Hello! This is a Challenge story between me and my co-author! Basically, we will post two chapters at a time. You will never know which one is writing which. There is a poll on our profile so you can choose which one you liked the best!

The first topic: Torture...

"You didn't really think I'd let you leave, would you?"

Her back thumped as it hit the wall. His breath down her neck, once so alluring, now was sickening to her, more so because of the smell of

Irish whiskey on his breath.

"You have to," she gasped, pushing against his shoulders as he slid his arms around her waist and pressed himself against her. Completely defenseless and pinned by the drunk and hurting man, there was almost nothing she could do to get away as he leaned in to kiss her again.

He growled when she turned her head slightly and broke the kiss, even though he hadn't lost complete contact with her lips. He shuffled forward slightly with one foot, stepping on hers with his full body weight. "Now," he asked into her skin, as she cried out, "what do you think I have to do?"

"Ahh... my foot.."

"I'm aware," he answered. "And when you succumb to me, I'll get off and we can do... Other things..." His lips found the soft flesh on her neck, and he nipped at the skin not at all gently as he ground the heel of his foot into the top of hers.

"Never... Going to happen," Holly snarled through gritted teeth.

"Well, we'll see," Artemis answered. "You'll break eventually."

He lifted her from the wall and threw her across the room, leering. Her head hit hard, and she saw spots as she hit the ground. Chuckling, he lifted her to her knees and, almost tenderly, grabbed her arm and twisted it backwards, but not to the point where it actually hurt her until he was sure she was conscious. Then he jerked back and smiled sickly as her shoulder cracked and snapped, fractured and clearly out of place. However, when she didn't cry out, his smile dropped.

"Brat," he snarled, bringing his foot up and kicking her in the same shoulder.

This time she couldn't contain it; she screamed. Artemis smirked as he watched her fall, shaking and writhing. "You deserve it, bitch," he snarled.

Holly gasped as she writhed, staring up at him in shock and pain. He had never once called her any names like that. Ever. Even before, when they first met and were archenemies, or when they seriously hated each other. "Artemis. . "

"Shut up," he snarled at her. "Just shut up. Now. If you're not going to address me as Master Fowl, then do not address me at all. Just endure it without speaking to me." He paused when he realized how that sounded. "That is not to say endure it without pleading. I like hearing you plead." His walked briskly over to her and dropped beside her, grabbing a fistful of her hair and pulling her back against him. His trusty pocket knife pressed into her throat, and she cried out softly. "Beg," he purred in her ear, and she knew he was taking sadistic pleasure in this.

"Please," she gasped, suddenly wishing he would just slit her throat and get it over with already.

"Please what?"

"What do you want to hear?" she said desperately. Her mind was clear enough that she realized, that, had it been a little clearer, she probably would have known exactly what he wanted to hear, but she was in too much pain to form too long a thought at the moment, which meant that this was not going to go over well. He would probably have to tell her, and she would probably have to repeat it. . . assuming she could force her hurting head to hold in what he told her long enough to repeat it correctly.

As she thought, this statement didn't go over well. Holly was suddenly picked up, the knife jerked away, and she was thrown back into the wall hard. Her back cracked, and she moaned. I knew this wouldn't go over well with him, so why the hell didn't I perform the ritual before I came? she wondered as she forced her eyes back forward in her head. It was painful, and her eyes still remained unfocused, but at least she now could see when another blow was coming from the dark, blurred form looming over her that was Artemis. . . .even if she couldn't tell for sure where it would land because she wasn't sure which of the three arms that seemed to be attached to him were real.

Artemis raised his arm to swing in for another blow, when the door to the room burst open. Butler and Juliet rushed in. Butler grabbed his charge's arms and drew them behind his back, pulling him away with all the gentleness he could manage in his state of rage and confusion. Juliet saw this and made to go for Holly a split second too late.

What Butler didn't see was the broken whiskey bottle on the floor beside his charge's bed, the remains of the whiskey that were inside when Artemis smashed it in rage split in a puddle a few feet behind him. The manservant stepped back, stepping into the puddle unknowingly, and losing his footing for a moment. The split second it took for him to release one of Artemis's arms to steady himself on the bed frame was the only second needed for Artemis to stab his manservant in the wrist with the knife still in his hand. It was the one, unknowingly, that Butler had freed. And the second of shock and surprise where Butler grunted and jerked his hand away, throwing him off balance again, was enough for Artemis to launch himself forward in front of Juliet, onto Holly, and move in for the killing blow, driving the knife with all the force he could into her heart.