Disclaimer : I own nothing
Foaly stared at the monitors. Displayed on the screens for all to see were the memories of Artemis Fowl the Second.
Holly had flown off just a few minutes ago. She needed to calm down. She was very against the Mud Boy's mind wipe. Problem was, the Council was for it, so there was nothing Foaly could do.
Foaly reluctantly turned around, signaling to the techies that they could take Artemis back to the surface.
Just before turning off the monitors, Foaly let his hands sweep across the keyboard, saving the boy's memories onto a disk. He would watch it sometime. Maybe he would find something on it to cheer Holly up.
Back on the surface, around midnight, Artemis Fowl the Second awoke, and looked out at the stars. They were like sequins on black velvet-a fabric that, if sewn, would be the most beautiful dress on Earth.
He tried to imagine Holly wearing it, before realizing that there was no Holly. Why had he thought there was a Holly? Was Holly important?
Artemis drifted to sleep, making a mental note to investigate why he had been convinced, if only for a second, that there was a Holly.
The next morning, Artemis awoke last in the house. Butler was always up early, and Juliet had left early that morning with Angeline to go take his father to a doctor's appointment, then go to a spa. His father, Artemis Fowl Senior, was still not 100% after his time in Russia.
These thoughts gave Artemis pause. He felt that he should know more about what had happened to his father in Russia. But that was nonsense-how could he know more? His father wasn't yet comfortable speaking of it, and Artemis himself had definitely not been in Russia at the time of his fathers rescue.
Artemis didn't feel like leaving the confines of his room just yet, but a detour to the bathroom would be necessary- his eyes were so heavy with sleep, he would need a good splash of cold water awaken himself completely.
But when he did just that, something peculiar happened. Two contact lenses fell out of his eyes and into the sink. They matched his eye color perfectly, but Artemis didn't wear contacts.
With a frown, he scooped them up and headed to his bedroom, and more specifically, his laptop.
After a little research, he found that he himself had ordered these contact lenses, along with two other pairs, presumably for Juliet and Butler. Artemis scowled. Why could he not remember this?
A single memory chose that moment to drift back into his head like an origami paper crane on the wind.
This was not the first time this had happened.
Last night, he had thought there was a Holly, only to realize that this Holly either was a real person that he had just forgotten, or she was a figure of his imagination, (a sure sign that he was finally slipping into madness-Butler had told Artemis before that this would happen if Artemis continued to be so paranoid, yet at the same time fearless enough to take on dangerous projects).
Artemis pulled up Google and typed in Define: Holly.
The computer whirred for a second, and then several definitions popped up.
Holly: Any tree or shrub of the genus Ilex having red berries and shiny evergreen leaves with prickly edges
That was what Artemis had expected to see. So why was something nagging him in the back of his mind?
Artemis sighed. He was in a mental war with himself. What a disgrace. He needed to calm down somehow. He looked around his room for a distraction.
There-a painting by Leonardo DaVinci.
Butler always said Artemis's forgeries were just like the original. Artemis always disagreed.
Artemis quickly set up a paint set. Only this time, he wasn't planning on copying something else. No, Artemis was going to paint something original.
His paintbrush wove and danced across the blank canvas. Artemis wasn't sure what it was, just that he felt compelled to complete it.
As he painted, the sun outside his bedroom window rose over the green hills, slowly illuminating the sky.
Butler strode up the stairs. Master Fowl was generally up by now, with some new scheme. It was now eleven o'clock, and Butler was worried. He had tried to distract himself with patrolling the hallways, checking the security cameras, anything useful that also kept his mind off of Artemis's absence.
After all, there was nothing unsafe about Artemis being in his room.
Still, Butler was worried.
He approached Artemis's room slowly and quietly so as not to disturb Artemis should he be in the middle of an experiment.
Butler put his hand on the doorknob, and turned it slowly.
When he opened the door, he froze.
Artemis sat in front of an easel, not reproducing any painting Butler had ever seen, smiling in contentment.
Butler took a closer look at the painting. It was of a girl-about three feet tall, but with adult proportions. She had auburn hair hacked short, and a wide grin plastered across her face. She held a gun of some sort, and it was pointed outward, so that anyone who gazed upon this painting would stare down the barrel. She had pointy ears and hazel eyes. The picture had a frame of painted holly leaves.
The picture stirred something in Butler. Did he know this girl? No, the familiarity was false. Artemis could have painted this from pure imagination.
Artemis set his paintbrush down. It was finished. His painting. He had been trying to grasp anything in his head that might lead to the knowledge of her identity. He had found nothing in his head, but without knowing how, he had known exactly the right way to portray the female in this painting of his. How peculiar.
He turned around and saw Butler, staring at him.
"Good morning, Butler. Beautiful day outside, isn't it?
Butler was staring in a peculiar way at the painting. "Do I know that girl?" he asked Artemis.
Artemis didn't want to answer that question because he didn't know. He most definitely would find out, but for now he would just dodge the question.
"Pretty, isn't she? Well, Butler, I have no plans to leave the manor today- you needn't pack anything."
Butler listened to Artemis's speech. For once his employer didn't have some plot up his sleeve. This was new.
Before leaving Artemis to his work, Butler took one last look at the painting. Those eyes were familiar. Butler just knew it.
Artemis spent the entire day in his room. Every once in a while, Butler would come up and talk to Artemis-check to make sure Artemis wasn't in danger, more like. The day was uneventful after the painting, though it haunted Butler the way its eyes seemed familiar and dangerous. Artemis, on the other hand, was mesmerized by it.
Artemis decided that day that he would find out about this mysterious girl. He would find out about her, and then find her.