Disclaimer: I do not own Making Fiends or any of the characters, Amy Winfrey and Nickelodeon do.

A/N: This chapter contains past versions of Vendetta, which may make it a little confusing. If I am referring to the present Vendetta she is 'Vendetta', and if I am talking about a Vendetta from the past she will be called 'Little Vendetta.'

Chapter Two: Yon Spectre of Ye Olde Christmas Past

'The curtains of his bed were drawn aside, and Scrooge, starting up into a half-recumbent attitude found himself face to face with the unearthly visitor who drew them'- Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

Vendetta tossed and turned in her sleep, Charlotte's words drifting around her head.

'You will be haunted by three spirits…three spirits…three spirits…'

A ghostly tapping sounded, and Vendetta sat up in bed with a start, and looked towards the window- the source of the tapping.

There was nothing there but the branch of an old, dead tree, brushing against the glass.

Vendetta turned over and settled back into the blankets.

'The sooner I destroy Charlotte the better,' she muttered. 'How dare she disturb my sleep with stupid ghost stories!'

At that moment the doorknob rattled once, twice, again.

'Argh!' Vendetta leapt up in fright, then regained her composure. 'Charlotte!' she called. 'If that is you, go away and get out of my house, or I will destroy you with fiends!'

The rattling grew louder, and Vendetta dived under the covers as her bedroom door slowly creaked open…

An eerie, purplish glow filled the room, and an oddly familiar voice called

'Be this the home of yon fiend-maker?'

Vendetta sat up at once, thoroughly annoyed. 'What! You are not a ghost! You are just Malachi! Go away, and stop pretending to haunt me, or I will unleash fiends on you!'

But Malachi, glowing unusually, and with a wreath of holly in his hand, made no attempt to leave.

'Ah,' said he, in his Elizabethan lilt, 'I only be-eth Malachi in yon real-life, this be thine dream, and I come to thee as yon Spectre of Ye Olde Christmas Past. I hast come to show thee visions of thine life, so thou mayest…'

'FIENDS!!!!' Vendetta screeched. 'Attack him!'

A group of vicious guard dog fiends charged into the room, razor teeth bared, but as they drew near to Malachi's violet glow they yelped in fright and sped off in the opposite direction, howling.

Vendetta was shaking with rage. 'Leave me alone!' she snapped. 'Stop glowing in my house!'

'Thine fiends cannot stop me,' Malachi insisted, and as he did so Vendetta felt a little shiver go through her, as the horrible realization dawned on her that he was right.

'I hath been sent to take thee hence, to yon world of thine past!' As he spoke the window blew open, and both children began to rise into the air.

'What is going on?!' Vendetta demanded as the y began to float towards the window. 'Return me to my room this minute!'

But her protests were ignored as the pair sped through the deserted streets of Clamburg, toward a great white light.

'What is that horrible glare?' Vendetta asked as it loomed closer and closer.

'Tis the light of thine past,' the Malachi-spectre replied as they hit the light. Vendetta wailed and put her hand over her eyes, expecting to be consumed by the fiery glow but instead she found herself drifting down toward snow-covered ground, and a place she knew all too well.

'What! Why are we here?' She looked up questioningly at Malachi, who was perched atop a sign that read Muffin Elementary School. It hadn't been called that for such a long time- the sign had been chewed to pieces by a giant cat some five years ago. But that meant…

'We really are in the past…' Vendetta marvelled. 'And it's…snowing!' she scooped up a handful of snow, fondly remembering past winter days, when she had pelted her classmates with snowballs. Since she had taken control of Clamburg, it had stopped snowing, and she found now that she had missed the cold, white ice…

'Cometh hence,' the Malachi-ghost instructed, hopping down off the sign and heading towards the school. Vendetta, scowling at being ordered around, trudged after him. They walked on past room one, two, three, four, and turned a corner, they were heading for the back of the school, where Kindergarten and the older grades worked.

As they walked, Charlotte noticed a tall, pale, bespectacled man heading toward them.

'Look!' Vendetta observed aloud, more to herself than anyone else. 'It's that stupid teacher!'

And indeed, it was Mr. Milk, looking quite cheerful, and with a head full of hair. 'Ah, Mr Gumpit!' he called out in a rich, strong tenor voice, and dashed past the time-travelling children to catch up with his friend.

Vendetta looked after him, confused. 'He didn't even notice us!' she remarked.

'True, for he be but a shadow of what was, no soul here canst see or hear us!' Malachi said as they stopped outside the Kindergarten room.

Pushing open the door, Vendetta stepped inside the room, breathing in the nostalgic atmosphere. A second later Malachi had joined her, entering through the wall. A group of schoolchildren were colouring in Christmas cards, while a plump, mint-green teacher smiled as she supervised.

'Now, my little ducklings,' Mrs Minty began. The children looked up from their work. 'It's only a few minutes until home-time, and then it will be Christmas vacation!'

The class cheered.

*

Half an hour later, Vendetta was still in her old classroom, watching the scene.

There was only one child left- a small, green girl with pigtails and Bulgarian accent.

'Now, Vendettata,' Mrs Minty said, patting Little Vendetta on the head. 'Little buttercake, where are your parents? Aren't they coming to take you home?'

'I don't know,' Little Vendetta said sadly, sighing. 'They are probably still at work. They care more about work than they do about me.'

Mrs Minty was unsure exactly what to say.

'Well…that's…nice, dearie,' she said at last, retreating to her desk and absorbing herself in a knitting magazine.

Vendetta felt her heartstrings twisting as she watched the sorry sight, remembering how it felt to be ignored and forgotten…

*

It was getting dark- the sun was setting outside and Little Vendetta was still at her desk, her head rested on her hand, waiting in vain for her parents. Mrs Minty had long gone, after half-heartedly reassuring the small girl that her parents would be back soon, and now Little Vendetta was all alone.

Vendetta suddenly realised what happened next…

The door swung open and a slender, sixteen-year-old dark green girl came rushing in.

'Veronica!' Vendetta called, but Malachi hushed her.

'Yon maiden heareth thee not,' he reminded her.

'I thought Mother and Father might have forgotten you,' Veronica said in a thick Bulgarian accent, putting her arm around Little Vendetta's shoulders. 'I came as soon as they got home and I saw you weren't with them!'

The sisters walked hand in hand out to a lime green sports car, and hopped in.

'Let's go home,' Veronica said to Little Vendetta as they drove away.

Vendetta sighed.

'Ah, my sister,' she murmured. 'The only one who ever cared about me…'

'Come' commanded Malachi from by her side. 'There be-eth more to see!'

*

The landscape around them became very blurry, they were spinning fast and the next thing Vendetta knew they were in her own house. Vendetta beheld herself, six years old, crouching on the end of her plain bed and shaking from head to foot.

Judging by Little Vendetta's age and the time of year, Vendetta supposed this was about a year after the last vision.

'Veronica just has to be alright' Little Vendetta said out loud, but her little hamster just continued eating and her fat, red cat just yawned, curled back up on her pillow and continued to snooze.

Vendetta realised with horror that this was just after the car crash….

Little Vendetta climbed off her bed and crept down the stairs. Her parents were at home for once, sitting in the living room.

'So irresponsible,' Viktor, her father was saying. 'Veronica knew we had important sales conferences coming up, and she thoughtlessly went and got herself put in hospital…'

The phone rang.

'Hello?' Violetta, her mother answered. 'Is that the hospital? Yes, I see. Thank you. Goodbye, dearie.'

Violetta hung up and turned to her husband. 'Veronica didn't make it,' she said, not a hint of remorse showing in her voice.

Viktor groaned. 'Oh, perfect, we'll have to take another day off for the funeral!'

*

The next thing Vendetta knew, she was in the Clamburg cemetery. The guests were heading off home, but the younger version of herself remained behind, leaning on the coffin and weeping.

'Oh, Veronica!' the small girl wailed. 'What will I do without you? How can I live with no-one to love me?'

Vendetta felt hot tears running down her cheeks. She turned her head, so that Malachi wouldn't see.

Her vision became blurry again, as the vision changed.

She was back in her house. Little Vendetta was sitting on the foot of the stairs, while her parents fussed around with paperwork.

'At this rate, with all these days off, we'll never catch up!' Viktor grumbled.

'I know, dear,' Violetta agreed, 'This is so inconvenient! Why couldn't Veronica have waited until after our conference to die?'

Vendetta felt like screaming with rage and pain, but was beaten to it by her younger incarnation.

'You don't even CARE!!' Little Vendetta screeched, jumping up. 'You don't even care that Veronica is dead! You don't care about anyone but yourselves!!!'

'Vendetta, dear,' her mother hushed. 'The grown-ups are very busy right now…'

'I hate you!!!' Little Vendetta shouted, storming out the house. 'I hope I never see you AGAIN!' she slammed the door as hard as a six-year-old was capable of, and ran off down the path.

By this time Vendetta was sobbing uncontrollably. 'Let me go home now!' she ordered Malachi. 'I don't want to see any more!'

'Mine time be not over yet,' Malachi insisted. He waved his hand and the scenery changed again. 'There still be more visions yonder…'

*

It was a stormy afternoon as Little Vendetta ran down the hill, not caring where she was going. Vendetta watched as her past self charged through the woods, tripped and fell. It was then that the small girl noticed and eerie green light coming from a tree hollow. The little girl reached inside and pulled out a large, battered box with the words Fiend Mix inscribed on the side, and a chunky instruction book.

'What is this?' the child thought aloud, sitting down and studying the items carefully. After a while, a malicious grin spread across the little girl's face, and she let out a wicked laugh.

'With this power, they'll never ignore me, never forget me again! Heh heh heh heh!'

The next few visions came swiftly, one after each other- Little Vendetta dumping her cat into a bowl of potion and watching it grow, feeding her hamster a glowing concoction and beholding it morph into the loyal servant she had today, shrinking her parents with a shrinking slug and triumphantly locking them in a cage…

The last vision found Vendetta watching from a rooftop as her younger self climbed up onto a high building and announced herself to the town as its new leader, before unleashing an army of beasts upon them.

'Oh my!' Mr Milk quivered, running his hands though his hair and finding that a huge chunk fell out.

'My buttered stars!' Mrs Minty exclaimed.

Little Vendetta cackled wickedly.

'I've HAD ENOUGH!' Vendetta shouted to Malachi. 'I do not want to see any more visions! Take me home! NOW!!'

With a click of his fingers, Malachi brought them back to the present time, and Vendetta's room.

'I stayeth not, 'tis blasphemous,' Malachi said. 'Yon second spirit approacheth!'

And he was gone.

Vendetta stood, shaken for a while, and then climbed back into bed. 'I do not want to see any more spirits tonight,' she muttered, pulling the covers up around her neck. All of a sudden, a bright light came streaming in from under the door. Vendetta knew it was the second spirit, but had had quite enough of hauntings- she was still very upset at having her dreadful memories of her sister's death awakened.

A faint arrow materialised, and pointed to the door, flashing.

'Go AWAY!' Vendetta shouted, but it persevered, and the green overlord knew she had no choice but to go and see.

Tiptoeing nervously to the door, Vendetta took a deep breath in anticipation of what lay on the other side, and slowly turned the handle…

To be continued….