Author's Note: Hey, everyone. Thanks so much for the reviews! This is my
first HA! fanfic, so I really appreciate it.
Disclaimer: I forgot to do this before, but Hey Arnold! is, unfortunately, not mine. If it was, do you really think that I would be writing stories on FanFiction.Net? I mean, come on, people…
Part II
"Eddie"
Helga awoke with a peculiar sensation and a not-so-peculiar sensation. The first was that something very hard was pressing against her face. The second was that she had a splitting headache.
She opened her eyes slowly, blinking painfully at the intensely bright light, and realized that the hard thing pressing against her face was the floor. Slowly, she sat up and surveyed her new surroundings.
She was in a small jail cell, about eight feet on each side. The walls were stone, and aged and crumbling. So was the floor and ceiling. The light that had been painful when she first opened her bloodshot eyes really wasn't all that strong—it filtered down through a tiny square window with bars set in it, a few feet above her head, if she were standing. There was a door behind her, made of stout, aged wood, with a similar barred window in it.
She looked down at herself. There were heavy iron manacles on her wrists, with rings for chains to be attached, but no chains on them. She was still in her little black cocktail dress, only now it seemed horribly inappropriate, for obvious reasons. It was dirty and torn in a few places, and one of the straps that held it up was broken. Stupid shoddy Gucci workmanship, she thought, giving the dress up for lost. She was also dirty and bruised and suffering from an acute hangover.
Of course, there were more immediate problems. Like the fact that she had been kidnapped and thrown into a jail in Cairo for no apparent reason. Helga hadn't been known as the angriest kid in P.S. 118 for no reason, and she was getting angry now.
Eddie! Who was he? Why did he kidnap her? It made no sense! She had only told him her first name, so he couldn't have kidnapped her for money. Besides, this was a jail. From what she had heard through the grapevine, these places were used for political criminals or people you wanted to torture answers out of.
She pulled herself to her feet and began to push against the stones, hoping one was loose. No luck. The window was too high up for her to reach, and the door was far too secure to break down. She was as tough as she'd ever been, but she wasn't that tough.
"Hey!" she yelled. "Anyone out there?"
There was a thump on the door. "Quiet in there!" a voice bellowed back in a harsh accent. Okay, so there was a guard.
Helga slumped against a hard wall. She was stuck for the duration, obviously. Well, why not wait and see if anyone came to tell her why she was here?
Suddenly she heard footsteps approaching and voices talking in Arabic outside her door. She stood, to await whoever was coming. There was the sound of a bolt being lifted, and then the door opened slowly. Two guards stood there, flanking a very familiar man.
Helga threw herself at Eddie, clawing at his face. He laughed and stepped back as the guards immediately blocked her way with two very large, very scary-looking guns.
"So Sleeping Beauty's awake, eh?" he asked dryly, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
"You bastard," she spat. "Who the hell do you think you are? Do you know who I am?"
"Of course I do, Helga," he said. "Why do you think I…invited you here? Don't you know who I am?"
"A lying snake?" she guessed.
He laughed again. That laugh sounded less and less like Arn—like someone she had known—every time she heard it. "Close. Edward Niles. The biggest smuggler—and poetry fan—England has ever known. Now can you guess why you were taken here?"
"What are you talking about?" she asked suspiciously.
"I know who you are, Helga Geraldine. I knew who you were before I even sat down. I planned it all out." He began to pace the cell. Helga didn't take her eyes off him the whole time; the guards didn't take their guns off Helga.
"I was living with a beautiful woman, Leighanne," Eddie explained. "I loved her. I wanted to marry her." His face turned grim. "Until I found out she was cheating on me. It broke my heart. I wanted to kill her, but she got into police custody and I couldn't touch her.
"I was a wreck after that, you have no idea. I would lie in bed all day watching the telly, waiting for my life to be over. And then I saw you. On television. I misremember the show, but it was you. And you read a poem…I felt like you were reading straight out of my soul. 'You tore me with perfection/ You burned me with your beauty/ You teased me with the hope I'd never have…'
"Then and there I decided to make you mine. You could understand my pain. You could love me. You would love me. All I had to do was find you. So when I discovered that you were coming to Cairo…well, I could bring you here. This is not technically in Cairo. It is a smaller city, a name you would not be able to pronounce, that follows a law unto itself. I have an…understanding with the local law enforcement. So here you shall stay, until you decide you are willing to accept my offer and learn to love me. Until then, you shall be treated as any other prisoner. Speaking of which, here is your food."
A third guard entered and placed some bread, water, and dried fruit in a corner. Then he retreated. Eddie walked towards Helga.
"So, what is your decision?" he asked, taking her face in his hand and tilting her chin up.
Helga spat in his face. "That's what I think of you, you disgusting piece of filth," she told him, her voice low and shaking with anger.
The guards moved towards her, but Eddie held up a hand. He pulled a handkerchief out and wiped his face, shaking his head ruefully. "I was afraid you would feel like that, at first," he said. "However, I am a patient man. You are a classy girl—you are used to better than this. Before long you will agree, if only to change out of that dress. I will come to see you tomorrow. Until then…" He made a little bow.
The guards followed him out and closed the door, leaving Helga standing in the middle of the cell, her whole body quivering with rage. She heard the bolt slide home, and then Eddie's face appeared in the window.
"By the way, your cellmate should be back soon," he told her. "He's just being whipped, as usual—it comes to those who are…disorderly. I dare say you may find yourself in such a position, unless your attitude improves. You may enjoy him though; he is quite good-looking. Farewell, my flaxen-haired angel," he said, taunting her with another line from one of her poems. She heard his footsteps retreat.
This was a whole new thing to think about. Helga took a sip of water and then sat down, with no appetite to tackle the stale bread or three-day- old dates. A cellmate? A male cellmate? Probably some burly European oaf, some two-bit thief who had talked back to the wrong person. Well, he'd better not try anything, if he knew what was good for him. She'd protected herself from molestation before, especially in high school…she could do it again.
About ten minutes later (although she had no real way to judge time), she heard footsteps approaching again, this time with voices raised in heated agitation. There was shouting in Arabic; she recognized a few insults.
"Quick! Open the door! Get him in there!" a voice shouted in English, albeit with a heavy accent.
"He bit me!" another voice cried. The bolt began to scrape open. Helga looked up, flattened against the wall, to see who they were putting in with her.
The door swung open. "Get in there, American pig!" another voice shouted. A man was thrown violently in, onto his knees. He rose immediately, but one of the guards shoved him hard in the stomach with the butt of his rifle, forcing him back, and slammed the door. The bolt slid into place as the man threw himself at the door, shaking it slightly. Helga was impressed despite herself at his ferocity. She noticed that his shirt was so shredded it was barely more than rags, and his back was deeply scored and oozing blood over half-healed scars.
The man bellowed something in Arabic, beating on the door. There was laughter outside, and then footsteps moving away.
"Cowards!" the man shouted in English. His voice was American, and very familiar. "You don't dare laugh at me when I'm out there!" With no response, he slid slowly to the floor, to his knees. He seemed suddenly exhausted. He turned to crawl across the floor on his hands and knees, but saw her and froze.
"Hello, miss," he said softly, his voice a warm tenor, slightly hoarse.
Helga stared at him. Standing, he would have been almost six feet, a couple of inches taller than her. He was lanky but broad-shouldered and very tan, as if he'd been living in Egypt for quite some time. But he was clearly Caucasian—his hair was darker gold than hers, shaggy and unkempt, obviously uncut for a long time. His mouth was gentle but firm, and surrounded by a short, scraggly crop of reddish gold facial hair. His eyes were catlike, deep green with streaks of gold in them, and earnest. And his head…it was shaped… The lips, the nose, the ears…
"Hello, Arnold," she said softly.
Ooh, suspense…What did you think? Let me know! Part III, "Arnold," should be up soon!
Disclaimer: I forgot to do this before, but Hey Arnold! is, unfortunately, not mine. If it was, do you really think that I would be writing stories on FanFiction.Net? I mean, come on, people…
Part II
"Eddie"
Helga awoke with a peculiar sensation and a not-so-peculiar sensation. The first was that something very hard was pressing against her face. The second was that she had a splitting headache.
She opened her eyes slowly, blinking painfully at the intensely bright light, and realized that the hard thing pressing against her face was the floor. Slowly, she sat up and surveyed her new surroundings.
She was in a small jail cell, about eight feet on each side. The walls were stone, and aged and crumbling. So was the floor and ceiling. The light that had been painful when she first opened her bloodshot eyes really wasn't all that strong—it filtered down through a tiny square window with bars set in it, a few feet above her head, if she were standing. There was a door behind her, made of stout, aged wood, with a similar barred window in it.
She looked down at herself. There were heavy iron manacles on her wrists, with rings for chains to be attached, but no chains on them. She was still in her little black cocktail dress, only now it seemed horribly inappropriate, for obvious reasons. It was dirty and torn in a few places, and one of the straps that held it up was broken. Stupid shoddy Gucci workmanship, she thought, giving the dress up for lost. She was also dirty and bruised and suffering from an acute hangover.
Of course, there were more immediate problems. Like the fact that she had been kidnapped and thrown into a jail in Cairo for no apparent reason. Helga hadn't been known as the angriest kid in P.S. 118 for no reason, and she was getting angry now.
Eddie! Who was he? Why did he kidnap her? It made no sense! She had only told him her first name, so he couldn't have kidnapped her for money. Besides, this was a jail. From what she had heard through the grapevine, these places were used for political criminals or people you wanted to torture answers out of.
She pulled herself to her feet and began to push against the stones, hoping one was loose. No luck. The window was too high up for her to reach, and the door was far too secure to break down. She was as tough as she'd ever been, but she wasn't that tough.
"Hey!" she yelled. "Anyone out there?"
There was a thump on the door. "Quiet in there!" a voice bellowed back in a harsh accent. Okay, so there was a guard.
Helga slumped against a hard wall. She was stuck for the duration, obviously. Well, why not wait and see if anyone came to tell her why she was here?
Suddenly she heard footsteps approaching and voices talking in Arabic outside her door. She stood, to await whoever was coming. There was the sound of a bolt being lifted, and then the door opened slowly. Two guards stood there, flanking a very familiar man.
Helga threw herself at Eddie, clawing at his face. He laughed and stepped back as the guards immediately blocked her way with two very large, very scary-looking guns.
"So Sleeping Beauty's awake, eh?" he asked dryly, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
"You bastard," she spat. "Who the hell do you think you are? Do you know who I am?"
"Of course I do, Helga," he said. "Why do you think I…invited you here? Don't you know who I am?"
"A lying snake?" she guessed.
He laughed again. That laugh sounded less and less like Arn—like someone she had known—every time she heard it. "Close. Edward Niles. The biggest smuggler—and poetry fan—England has ever known. Now can you guess why you were taken here?"
"What are you talking about?" she asked suspiciously.
"I know who you are, Helga Geraldine. I knew who you were before I even sat down. I planned it all out." He began to pace the cell. Helga didn't take her eyes off him the whole time; the guards didn't take their guns off Helga.
"I was living with a beautiful woman, Leighanne," Eddie explained. "I loved her. I wanted to marry her." His face turned grim. "Until I found out she was cheating on me. It broke my heart. I wanted to kill her, but she got into police custody and I couldn't touch her.
"I was a wreck after that, you have no idea. I would lie in bed all day watching the telly, waiting for my life to be over. And then I saw you. On television. I misremember the show, but it was you. And you read a poem…I felt like you were reading straight out of my soul. 'You tore me with perfection/ You burned me with your beauty/ You teased me with the hope I'd never have…'
"Then and there I decided to make you mine. You could understand my pain. You could love me. You would love me. All I had to do was find you. So when I discovered that you were coming to Cairo…well, I could bring you here. This is not technically in Cairo. It is a smaller city, a name you would not be able to pronounce, that follows a law unto itself. I have an…understanding with the local law enforcement. So here you shall stay, until you decide you are willing to accept my offer and learn to love me. Until then, you shall be treated as any other prisoner. Speaking of which, here is your food."
A third guard entered and placed some bread, water, and dried fruit in a corner. Then he retreated. Eddie walked towards Helga.
"So, what is your decision?" he asked, taking her face in his hand and tilting her chin up.
Helga spat in his face. "That's what I think of you, you disgusting piece of filth," she told him, her voice low and shaking with anger.
The guards moved towards her, but Eddie held up a hand. He pulled a handkerchief out and wiped his face, shaking his head ruefully. "I was afraid you would feel like that, at first," he said. "However, I am a patient man. You are a classy girl—you are used to better than this. Before long you will agree, if only to change out of that dress. I will come to see you tomorrow. Until then…" He made a little bow.
The guards followed him out and closed the door, leaving Helga standing in the middle of the cell, her whole body quivering with rage. She heard the bolt slide home, and then Eddie's face appeared in the window.
"By the way, your cellmate should be back soon," he told her. "He's just being whipped, as usual—it comes to those who are…disorderly. I dare say you may find yourself in such a position, unless your attitude improves. You may enjoy him though; he is quite good-looking. Farewell, my flaxen-haired angel," he said, taunting her with another line from one of her poems. She heard his footsteps retreat.
This was a whole new thing to think about. Helga took a sip of water and then sat down, with no appetite to tackle the stale bread or three-day- old dates. A cellmate? A male cellmate? Probably some burly European oaf, some two-bit thief who had talked back to the wrong person. Well, he'd better not try anything, if he knew what was good for him. She'd protected herself from molestation before, especially in high school…she could do it again.
About ten minutes later (although she had no real way to judge time), she heard footsteps approaching again, this time with voices raised in heated agitation. There was shouting in Arabic; she recognized a few insults.
"Quick! Open the door! Get him in there!" a voice shouted in English, albeit with a heavy accent.
"He bit me!" another voice cried. The bolt began to scrape open. Helga looked up, flattened against the wall, to see who they were putting in with her.
The door swung open. "Get in there, American pig!" another voice shouted. A man was thrown violently in, onto his knees. He rose immediately, but one of the guards shoved him hard in the stomach with the butt of his rifle, forcing him back, and slammed the door. The bolt slid into place as the man threw himself at the door, shaking it slightly. Helga was impressed despite herself at his ferocity. She noticed that his shirt was so shredded it was barely more than rags, and his back was deeply scored and oozing blood over half-healed scars.
The man bellowed something in Arabic, beating on the door. There was laughter outside, and then footsteps moving away.
"Cowards!" the man shouted in English. His voice was American, and very familiar. "You don't dare laugh at me when I'm out there!" With no response, he slid slowly to the floor, to his knees. He seemed suddenly exhausted. He turned to crawl across the floor on his hands and knees, but saw her and froze.
"Hello, miss," he said softly, his voice a warm tenor, slightly hoarse.
Helga stared at him. Standing, he would have been almost six feet, a couple of inches taller than her. He was lanky but broad-shouldered and very tan, as if he'd been living in Egypt for quite some time. But he was clearly Caucasian—his hair was darker gold than hers, shaggy and unkempt, obviously uncut for a long time. His mouth was gentle but firm, and surrounded by a short, scraggly crop of reddish gold facial hair. His eyes were catlike, deep green with streaks of gold in them, and earnest. And his head…it was shaped… The lips, the nose, the ears…
"Hello, Arnold," she said softly.
Ooh, suspense…What did you think? Let me know! Part III, "Arnold," should be up soon!