Greek (an Artemis Fowl fanfiction) (On Hold)

A Meeting in a Dog House

Ireland is a beautiful country, that can easily be said. In the city of Arklow, Ireland's beauty is displayed perfectly with rocky beaches and a quaint but thriving town. It was in the city of Arklow that this hidden Artemis Fowl story began.

As you read on, you will discover why, exactly, it was hidden, why you haven't read anything about it before.

Artemis sighed, raking a pale hand through his pitch black hair. Butler walked alertly behind him, just as annoyed as his principal. Yes, as stated previously, they did think Arklow to be a pretty place, but the reason they were there was not making either of them jump for joy.

They were headed toward a meeting, and not just a meeting, a meeting with Foaly. You see, the pesky centaur had, over the past year, began to not only look into technology, but had taken a liking to medical science, which, for Artemis, meant constant meetings in random locations. This time, it was, of course, Arklow.

“Where are we headed, Artemis?” Butler asked, speaking more like a friend and less like a manservant. Artemis's mismatching eyes flicked across his bodyguard's face, quickly snapping back to the sidewalk before him.

“There's a motel on the next street,” he responded, shoving his hands into his pockets. “We'll be meeting Foaly and whoever he's brought along this time in room 6.” Butler nodded, not bothering to ask how a centaur managed to get into a motel room without any raised eyebrows. Knowing Artemis and Foaly, it was extremely incomprehensible to anyone with an average IQ level.

The weather in Arklow had decided to take a dramatic turn that day. The day before it had been a delightful warm, but today it was bitterly cold. Artemis had smartly dressed in a trench coat, which, of course, he put on over his casual suit. His steps were brisk, his head held high, all traits that could easily apply to the young Mr. Fowl. You see, to Artemis, holding himself in a manner like that showed that he were proud of himself, that he knew his place. This was no false thought, of course. After all, Artemis is indeed a juvenile genius.

Being only nineteen years of age, one would suspect that Artemis was yet to start his life, that he was just getting used to things. If you've read his book series, then you'd know this was wrong. We're talking kidnappings, robberies, time travel, even death, you name it, Artemis has most likely done it. (Unless it's house work. He's not as lowly as to clean up messes and prepare meals. He's Artemis Fowl, not some butler.... Sorry, Butler. {As this story continues, you will find the former set of parentheses to be rather ironic.})

“We've arrived,” Artemis muttered, sharply turning toward a run down motel to their left. The Dog House Motel was it's name, and suited for a dog it was. The siding was peeling, and what remained had an odd green tinge to it. Artemis begrudgingly opened the door, wiping his hands off on his jacket when he was inside. Butler followed in suit, noticing quickly that the man running the front desk was snoring. Perhaps it wasn't very hard to sneak a centaur in the place after all.

Scoffing at the sleeping bloke, Artemis picked his way across the tiny excuse for a lounge and into a thin hallway. After walking past several sad-looking doors, they eventually found themselves in front of room 6. Artemis straightened himself, lightly knocking on the door twice. Merely seconds later, the door opened to reveal Foaly, who quickly motioned the two inside.

Several fairy scientists sat on the edge of motel beds, some even on the floor. Artemis caught sight of Holly, who was almost acting like an escort to the centaur, and crossed the room to stand next to her, leaning against the wall. She gave him a small smile, nudging him with her elbow. “Have your memories been coming back to you?” she whispered. As mentioned in the latter section of the book series' finale, when Artemis's soul was transferred to a clone body, his memories didn't follow. Artemis returned his friend's smile.

“Most, yes. Most of my childhood is fuzzy, but from the age of nine until now, it seems I've remembered everything.” He would have said more, but Foaly began his introduction, informing every uninterested person in the room just why exactly they were there.

To start things off, Foaly allowed himself a smile. “Welcome, my friends, to this scrapheap of human lodging I have called you to.” He removed a small remote from his jacket's pocket, pressing its singular green button. Instantly, there was a 3D image hovering in the air. Foaly made his way around it, smiling sheepishly. “This is why.”

The image was of a vile, a cask, if you will. Inside was what appeared to be a green liquid, thin in color, opaque lime. Artemis leaned forward, suddenly interested. He allowed himself to speak. “What exactly about this liquid urged you to call upon us for one of your cursed meetings?”

Foaly paused, rubbing his forehead. “This is what we like to call Madman's Tea. Among those of us studying it, it has been bestowed with many names; The Devil's Elixir, Witch's Wine, Beelzebub’s Beverage, and so on. It's water, you see, that has been heavily tainted with the most dangerous of black magic. Only the most highly skilled dark magic wielders can produce it, and when they do it's to sell. No one but the most cunning of people would ever want to have this liquid in their possession.”

“So this is a warning,” one of the fairy scientists asked, crossing his arms over his chest and scowling.

Foaly smiled ashamedly, nodding. “It seems as though it's been made, sold, and is being used by villains, if you like, all over the fairy community for things like torture.”

Artemis's eyebrows shot up, and he leaned forward. “What exactly does this liquid do?” he inquired. Foaly, without missing a step, pressed another button on his contraption, making a slide appear in mid-air, replacing the diagram of the liquid.

It was a simple list, titled: Side Effects of Madman's Tea.

Holly, Artemis, and Butler shared a speculative glace, returning their eyes shortly to the list, scanning over the rather shocking words. Here, allow me to paint a picture of it to you.

Side Effects of Madman's Tea

(or rather, how it feels to touch the vile stuff)

Victims of the torture have described the feeling in the following ways;

~A feeling of all your breath being ripped from your lungs then shot back inside you~

~Being continuously whipped, cut open, and hit~

~Like the weight of the world is crushing the area of your skin that was tainted~

~Extreme, horribly misery~

Foaly interrupted the shocked gasps around the room with a light cough, which he directed into his fist. “On top of all of this, and this is just describing one drop to, say, the pinkie finger, if you are submurged in the liquid, not only do you experience this times two hundred, the magic in it gives you the ability to breathe in it. In other words, you can be left, submerged, in this for hours on end. If wanted, it can erase memories after certain periods of time in exposure to it, and can make a man the size of Butler,” he explained quickly, pausing to point out Butler to the others in the room, “cry like a baby girl.”

“So,” Holly murmured, crossing her arms, “It is the perfect torture weapon? And we haven't known about it until now?”

Foaly nodded briefly. “That's correct.”

“And, on top of that, it's in the possession of several people, we don't know who, that want to use it to bring horrific suffering to others.”

There was a long period of silence, until, finally, Foaly nodded once more. “Yes.”

This, my readers, is where our hidden Artemis Fowl tale began.