Title: Shattered Sunlight.
Rating: T for teen or Pg-13 because I like to push the limits :)
Summary: Arnold gets a job working as an assistant to a famous writer, someone from his past.
Disclaimer: I do NOT own Hey Arnold or anything affiliated with it I'm just borrowing them for entertainments purposes. No copyright infringement was intended.
Author Note: I'M BACK I just won't stay gone just when you thought it was safe to read fanfiction again :)
Arnold pulled up infront of the rundown gas station, and looked at his map again for the twentieth time. A young boy came out to begin filling his car, and Arnold got out laying the map on the hood of his beat up old nissan.
"Hey kid, can you help me?" He asked, and the boy approached.
"I can try." The kid must be about 15.
"I'm trying to find 146 mountain road...I was supposed to be there...an hour ago, but these backroad are all a maze."
"146? The witch ladies house?" The kid asked with wide eyes.
"I don't know."
"146 is three miles that way, and this is the nearest building, town is eight miles the other way if I were you mister I'd turn around."
"Why is that?" Arnold asked curious.
"They say the woman that lives in that house is a witch. If you go to that house at night you'll never come back. Nobody has ever even seen her. She's lived there four years, and she's never came out of that house. Never."
"She has to how does she get supplies?" Arnold asked thinking he'd found a weak spot in the boys story.
"She hires assistants to do it for her...but they never last longer then three months. What are you going there for mister?"
"I'm the new assistant." Arnold smiled, and the boy backed away from him like he was crazy.
"Best of luck to you then. You'll need it." He turned, and all but ran back into the gas station.
Arnold got back in his car folding his map, and tossing it onto the seat. He thought about what the boy said as he pulled out onto the road. Superstition that's what it had to be there were no witched not in todays times, and his new boss certainly wasn't one.
Arnold was a smart man he graduated top in his college class, but work was slim, and after six months of not being able to find a job he lost his apartment it was then Phoebe told him about a friend of hers. This friend was the famouse writer H. G Pink. The woman was a literary genius, and had mutiple best sellers, and new york times reviews. She was as good as they got her books were dark angsty romances that women loved. She was looking for a personal assistant, and the pay was plus room, and board in her mansion was included Arnold had no choice, but to accept.
He made a left a little way down the road from the gas station which turned him onto a dirt road that led through a large thick forest on both sides. He stared up at the giant towering trees, and drove slowly up the winding road. After a mile or two the road came to a giant iron gate with a brick wall that was at least eight feet high. He reached out, and pressed a red button on a small call box by the road.
"Yes?" an impatient voice answered.
"I'm Arnold Shortman I'm here to see Miss Pink."
"You're late." The voice said.
"Yes Ma'am." He said softly.
A second later the gates swung open, and he drove inside the gate closed behind him, and the house came into view. It was in a clearing but completely surrounded by the fence, and the woods. The driveway widened infront of the house, and a fountain with Angels sitting on it was in the middle. The house stood tall, and dark towering over everything. He got out, and a few ravens took flight. It was chilly, and dark infront of the house despite the sun, and heat the woods kept it all shaded.
The house was three stories high, and gray brick. Large pillars were infront of the door that looked tiny infront of the house. To the right he could see a small glass room. There were steps leading up to the front door, and a few windows. The house looked cold, and dark, and he had second thoughts for a minute before shaking them away. The house looked way to big for one person to live in, but he decided maybe it was warmer on the inside.
He knocked on the door, and a second later it opened. He could make out the outline of a small female figure, but that was all. He stepped into the entry way. It had white marble floors that were spotless, and a giant white staircase leading up to the second floor it took up almost the entire entry way. The walls were a deep brown color with white trim board. A few black, and white photos of scenery decorated the walls, but just like the outside the house gave off a terrible cold feeling.
"You're late." The woman said it was hard to make her out do to there not being lights on in the room, and it being barely lit outside.
"Yes, I'm sorry I got lost."
"These roads...are hard to navigate, but you'll get used to them in time. They can be dangerous at night so windy, and rough." She turned, and walked further into the house he followed.
"Yeah you're way out here. It must get lonely." He offered.
"I'll show you your rooms, and you can get settled in." She said starting up the stairs he followed her, and a sliver of light breifly illuminated her body.
He saw one slender arm holding a glass of what looked like whiskey. A few strands of gold blonde hair, and a black turtleneck. Her outline of her body was classic hourglass, and she walked with a slight sway of her hips. The kind that made him drool. He wanted to see her face, but instead stayed behind her.
They reached the top of the steps, and she moved down a dark hallway the entire house seemed dark, and depressing. She walked past a large oak door.
"That's my bedroom. Never go in there for any reason. Do you understand?"
"Yes Ma'am."
"My study is the third door on the right at the top of the stairs that's where I'll be most of the time. If the door is all the way closed it means I'm busy so stay out. The rest of the time it will be open a crack you can enter then."
"Yes Ma'am...is it just us here?" He asked.
"Yes, The cook quit, and the gardener...well he refuses to even show up. Is there a problem with that?"
"No, it just seems like a lot of house for one person." He said.
"I used to have a maid, but the house was too depressing for her she left me. I do the cleaning myself now with your help of course."
"Of course."
She stopped at a door, and opened it pushing it open.
"This is your room." She flipped on a switch then immediately backed into the darkness of the hallway. He stepped into his room.
Dark blue carpet, with even darker blue walls, and black furniture. His room was dark, but warm feeling. To the left was a king sized four posted bed with black, and silver bed sets. To his right was a couch, and chair, and television. The room was spacious. Straight across from the door were floor to ceiling windows with dark blue curtains pulled closed, and a desk infront of them. Behind the door was a large cupboard for his clothes. A bathroom was behind the couch, and he could see it was large as well.
"Will this room suit you?" She asked.
"Yes It's very nice thank you."
"I'll leave you to get settled, and see you in the morning then." She said softly turning to leave.
"Wait..."Arnold called to her, and she froze.
"Do you need something?"
"Can you come into the light? Can I see your face?" He asked, and he heard her heavy sigh.
She didn't move right away, and he thought she'd ignored him. Then slowly one leg crossed the doorway. Dark blue jeans clung to endlessly long slender legs. then the other leg. Her hips were rounded just perfect for holding onto. A trim waist, and a smaller busted chest covered in the black turtle neck. She had her head down, her blonde hair a curtain sheilding her face, but her hands were white as a ghost where they held her drink. Slowly she lifted her head. Pale white skin, dark beautiful blue eyes, soft pink full lips. Helga.
"Helga?" His voice croaked out. She didn't say anything just stood there looking at him.
"You're my new boss? You're..."He trailed off.
"H...G...Pink." She said, and now it was obvoius.
"I had no clue." He said.
"I know." She took a drink.
It was Helga Pataki, but not the Helga he once knew this one was cold, and calm. Her blue eyes watching him, but her face giving away no reaction. Almost like being looked at by a statue.
"I can't believe this." He said, and she blinked long dark eyelashes.
"Do you want to quit?" She asked her jaw set in a stuborn line.
"No, No." He couldn't he didn't have anything else.
"Then I'll let you unpack, and see you in the morning eight o'clock sharp I want you in my study. Get your own breakfast, and feel free to do as you please tonight. I'll be in my room." She turned, and exited his room closing the door behind her.
Helga Pataki was his new boss, and he was living with her. Life had a sense of humor after all. Arnold looked at the room again. This house was like a tomb dark, cold, and empty. How did she live here alone for so long? He took a deep breath before deciding to make the most of the bad situation. A lot had changed since he saw her last, and maybe she wouldn't be the bully he remembered after all she was a famous author now. She had everything she ever wanted. She had everything she ever wanted, but he still got a sense of loneliness when he looked at her or maybe that was the empty house playing tricks on him. A witch indeed. Helga was not a witch, and he felt silly for almost believing the rumor.
He shook his head, and exited his room heading towards the stairs to get his things from the car. He froze outside her bedroom door, and heard a soft noise. It took him a minute to realize what it was it was crying Helga was in her room crying. His hand shot out to the door knob, but he froze she told him to stay out of her room, and he'd respect her privacy. He stood there a minute longer listening to the muffled sobs, before making his way down the stairs this was definitely not what he expected.
