1. Chapter 1 (1/1)
disclaimer: i do not own artemis fowl or any of its characters.
(a/n) italics=flashbacks
old beginnings
5:47 a.m. fowl manor:
the luminous moon shone its radiant light through the windows of the castle like manor that held ancient riches, classical paintings, hi-tech security, prestige minds, deadly bodies, fond memories, and deep scars. the sound of feet dragging on the wooden floors in the specious halls resonated in the otherwise deafening atmosphere. a lone figure limped into the den and made its way to the grand piano that stood as the center piece for the room. artemis fowl ii seat down in front of the beautifully crafted instrument and stared with a lost gaze at it before picking up his pale slim fingers and placing them on the keys. he begin playing, drawing an elegant story in crimson upon the white canvas that was laid before him as blood dripped down and smeared itself upon the black keys. (the blade ran deep inside its victim's neck severing the tissues that held the precise liquid of life behind its walls; a shaky
eath let go as a soul was released from its confines.) ominous notes floated from the body of the beast, heavy eyes closed in a raging meditative state and hair falling upon them as the ashes from the cigarette in his mouth fell in his lap.
(flashes of white light foreshadowing the darkness that was to come. screams pierced the night and grunts of pain and anguish were coughed out of lungs filled with lead from the bullets that had dug themselves in them. bodies everywhere, on the floor, on the counters, coming through windows. mobsters, feds, robbers, russians, assassins….whoever they were they were good.) the pace of the mournful music increased as pain racked the body of its composer
inging out old hatred and views of the world. (eyes filled with shock and terror looked on as their loved ones were chopped down. shaky hands picked up the heavy hammer of death, once clean now soiled by the flesh of their enemies taking vengeance on the immoral bastards that dared cross them.) butler, mother, father…no tears fell from his eyes, only from those of his little
others.
wounds that he hoped would never befall upon them now deformed their mind and souls and old ones were opened in him once again. the blackness started engulfing him….it was back….the despair, the loneliness, the anger and hatred. his fingers were just scarlet blears now pounding out a masterpiece and screaming agony from the piano's strings. the smoke from the cigar seemed to take form and molded itself into grotesque images that emerged from his mind that were all too real…all too close to the truth. (he watched his parents lying dead upon the marble floors, he glanced at butler fighting on the staircase before he dropped right in front of him, he pointed the barrels at the blank faces of the men who tore his life apart and he tore theirs. he sliced apart his parents' killers with the dagger from the metal knight's armor standing erect but doing none of its duty. he felt juliet's fury as she flew from person to person leaving more than her mark, he hide his siblings and tried to shield them from what they would inevitable see and experience, he made her take them upstairs and cry themselves to sleep when the act was done. he reached in his father pocket and pulled out his pack of smokes and his lighter-a nasty habit the first fowl had picked up after his traumatizing incident.)
the moonlight dissipated as a new light filled the sky. the orange rays from the sun surfaced from the treetops and feel upon the darkness that sat at the bench. his mind caved in on itself and he was set back in his rightful place, he had achieved that past self that he so desired when he started changing all those years ago. he was 10 years old all over again, with an older and sharper mind ready to inflect new pains his younger self could never dream of. (the feeling of his foes blood on his hands was riveting, he enjoyed their screams, he relished in their pain, and he took pleasure in destroying every fiber of their being. he would have never imagined this was what killing was…maybe holly was right. no, she was right. he was going to find them, whoever they were, he was going to do the same thing he did tonight but worse, he was going to take their family, their
others, their sisters, their mothers, their fathers, and all their loved ones. they would regret the day they ever tried a fowl and remember his name for centuries to come as they burnt in hell.) the sun rise spoke of a new day…. a new year… with old beginnings.
(a/n) happy new year's…