah, it's basically the rescue/aftermath chapter. I promise to delve deeper into Arty's physical and mental problems in the next chapter, when he returns home and interrogates Butler as to where the hell he was. However, for right now, just take solace that the Rapist has been chased off for the moment and Artemis and Remy are all lovey again. Much love, Sleepy.

A well placed kick to the temple? Grab the steering wheel? Open the door and jump? These thoughts and others raced through Alex’s mind as they flew down the streets of London. He desperately wanted to get back to the café. If Tom was hurt, then it was his fault. After all, they had jumped through the window right next to the bomb. Even though the big guy—Butler—had pulled them into the kitchen, the plaster and cement and glass had landed on them. But Alex didn’t attempt escape. He wasn’t willing to risk getting pumped full of holes by the giant’s Sig Sauer. Once was enough to last a lifetime. He would just have to wait it out and hope that an opportunity of escape would present itself. He tried to flex his left hand, and winced. At least two bones were broken. And the boy in the backseat had smiled when he had reacted to pain. Why? Who was that boy? He was younger than Alex it seemed, yet employed this huge man as bodyguard, and was obviously smarter than the average teenager. Just his vocabulary was evidence enough of that. Alex stared out the window, and he suddenly realized where they were: the Kingsway Hall Hotel. So this is where they were staying. They were only about three kilometers from MI6 headquarters. If he could somehow get out of the hotel, he could get to the Royal and General building, tell Mrs. Jones about the bomb, and be safe while the professionals dealt with the problems. That is, if he could get out of the hotel. Getting past the giant bodyguard would be difficult, but not impossible, as Alex had learned from previous experience. Nothing was impossible, just highly improbable. (1) Butler pulled into the line for valet parking and got out; handing the keys to the young man that had run up. Butler then went around to the passenger side, opened the boy’s door, and then let Alex out. Butler didn’t take any chances. He held on tightly to Alex’s wrist, making sure that there was absolutely no way Alex could bolt. They then went into the hotel. Alex, who was extremely reluctant to enter the hotel, dug his heels into he ground and fought the whole way between the car and the entrance of the hotel. He knew that his efforts were pointless, but if he wanted to escape, he had to lower his captor’s guard first. Pulling and resisting weakly might hopefully make Butler think Alex’s capabilities as nothing more than that of a normal teenager’s. Alex was sure he looked awful, with his clothes all dusty and ripped, but nobody gave him a second glance. He was with paying guests, rich ones too. Nobody would look at him. It wasn’t their business if their guests came back with somebody who looked as if he had dove headfirst into a vat of glass and flour. Even in the elevator, Butler did not loosen his grip on Alex’s wrist; despite the fact that there was nowhere Alex could run. The circulation in his arm was pretty much cut off and Alex desperately hoped that his hand would not have to be amputated due to the lack of blood. The trio finally reached the right floor and the doors of the elevator slid open. The room was on the 16th floor. Room 1604. Alex stored the room number in his memory for future use. The suite was immense. There was a living space, two separate bedrooms, a bathroom, and a small kitchenette. It almost looked like a small apartment, although, none like Alex had ever seen before. A large flat-screen television hung on one wall of the living area, opposite a large imitation of a da Vinci. If Alex had to describe the suite in one word, it would be expensive. Butler shut and locked the door behind them. The pale youth who employed Butler immediately went into the nearest bedroom, closing the door behind him and leaving Alex with the bodyguard. “You might want to go get cleaned up,” began Alex. He knew it was futile and completely pointless, but he could at least try to get Butler to leave, “Wouldn’t want that kid to fire you over something as ridiculous as looking dirty.” “He wouldn’t,” was Butler’s reply. Alex nodded and plopped down on the couch. Sitting down in an enemy’s lair without invitation was something that was out of character for him, but he was so exhausted after everything that had happened in the last thirty minutes that he didn’t care. It was too much work to stay alert. And plus, thought Alex, I don’t think they want me dead at the moment. I’ll have time to escape later. Resting his chin in his palm, he stared out of the window in the general direction of the café. He really needed to get to Tom. He might be hurt. Maybe still unconscious. Despite being reassured by the bodyguard, Alex did not feel any better. For one thing, he didn’t trust his kidnappers at all. Butler sat down on the sofa across from Alex after doing a small sweep of the room. Checking for bugs, Alex figured. Or bombs. Although, Butler didn’t have to worry about bombs here in the hotel room. Whoever threw that bomb wasn’t after Butler or the boy. They were after Alex. He had truly hoped that, after MI6’s threat, they would leave him alone. Instead, they had lulled him into a false sense of security, and then attacked. Alex mentally chastised himself. How could he have left his guard down? He knew better than that. He knew that there would always be someone out there who wanted him dead. And it seemed that this time, it was a few particular someones. Because etched into the metal of the small, disk-like explosive had been a scorpion. Scorpia was back in play. o.0 (1) A quote from “The Princess Bride”. I couldn’t resist : ) —rmiller92

Chapter Four: Falling Apart At the Seams I never hurt anyone. Not really, anyway. I certainly never went about searching for people to injure. I usually listen to ... I never listen to people, but I also do not go around picking arguments. I will only argue if I am absolutely sure I am right, which I usually am. However, all this makes me wonder; How did this happen? Being the fairly upstanding Irishman that I am, how did it come that I would be so deeply violated by a man who held the face of a trusted friend? What kind of cruel and ironic God would bring this kind of punishment down upon my head? More importantly, just why? Not, 'Why did he kidnap me?' not, 'Why did he molest me so?' just, 'Why me?' That is all I wanted to know... I, the prestigious Artemis Fowl, boy genius and self-proclaimed expert on fairies, was sitting uncomfortably, quite obviously naked and cold, on the rusted grated metal that had long ago began to rub away at the skin of my ass and thighs. How did I fall this low? Where was Butler? Was he looking for me? What about that man? When would he come back? What would he do to me when he did come back? What would I do? What could I do? My mind ran in intracable circles. Meaningless circles that traced and retraced steps already taken. I do not know how many hours I spent like that. I do not know how long I worried and fretted about that man. I do not know if I can describe the feel of disgust that covered my entire body. I just know that, for a small moment in time, I felt vulnerable, terrified, and helpless and I never wanted to feel that way again. It was then, that I really began to loose it. However, I would truly loose it a few circles later... After I got past then, I came to the next then and that man was standing over me again. ((1.)) “All rested up?” he asked me, still wearing his grin of victory. He had full power of me, he was sure of that and I believed it to an extent, as well. “Why that face?” I asked, wanting to know. It had been what hurt the most, more than anything. When all was said and done, I had to look into Butler's face after all that. “Well, that's quite a tale in and of itself, isn't it?” he asked, leaning down and leering at me. He was going to hurt me again. I could tell easily. I shook as quietly as I could, but he still caught it. His grin widened and I had to drop my gaze. I could not stand it, that face. Why in the world would he have that face? “Why?” I asked again. “Well, how about this, little boy, if you do something for me, I'll tell you why I have your bodyguard's face,” he replied, reaching down, grabbing my chin, and forcing it upwards so that I was looking directly into his eyes. My trembling was fully visible by now. “What? What do you want from me that you have not already taken!” I spat, angry now. He had taken such a dear part of me, what else could he possibly want? Would I even be able to give it without breaking? “How about one of the most valuable things a young person like yourself has to give?” he asked, putting it off further, but lowering his face ever closer to mine. “Damn you!” I quite literally spat, forcing him into pulling back fiercely and slapping me hard on the face while he desperately tried to wipe the spit off his face. By that point, I did not really care, but it did calm me down like I supposed he wanted. “What do you want, you bastard?” I asked, still glaring and feeling/tasting the blood pooling in my mouth and running down my chin as I said it. “Your virginity, of course! You're a boy genius, aren't you? Thought you would have figured that one out by now...” he said, looking down his nose at me and sneering. “Not. A. Chance. In. Hell,” I said slowly, emphasizing every word. It was one of the only things I had left. He could not have it! “Hm... No chance, huh?” he said, in mock speculation. “Then how about this,” he hissed, hunching down and grabbing my face again, making the spot where he hit me throb steadily under his hand. “You'll give me your virginity and I'll tell you why I have Butler's face. How does that sound?” he asked, breathing on my face. His breath was absolutely rancid. “And, my other options?” I asked, staying calm. “What other options?” he asked innocently, swiftly pulling a colt .45 from beneath his jacket and putting it to my temple. A pretty direct explanation, if I do say so myself. “And the Princess' reply?” he asked in his sing song voice, letting go of my face, but leaving the gun where it was. I simply bowed my head. He would understand I gave up. I cherished my virginity and the small remainder of my pride that was left with it, but those were not more important than my life at the moment. If I could just survive, I might be able to see their faces again. All those people who made me who I am... “Good boy,” he said, pulling me from my thoughts and removing the gun from my head. “Have a nice nap, then,” he finished pleasantly, smiling falsely, and swiftly pulling a seringe from an inside pocket and shooting me full of sedatives. -Somewhere Off the French Coast Line- Remy Altman sat stiffly on the deck of the snipper ship Excalibur. He had been waiting all day for his boyfriend to call him, but there was no call. There were no text messages and there were no voice mails. This alone would not have rattled him, if it was not for the strange dream he had had the night before. In this dream he had stood stock still and watched as Artemis was raped. He could hear himself screaming, thrashing, clawing at his stationery form, but there was no reaction from himself or his lover. Artemis did not make any noise and he did not beg. He simply cried quietly as that huge man violated every part of him. The look he gave him afterwards, when the man was finished and bloodstained sheets and a broken Artemis were all that remained, made him feel like breaking himself. What was happening? Where was Artemis? That man, why had he looked familiar? Where had he seen him before? He was sure he had seen the rapist just a short while ago, but where... Then, it came to him, right there against the port railing. The man that had picked up Artemis that day. The one Artemis had hidden him from. He was the man who had raped Artemis and covered him in blood and tears. Shit... “Uncle!” Remy cried, leaping from his place on the deck and dashing towards the bridge. “Stop the boat! Dock somewhere, anywhere! It doesn't matter, but I have to get off!” -Location Unknown- Smells like detergent. No, smells like sweat, and blood, and semen. Or, maybe a mix? I was not sure what it smelled like... It did not really matter, as long as I was concentrating on something other than the length pumping inside me, threatening to tear me apart. Like a jabbing knife. Like a thrusting javelin. Like anything painful or unpleasant that you have felt in your life. Just pain and a violence that fills you to brimming and leaves not, but empty space. I laid there, completely prone, absolutely exposed on starched white sheets. My ankles were high in the air, dangling over his shoulders. He grunted as he shoved in and out, his hands gripping my thighs so as to leave a horrible red mark. My wrists were suspended above my head, to one of the headboard's bars with wire. There was a deep blood stain there on the top of the pillow from all the movement I was doing. Blood was also running down my back from where we met. He had had the kindness to wear a condom, but had not cared enough to use anything that would smooth his entry. Therefore, I was thoroughly torn from within. Blood also ran from my chest, where he had bitten my nipples, hard. Of course, there was the dried blood, as well, on my face from where he hit me many times. “Umph,” he grunted down at me. “You're so tight. Delicious.” I did not reply. I stared determinedly at the stain on the wall that looked terribly close to feces. I was not making any facial expressions. I knew that, because I knew I would have felt the dried blood crack if I had. I also had not been making any noise, though I might have been screaming under the deafening roar of our bodies moving the rusted bedsprings. I might as well have been a mannequin or a blow-up doll, if it was not for the tears running down my face. “Ah! Damn!” he exclaimed, cumming inside me and making me jolt and grimace (the blood cracked and my grunt practically echoed). I did not know if I could take it. I did not know if I had. Had I made it through, or was there more? I did not remember all that I was supposed to do, just that he was going to hurt me. That is all I knew for sure. “Sigh. Seriously, delicious...” the man trailed off as he pulled out and wiped himself off, smiling to himself as he did so. “You don't look happy, though. Did you not enjoy yourself, Princess?” he asked, laughing as he plopped down next to me and stared into my eyes in a mockery of after-glow. I tried to hold back the quiver in my voice, but in the end I could not even form a sentence. Just, “No... I... hate... no...” “I see. Well, it's my turn to return my part of the bargain right? ((1.)) You still want to know, right?” he questioned, mocking me again. I could not tell you what his expression was, though. I had had my face hidden in my shoulder, refusing to look at that face. Finally, at this, I moved my head in an affirmative nod, hoping he would not ask for more than that. “All right, then,” he said, leaning down to nip at my ear before whispering into it, “I used to work with him a good twenty years ago. It's because of him that my wife is dead. Now, it's my turn to torture his lover ((2.)). But, that doesn't really explain my face, huh?” he said, pulling away. He sat back and I pulled my head out from behind my shoulder. Was he going to explain his face or not? If he did not, then I really might break. That, or kill myself. After a moment, he reached up to his neck and pulled at the skin there. Shit. He pulled away his face in a huge layer to reveal a very different face beneath. “Much better, don't you think?” he asked, laughing as he discarded the mask into the corner. I could not help it, I started to sob. I could not take it. I really could not. It was then that I realized he had finally broken me. - - - - - Authoress Note: Myep, there was the long awaited sex scene and brain snap. You had to know it was coming. Like any respectable uke could survive a kidnapping and rape! This was also a short chapter and that makes me sad in my heart. However, I now actually have a basic storyline. You might have noticed how this started out very cute and adorable, then suddenly turned dark? There's a vague reason for that. I needed a storyline and that was my favorite one for the moment. Until next time! Much love, Sleepy. 1.)) Don't worry, it's not some cliché evil twin thingie. Hee... As cliché as the rest of this fanfic... goes off to sulk 2.)) Oh yeah, you know how all the yaoi pairings are of Artemis and Butler. That's where that comes from. Since I'm afraid I might not explain this later, here it is! Mr. Abductor was able to easily see that Butler is more to Artemis than just a bodyguard. He is also aware that both Artemis and Butler are gay ... Or, at least, bi. ...I'll explain the gay Butler thing in much later chapters, maybe. Therefore, he came to his own conclusion that Artemis is Butler's lover. Only time will tell if he was right or not...

Chapter Three: Sore Throats and Nausea When I awoke, my head was spinning and I felt deathly sick. For a moment, I could not remember what had happened, but it soon came to me. I remembered that I was attacked in the shower by a man whom closely resembled Butler, but who had the eyes of a one without a heart. So, I was probably kidnapped by a cold blooded killer. Oh, dear. Probably not good. As for why he kidnapped me, there could be a hundred reasons, quite literally. He could be holding me hostage and waiting for a ransom, he could be working for one of my father's rival syndicates, or perhaps some kind of vaguely justified terrorist. Either way, it did not really affect my situation that much. Whichever it was, I would be the one who would have to liberate myself from this obscure prison. Truly obscure, as well. I could not see a thing, the place where I was being held was pitch black. This being so, there was no information to be gathered about my surroundings. At least, not for now. It was time to examine my own condition. Other than the mind-blowing nausea, I had quite a few other problems. For one, my whole body ached, so I was not handled very well while unconscious (I dreaded to see the bruises I had) and in the back of my head was a splitting pain that made me fear there may be some kind of meat clever wedged in there. Also, my hands were bound to a thin metal bar behind my back and my mouth was gagged, though not with a cloth. It was a strange kind of ball gag that was attached to a stiff piece of rectangular leather that was strapped over my mouth; not very attractive, no. Wherever I was, they did not want me to make noise. Once I was finished trying to break the ropes around my wrists (by thrashing about for a bit), a door far ahead of me opened, revealing where I was for the first time. It was some kind of large factory or power plant. The structure, on the whole, was a cylindrical shape and there was all kinds of rusting and out dated machinery hanging from the ceiling, walls, and towering up from the ground. Did I mention that I attached to some other strange piece of machinery that shot up straight from floor to ceiling and that all that connected me to the newly opened door was a thin grated catwalk. Not very heartening, no. “Good morning, Artemis Fowl. I do hope you found your nap restful,” the silhouette spoke to me, laughing at his own ill conceived joke. I did not find it important enough to sacrifice my pride and grunt at him through the gag. “You are awake, aren't you? You were putting up quite a fight a few moments ago, though I don't think you'll get out of those ropes. The knot is somewhat complicated,” he gloated some more, taking his time making it down the catwalk towards me. Oh well, he did tell me one useful tidbit; there was a camera with a night lens somewhere in these ruins. “You know, you should probably try upgrading your security system. All I had to do to get in, was walk right through the front door.” 'God damn it all ...' I thought to myself. It was only then that I remembered that I had left the front door open to try and catch a breeze while I was in the entrance hall. I supposed that, in my frustration and Butler's melted brain, we had left the front door open! “You look frustrated,” he said, leaning down and getting closer to my face. I could almost make out his features, though the light was still too weak. He looked so familiar. I was almost sure that I had seen him before... “You wouldn't happen to need some help with that, would you?” he asked, reaching out with a large hand to rub it down my bare chest. Now, this only demonstrates how nauseated I was, that I did not even notice that I was still naked and vaguely damp. “Mert amf hemm mf maf!” I grunted at him. Roughly translated, it meant 'Get the hell off me!” Even with my enraged grunting, the encroaching hand continued to travel the length of my body to the part of my body that only myself, my mother, and a few nannies ever touched. “Mermf!” “Groaning already?” he asked, working his hand up and down and beginning to unzip his own pants. I have to admit that, by this point I was absolutely terrified. If Butler had completely missed this man's entry and exit into my home, then that probably meant that it would be days before he found me. No one was coming to my rescue. I was going to be raped. All the blood began to rush to my face and I could feel this strange heat pooling in my lower stomach. I was not an idiot. I knew what that meant, but hated to think that this disgusting man would be the first person to make me cum. In all my dreams, it was Remy or a some other choice persons that was there at that moment, not some stranger. “You're already dripping wet. I guess that's to be expected. You probably thought that you were above this sort of thing,” he grunted out (what an asshole). Afterwards, he moved up and straddled my hips bringing his own large erection, which he had been stroking with his other hand, against mine and grinding against it hard. He was much larger than me, I could feel it easily. At first the pace was slow and leisurely, but it soon picked up to a back breaking one and forced him into bracing his hands on the railing to either side of himself. With the extra leverage, he began a circular movement that slammed his balls against mine and sent a jolt of pain up my erection. By that point, I felt that I could no longer breath and periodically gagged on the ball in my mouth when it would obstruct my heavy breathing. It was getting to the point where I knew I either had to die or cum. No matter how disgusting, the latter sounded more appealing. That being said, I did. “Mmf!” I let out a pathetic little moan, as all my muscles tightened and white stuff spouted from the darkness to land all over my stomach and the mystery man's shirt. “Well now, if you're not going to be civilized and wait for me to cum with you, you'll just have to tie up the loose ends you left yourself,” he explained, getting up on his knees and beginning to undo my gag. Although, before he pulled it out of my mouth, he covered it with his hand and said to me threateningly, “You better learn some self control and keep quiet. If you don't, I'll be forced to slice off that agile little tongue of yours. At least, it better be agile, or it won't be in your mouth for very long.” And, with that, he slammed his length into my mouth and past my tonsoles. After the initial shock, I swallowed and felt him shiver and tasted blood. As for his threat, I had no idea if he was telling the truth. I had no way of examining his face for a hint to tell if he was bluffing, but his voice told me that he was telling the truth. He sounded cold and half-insane,so I did not want to test him. I wanted to live to the end of the summer, so that I could go back to that useless school and see Remy's face again. I tried to hold back the sobs as I made my decision, but they simply would not stop and I felt him shiver again at the vibration. The thought of him taking such enjoyment out of degrading me made me want to gag again, but I held it back. Swallowing once more, I tried swirling my tongue along the underside of his penis. All along from the base I could feel a throbbing vein that made him moan every time it was given attention, so I tried to focus my attack there. He started to get more intensely involved, putting his hands against the large transponder (the large machine I was lashed too) ((1.)) and gasping and panting shamelessly. It was hard to concentrate. His pubic hairs were against my face and when I breathed, I could smell the must of his sex fully. That is, when I could breath. His foreskin was pressed against the back of my throat, obstructing my oxygen intake and torturing the sensitive skin there, rubbing it to bleeding with his unconscious rocking. Still, the most humiliating and uncomfortable thing of it all were the tears streaming down my face and the fact that he must have had a perfect view of them streaming all the way to my jaw bone. “Fuck, you're good,” he said, rocking more violently in my mouth. In a few moments, he was fully thrusting in and out of my mouth, causing blood to flow down my throat and the sobs to become more violent. His thrusting was rubbing my tonsoles and the back of my throat completely raw. It hurt to breath and hurt twice as much to sob. The sharp inhalation felt like swallowing so many thumbtacks. At the point where I thought that I simply could not take it anymore, I felt him cum. His sperm shot straight back in my throat, hitting the huge sore spot there and causing me to gasp and feel even more pain. He thrust a few more times, holding onto the back of my head with fingers entwined in my black hair before he finally stopped and pulled his limp member away. The moment my mouth was free, I began to wail. I had completely forgotten his threats of a moment ago about making noise, or maybe I just did not care anymore. My whole body felt achy and violated. I was covered in cum, my own on my stomach and the stranger's on my chin (I had had presence enough to spit as much out as I could), there was blood in my mouth, and the crying refused to stop. “Shut your mouth!” he screamed, slapping me across the face. I never thought that slaps could hurt too badly, but this one did very much. My head snapped to the side and I could feel a terrible hot pain spread across my cheek. But, it had the wanted affect. The sobbing stopped, though the tears were now falling like huge clear pearls onto the grating of the catwalk beside me. I could not think, I could not move, I did not even know if I was still alive, though I thought I must have been at some point.((2.)) “Do you think you can behave yourself?” he asked, cleaning himself off. I could not reply, but I managed a half-hearted sob. “Good boy,” he laughed, leaning down to within a few inches of my face and cocking his head to the side to kiss me. As he did so, his face finally fell into a beam of light that illuminated his features. It was the last thing that I could take. He had Butler's face. I looked straight into the face of a Butler with heartless eyes as he slipped his tongue into my mouth and invaded my dignity just once more. His face gloated to me a silent glory. Then, he stood and he left. All I did was cry in an in human voice until the darkness came to take me away to a world of nightmares filled with violating hands. - - - - - Night was falling on the Fowl estate when Butler finally ventured back into the household, giving in to the fact that he did not have the skills nor the patience to fix the God forsaken central air. He had dreaded facing Artemis all day, but he had also given in to the the fact that the only thing he was interested in was making up with Artemis and, perhaps, pulling a smile out of his permanently sour face. Climbing the stairs, he noticed something unusual. There, on the crimson red carpet, were large wet marks, like a huge dead fish had been dragged through the hall and right down to the front door. Shit, the front door. Realizing what might have happened, Butler took off at a run for Artemis' room. As he approached, he saw that Artemis' door was left open and that the wet trail led through there. Rushing into the room and following the trail to the bathroom, Butler found the room in disarray, with water everywhere and bottles left on the floor. Then, there in the bathtub, he saw it. There was a large bloodstain in the bottom and on the faucet with small black hairs mixed within. “Artemis!” Butler yelled. But, it was no use. He was no where to be found. - - - - - Authoress Note: Myep. Artemis got raped. For the readers, I do apologize. There was almost nothing int this chapter for you to read. I'm afraid that the next chapter will be fairly close to the same. For those of you on Whoopee! You got a sex scene, and the first that I had written in a while, too. In that way, they didn't go to far, but they're gonna go all the way in the future. Once again, I encourage reviews, as I tend to get depressed about stories and tend to not update them when I don't get reviews. 1.)) Why, yes, I randomly made up a mechanical sounding name with the help of my spell checker. So, sue me ((Don't really. All I have is my PS2 and my computer and neither work very well -sweat drop-)) 2.)) 'Twas a sex scene there, yep.

Chapter Two: Finally, A Use For Cellphones. Two days. It has been two days. I have not seen him for two days and I am already prepared to tear my own hair out in worry. He had told me that he was going on a trip on his uncle's yacht around the Italian coast as soon as he got out of school, but he should still have reception, a working wireless phone, a bloody telegraph, something! But, no. Here I sit, all a mess to all who see me, and for what? A normal and senseless little boy! It is useless to worry, I know that, but it is so very hard no to at the same time. He promised he would contact me as soon as he got onto the water, but I have yet to hear a thing. I would suppose that's enough to worry anyone, right? “Artemis?” Butler shook me out of my inward rant. “Are you doing any better?” he asked in a worried and somewhat shamed voice. Oh, yes. Have I forgotten to say that the airconditioning was busted at this time? You see, I was a mess and that was apparent to everyone, but everyone thought that I was such a mess, because it was so ungodly hot within the mansion and I refused to go outside and try to find a breeze (I burn easier than an albino on the roof of the empire state building). Therefore, I could be found sitting in the entrance hall, on the floor, with my shirt open and my shoes off in front off an ancient box fan. Just hold that image in your mind for a minute ... Alright, we may move on. “A little better,” I replied, looking up from my spot on the marble floor (it really was blissfully cool). “Have you fixed the central air, yet?” I asked, cocking my head to the side. He knew what I meant. I had insisted the moment that it broke that we call a repair man, but for some unknown reason Butler insisted that he could fix it. As die kindern ((1.)) might say, 'Whatever'. “Not yet. I just can't seem to find the center of the problem, though I know I must be getting closer. It's only a matter of time, now, Artemis. Just wait a little bit longer,” he reassured me with a little smile. Although, he did not do very well with that. The whole time that he was speaking to me, his eyes kept bearing down on me. It made me quite uncomfortable, as you might guess. I knew that I must have looked quite out of place, but he had seen me in much stranger situations. Not to mention the fact that he himself insisted on walking about without any shirt on. I had already scolded him, but he had retorted that it was very hot working on the central air out in back of the house, when I hardly thought it was quite that hot. Butler was not the kind of man to walk about showing so much skin. He was very professional about the way he acted. That is why his behavior was so very strange today. Oh well, perhaps the heat was beginning to overheat his central cortex or some sort. “I ... suppose I'll get back to work, now,” he said, somewhat insecurely. I could not blame him, I was purposely being cold and ignoring him, putting my face close to the fan to get as much air as I could. I refused to make eye contact and I was in no way interested in stroking his ego. “Are you waiting for him to call?” Butler asked, seemingly from out of nowhere. His question caught me off guard, since I had thought that he had left already. More than that, I could not really figure out what he was talking about for a moment. Then, it hit me. I had not had my cellphone outside of arm's reach since school left out. It must have been obvious to Butler, as I rarely used my cellphone, except to keep in touch with him. In that way, it must have been very strange. Now, to decide to answer him or continue to ignore him... I did not get the chance to decide, as my cellphone began to sound out Betoven's No 9 Symphony. Suddenly, my hand, acting completely on it's own, whipped out and snatched the cellphone up in a single breath. How that happened, I do not know ((I think he's becoming more insane. Oh dear)). “Hello?” I asked immediately. I could hear Butler shift his weight and felt his eyes pierce into my back. I really wished he would not act like that. “Hey, Artemis! How's your summer going?” asked a familiar voice. Although, not the voice I thought it would be. “Fairly well...” I said, already feeling disappointed. This was not Remy calling, it was one of Remy's acquaintances that I had accidentally made friends with. This boy's name was Jack, and he was very outspoken, yet extremely intelligent for his appearance. Skinny, pale, and with outrageous spiked, cemented, and frosted hair, I had thought he looked absolutely ridiculous. However, I enjoyed having conversations with him and absolutely loved the fact that he had the strength of heart and mind to butt heads with me and not let it affect his image of me. That was very big of him; he acted much older than his age, quite pleasantly. “Glad to hear it, glad to hear it! Doing anything interesting, or are you just sitting in front of the computer, flaming poor little Rocket Scientists?” he asked, laughing at his own joke. “It is much to hot to do anything that has anything to do with flames...” I said, falling onto my back and enjoying the cold feel of the marble against my skin. As I did so, I heard Butler slowly walk towards me and sit down nearby. He was going to survey my conversation, quite obviously. Ha! He thought I was talking to Remy. “Hm? You can't tell me the 'Everything-state-of-the-art-Artemis' doesn't have a basic window air conditioner?” he asked, with that underlying laugh in his voice again. “It does not seem that way. At the moment, the air is broken and it is oh-so-hot here, you know?” I said, fanning myself a little and putting on that classic playful voice. I got my satisfactory fidgeting from Butler, so I decided to keep it up. “What's this? Playing a joke on someone, Artemis?” he asked. There we go, good Jack, you always were quick! “Mmm... Maybe. Want to play too?” I asked, rubbing my feet together playfully. Unfortunately, I got a dis-satisfied grunt from Butler, so I only thought it would be right to turn around and give him a glare that said, 'Go away'. “Of course, of course. So, what are you doing to keep cool, Pretty Baby?” he asked, putting on his flirt voice as well. “Well, I have stripped a considerable amount, because of the heat...” I said, faking thoughtfulness. This time I got Butler to bark out my name in reprimand. “You know, you should really be telling this to Remy...” Jack said, falling out of character easily. “Pfft!” I shot back, already pushed out of character as well. Sitting up, I forgot that Butler was there and said, “What kind of whore do you think I am? We are not like that at all.” “Artemis! Give me that!” Butler yelled, with surprising projection, and snatched the small phone out of my hand bringing it to his ear to hear “Remy's” reply and probably scream at him. “I'm just saying that you shouldn't go playing these games behind Remy's back. It would make him sad to see his immaculate Artemis behaving in such a way, you know?” It was almost pure luck that I could hear Jack's reply. It was probably a combination of the fact that I was practically crawling on top of Butler to get the phone back, the echoing ability of the hall, and the volume of the phone, which I had turned up to full so that I absolutely would not miss Remy if he did call. ... Which he had not, yet. “See? It is not Remy, I was just acting the idiot! Give it back to me,” I demanded, stepping back and holding out my hand expectantly. “Humph!” Butler harrumphed, and handed over the cellphone grudgingly. “Sorry, Jack, I have to go now,” I said, still ruffled from Butler's behavior about this whole thing. “You in trouble?” he asked simply. “Perhaps, I will tell you later ... Maybe,” I said, and hung up before he could reply. “Who was that, Artemis?” Butler asked, using that same tone he had used in the car the day before yesterday. That way he had of talking to me when he was really upset truly rubbed me the wrong way. “Perhaps when you are in your right mind again and your frontal lobe has re-congealed we can speak, but until then I would like to not hear from you,” I whispered fiercely, refusing to allow this to become a true-to-life argument. There was no argument to be had, after all. Butler was clearly out of his mind that day, so there was no point in trying to speak to him. No point that I saw, at least. I stormed up the stairs and walked into my stifling hot bedroom and quickly regretted moving higher into the house. It was much hotter a level up, than it was on the ground floor. Still, I would much rather be roasting than orally duking it out with Butler down below. I hated fighting with him deeply, as I considered him my closest friend, but his behavior today made me question that and that scared me, quite frankly. He was acting so differently from his normal self, it threw me off rather badly. “Damn this heat!” I spat under my breath, finally giving in; ripping off my shirt and flopping down in the middle of the floor. The carpet made my back itch, but the fact that it was covered in sweat helped to ease the irritation just a little bit. I felt so nasty and dirty, I wanted to take a shower, but to take a nice cold shower, I would have to get up and walk all the way across the room to the bathroom and take off my pants. What a bother, I would have to create a portable teleportation machine one of these days... Still, a shower would have been nice and my back was beginning to get carpet imprints in it. Oh, but how I loathed to walk. Yet, I would not have to wear pants in the shower. Forget it, the shower won. Getting up with a groan, I began to make the long trek to the shower, shedding my pants on the way and throwing them in the general direction of the bed, leaving my silk boxers on, just in case... Then, just as I reached the door to the bathroom and the thoughts of icy cold water on my back were reaching their peak, my cellphone, which had been laying on the floor somewhere, rang. Well, I was almost at the bathroom, but I was also still in mind-numbing worry over Remy. But, what if it was just Jack again? But, what if it was Remy? But, what about my goddamed shower! Meanwhile, the phone had finished off it's first round of Betoven's 9th and would soon be picked up by my voice mail. 'Fine! You win,' I said to myself, letting go of the doorknob and running ((more like vaguely hurried, but I won't argue with him)) back to the middle of the room. “Hello?” I asked, disgruntled. If it was Jack, I was going to murder him slowly and painfully. “Sorry, am I interrupting something?” Remy asked. 'Praise the Lord!' I thought silently, and I did fall to my knees clasping the cellphone in both hands and saying the Lord's Prayer quickly. “Artemis? Hey, are you there? Um, did I catch you at church or something?” I could hear coming from the small speakers. “No no, I am sorry! I was just glad that you called. What happened? You said that you would call sooner than this...” I whined a little. I had faith that he was not distracted by some blond bimbo, but it still stung that he might not need me as much as I needed him. “Well,” he began, a strong marking of a long story. “Long story short;” See what I mean? I know him to well. “The phone on the boat was down, so I wasn't able to call you out on the water like I had been planning too. I had to wait until we docked at the next port town to call you. I'm really sorry about that, but I did miss you. Did you miss me?” he asked playfully. He knew that I hated when he tried to play love games with me, but lately he had been getting me to play with him more and more often. “Not even a little bit,” I answered promptly. It was best to make him squirm first. “No way! Not even a little tiny microscopic bit?” he asked. “Truthfully?” I inquired back, giving in. This would make it end easier. “Of course! How much did you miss me?” “All of this waiting for you to call has made me stir crazy! You have to promise me you will not make me wait like that again. I am not very patient, you might remember?” I said, truthfully. He could always tell when I was telling him the truth, so this would hopefully bring him back from love-land. Remy paused for a minute and I was afraid that I had been to truthful. I wondered if that was to clingy of a comment for him. “I promise,” he said quietly. “I'll definitely call you every time we come into port,” he said determinedly. Oh dear, I believe I stoked his ego a bit too much... (-sweat drop-) “Anyway,” he said, trying to transition from his previously serious mood. “How has your summer been so far?” he asked cheerfully. “Not very well,” I said. “It can't be that bad without me, can it?” he asked, chuckling. “It is not that, you idiot! The air conditioning is broken and you interrupted me just as I was going to take a shower!” I pouted to him. “Is that why it took you so long to answer? You can go ahead and start, I'll hang up when you're ready to get in and call you back tonight!” he suggested happily. “Sigh, that sounds like a good idea,” I said, pushing myself up off the floor and dragging myself back to the bathroom door again. “Anyhow, your summer...?” he said. “Oh yes, I meant to tell you I just got into a fight with Butler.” “That big scary guy?” he asked. “Yes. He is usually very steadfast, but today he has been acting so strangely ... I have to admit, it has thrown me off quite a bit.” “That's to bad. I hope there's nothing wrong with him,” he said, worriedly. “Yes. Really, I think he is just angry about you and I. I told him about our relationship in the car after school left out,” “Oh? How did he take it. Not too bad, I hope.” “No, not that bad at all. At least, he has not tracked you down and given you electro-shock therapy.” “Aha, real funny,” Remy said, sarcastically. “It would be if I was kidding. Still, it does not explain why he is acting the way he is today... Ah! That is quite nice and cold.” “Your shower's ready?” he asked. “Yes, sorry. I will have to let you go.” “Alright, just answer me one question; How naked are you right now?” “-click-” I hung up on him. There would be no more love games for him today. As I stripped off my boxers and stepped into the shower, I had to slowly ease myself under the spray. It was a very refreshing cold, but a shocking one none the less. I was fully under the water when I heard someone open the door to the bathroom quietly. “Butler?” I asked, poking my head out from behind the shower curtain. Or, rather, I tried to ask, but never got the chance as my mouth was covered with a rankly smelling damp cloth. I saw a stern face and icy blue eyes and then everything began to spin and turn black. I do not remember what happened after that. - - - - - Authoress Note: Dun, dun, dun! That's 'uffing right, I left you at a cliff hanger! Now, I demand reviews! You shall review me or I shall devour your souls, or, the next best thing, I will not post the next chapter. And, no! I will not accept someone posting five reviews! That doesn't count! I want five people to review this fan fiction, or I shall not post the next chapter ((which is already under construction, but I'll keep it to myself anyway – I'm evil)). More than that, I want you guys to become involved! That's right, this story can take one of two turns from here. One leads towards Remy, the other towards Butler. Depending on the number of votes I get for either in the next week or so, will influence the flow of the story. Much love! 1.)) Whoa Artemis spoke German! That's right auf Deutsch (in German) that means “the children”. Yes, apparently, Artemis thinks he's an old man...

A well placed kick to the temple? Grab the steering wheel? Open the door and jump? These thoughts and others raced through Alex’s mind as they flew down the streets of London. He desperately wanted to get back to the café. If Tom was hurt, then it was his fault. After all, they had jumped through the window right next to the bomb. Even though the big guy—Butler—had pulled them into the kitchen, the plaster and cement and glass had landed on them. But Alex didn’t attempt escape. He wasn’t willing to risk getting pumped full of holes by the giant’s Sig Sauer. Once was enough to last a lifetime. He would just have to wait it out and hope that an opportunity of escape would present itself. He tried to flex his left hand, and winced. At least two bones were broken. And the boy in the backseat had smiled when he had reacted to pain. Why? Who was that boy? He was younger than Alex it seemed, yet employed this huge man as bodyguard, and was obviously smarter than the average teenager. Just his vocabulary was evidence enough of that. Alex stared out the window, and he suddenly realized where they were: the Kingsway Hall Hotel. So this is where they were staying. They were only about three kilometers from M16 headquarters. If he could somehow get out of the hotel, he could get to the Royal and General building, tell Mrs. Jones about the bomb, and be safe while the professionals dealt with the problems. That is, if he could get out of the hotel. Getting past the giant bodyguard would be difficult, but not impossible, as Alex had learned from previous experience. Nothing was impossible, just highly improbable. (1) Butler pulled into the line for valet parking and got out, handing the keys to the young man that had run up. Butler then went around to the passenger side, opened the boy’s door, and then let Alex out. Butler didn’t take any chances. He held on tightly to Alex’s wrist, making sure that there was absolutely no way Alex could bolt. They then went into the hotel. Alex, who was extremely reluctant to enter the hotel, dug his heels into he ground and fought the whole way between the car and the entrance of the hotel. He knew that his efforts were pointless, but if he wanted to escape, he had to lower his captor’s guard first. Pulling and resisting weakly might hopefully make Butler think Alex’s capabilities as nothing more than that of a normal teenager’s. Alex was sure he looked awful, with his clothes all dusty and ripped, but nobody gave him a second glance. He was with paying guests, rich ones too. Nobody would look at him. It wasn’t their business if their guests came back with somebody who looked as if he had dove headfirst into a vat of glass and flour. Even in the elevator, Butler did not loosen his grip on Alex’s wrist; despite the fact that there was nowhere Alex could run. The circulation in his arm was pretty much cut off and Alex desperately hoped that his hand would not have to be amputated due to the lack of blood. The trio finally reached the right floor and the doors of the elevator slid open. The room was on the 16th floor. Room 1604. (1) A quote from “The Princess Bride”. I couldn’t resist.

A well placed kick to the temple? Grab the steering wheel? Open the door and jump? These thoughts and others raced through Alex’s mind as they flew down the streets of London. He desperately wanted to get back to the café. If Tom was hurt, then it was his fault. After all, they had jumped through the window right next to the bomb. Even though the big guy—Butler—had pulled them into the kitchen, the plaster and cement and glass had landed on them. But Alex didn’t attempt escape. He wasn’t willing to risk getting pumped full of holes by the giant’s Sig Sauer. He would just have to wait it out. He flexed his left hand, and winced. At least two bones were broken. And the boy in the backseat had smiled when he had reacted to pain. Who was that boy? He was younger than alex, yet employed this huge man, and was obviously very smart. Just his vocabulary was evidence enough of that. Alex stared out the window, and he suddenly realized where they were: the Kingsway Hall Hotel. So this is where they were staying. They were only about three kilometers from M16 headquarters. If he could somehow get out of the hotel, he could get to the Royal and General building, tell Mrs. Jones about the bomb, and be safe. That is, if he could get out of the hotel. Butler pulled into the line for valet parking and got out, handing the keys to the young man that had run up. Butler then went around to the passenger side, opened the boy’s door, then let Alex out. They then went into the hotel. Alex was sure he looked awful, but nobody gave him a second look. He was with paying guests. Nobody would look at him. It wasn’t their business if their guests came back with somebody who looked as if he had dove headfirst into a vat of glass and flour. The room was on the 16th floor. Room 1604.

Butler reacted instantly. As soon as he saw the Rider boy grab his friend, he overturned the table, shoved Artemis toward the kitchens, and then dove for the boys who had crashed through the window. Grabbing them roughly, he hauled them towards the kitchens as well. The explosion blew apart the café. Butler threw Rider and the other boy, who had been knocked unconscious from hitting his head, and pressed Artemis against the fridge door, blocking the Irish boy’s body with his own. Rubble and glass battered Butler’s back, but he held still, and protected his charge. The whole fiasco was over in thirty seconds. Butler pulled away from Artemis, who was coughing. Pulling his pistol out of its holster, Butler cautiously peered around the corner. The café was destroyed. The entire front wall was blown apart, leaving the room open to the street. Dust hung in the air, choking anyone who dared to breathe it. The bodies of the two teens that had been at the opposite end of the room from him and Artemis could barely be seen. Closing his eyes, he turned back into the kitchen. Artemis had moved from his position against the fridge, and was now examining the two English boys. Rider looked up at Artemis, dazed, but he didn’t make a move to get up. Probably assessing whether or not he had any broken bones. The other boy was starting to regain consciousness. “Are you alright?” Butler asked, holstering his weapon. “Yes, Butler, I am fine,” replied Artemis coolly. “After all, this isn’t the first time somebody has tried to kill me, and definitely not the first time I’ve survived a bombing. Although, I am wondering why you just threw me back here, then gallantly went to save these two. Can you answer me that? You also left me in the café. Alone. Very un-bodyguard like. Why, Butler, did you think to do that?” Butler stared at his employer and friend. “I…don’t know. I’m sorry.” “Forgiven. Sometimes it’s useful that you can’t let children die.” Butler sighed. The look on Artemis’s face frightened him slightly; the boy had a new plan. “What are you thinking?” “He moved quickly, this one,” was Artemis’s answer. His toed Rider’s limp hand with his loafer. “I wonder…” Artemis bent down and gingerly lifted Rider’s arm. Examining it, he smiled and nodded. “I want you to train him.” “What?” Butler hardly ever questioned Artemis, but this surprised him. Only Artemis had the ability to do that. “Train him, Butler. He could be me. In situations where something dangerous or potentially deadly could happen, he would take my place. We are about the same size, no? And, his hair could be dyed to match mine.” Butler frowned. The plans Artemis concocted had never involved kidnapping. Well, never kidnapping anybody human, anyway. A body double? Did he truly believe that his was in so much danger that he needed a double? What was this business arrangement really about? “Pick him up, Butler. I believe it is time for us to leave.” Butler snapped to attention and did what Artemis had told him. Picking Rider up, he tossed him over his shoulder, and the large man and the Irish boy carefully left the café through the back door. o.0 Several blocks away, Artemis and Butler got into a sleek black car. Rider was placed in the front seat next to Butler. The boy just stared ahead, blinking, and mumbling something under his breath. Butler felt bad for him. Because he had decided to save the boy, he was now central in one of Artemis’s little plots. Butler started the car, and pulled away. As he turned a corner, Rider listed slightly to the right, then caught himself. He looked up at Butler, scowling. “Where are you taking me?” Rider asked. He tensed up, looking as if he were about to pounce. Butler didn’t worry. In the small space, the boy wouldn’t pose much of a threat. Outside, though…well, Butler had heard stories… “Don’t worry, Rider. You’re safe.” Rider glared at Butler, then folded his arms and stared out the window. He stayed this way for several minutes. “Tom?” he asked finally. “Safe,” was Butler’s reply. Rider nodded. “Is that our new friend?” came Artemis’s voice from the back. The glass divider rolled down, revealing Artemis sprawled out on the leather seat, looking extremely comfortable. “Welcome back to the world of the coherent.” All Rider did was stare out the window. Butler had a feeling it was going to take a lot of persuasion to get Rider on Artemis’s side.