WARNING: this fic is rated M, but more so for foul language and disturbing imagery than sexual content. I got the idea for this fic after reading a few Helga and Rhonda fics on here, as well as rewatching Higurashi again. I don't want to give away too much, but me citing HIGURASHI as one of the inspos should give you an idea as to what to expect from this fic in terms of M rated content lol.

Anywho, please do enjoy Bermuda Chapter One: Denial

Rhonda Wellington-Lloyd and Helga Pataki's friendship was something that shocked pretty much everyone they knew.

The two girls shared a few similarities, both headstrong, both independent, both... tall. Aside from those few minor similarities though, the two were so fundamentally different that the fact that they could even be in the same room as each other was a shock to experience. It seemed they both existed for the sole purpose of being the foil to one and other; to put it simply, Helga was everything Rhonda hated, and Rhonda was everything Helga hated. It was beyond ying and yang, the two simply shouldn't have meshed.

Yet one day, it seemed the two had become the best of friends.

Nobody, not even Phoebe or Nadine, knew what happened between them. Rhonda liked it that way, many rumors had spread about the duo's sudden sisterhood; some said they were in a secret relationship, others said Rhonda was blackmailing Helga with some sort of juicy gossip, some even said Rhonda's family had offered Bob Pataki a business deal and their friendship was pure convenience. The noir haired teenager found it comedic, how desperate the school was to justify their friendship, and she revelled in how exclusive the reasoning behind it was.

Rhonda remembered it as if it were yesterday. They had just started high school, and it was clear Helga was beginning that metamorphosis change that all the girls were. She was finally growing into her looks, had gotten rid of the god awful unibrow, and actually wore appealing clothing — ones that were probably bought by Olga, now that she thought about it — as much as Rhonda hated to admit it at the time, Helga was getting noticed, and for the first time since ever, boys were actually looking her way. For this reason and this reason alone, Rhonda invited her to her New School Year party.

The party went as any party harboring teens trying way too hard to seem grown up would go, alcohol, low level drugs, some filthy students having sex in one of her guest rooms. It wasn't until she saw Helga, who looked weirdly out of it, being dragged along by some guy on the basketball team. Rhonda knew him, but she also knew Helga didn't mingle with people like him, so just to be sure everything was alright, she followed them.

As her intuition had guessed, everything was certainly not okay; Helga — who looked to be slipping in and out of consciousness — was trying and failing to push this guy off as he held her down and tried to remove her clothing, Rhonda wasted no time in screaming, alerting the creep as well as anyone else within a fifty meter radius that she had seen what was going on. The incident itself was rather chaotic, some of the boys nearby dogpilled the creep with quickness, so needless to say he left the party with a black eye and a bruised ego.

Having both been shaken up by what happened, Rhonda stayed with Helga as the blonde did something she had never seen her do before, cry. The noir haired hostess listened as she sobbed, relaying what the creep had said to her about supposedly tempting him by simply looking the way she looked. Clearly intoxicated, Helga was a lot more open than she probably would have been sober; she spoke about how she had imitated one of Olga's looks for the party, but instead of being happy that she was finally trying to be a bit like her sister, Bob had yelled at her for making the outfit look inappropriate, simply because she wasn't as small and petite as her sister. She went on about how she just wanted to be a regular teen and do regular teen things, yet the one time she decided to let loose and have fun, she was yelled at, harassed, and almost assaulted.

"Why," she remembered her muttering through sniffles, "why does it always happen to me?"

She sounded so painfully pitiful, and for the first time since the day they had met, Helga was being candid. Taking advantage of this, Rhonda found herself asking Helga about her home life, personal life, and even her interests; she had always been rather curious about the closed off girl, and now she had the chance to actually get to know her. Helga rambled, telling Rhonda pretty much anything that went on in her head, what she liked, all of it, things that only a handful of people previously knew.

By the end of the party, Rhonda offered to let Helga stay the night, making sure her parents informed the Patakis of said arrangement, and as the blonde slept in one of the many guest rooms her family had in their home, Rhonda had come to a single conclusion.

Helga didn't deserve this.

When her walls were down and she wasn't shutting the world out, she was... a good person. She was smart, she was kind, she was introspective; had the world just given her a chance to express herself, everyone else would see it too. It filled Rhonda with an odd sense of determination, from that day forward she had sworn to befriend Helga — which she had succeeded in — and as their friendship deepened over the many months and years that passed, she had decided that she wanted to protect her.

Rhonda looked across the lunch table to her blonde friend, who was currently in a heated debate with Gerald over something she hadn't been paying attention to, they were now seniors, and to say Helga had blossomed would be an understatement. If you had told nine-year-old Rhonda that Helga Pataki, the crude lanky girl with a harsh unibrow and permanent scowl, was going to grow into some blonde bombshell she would have probably cursed at you for pulling her leg. Naturally, the pompous girl took some credit for Helga's looks, she was the one that took her to salons and bought her clothes when Olga didn't want to, and she was the one that got her a membership at the local gym that she abused since day one. However, it wasn't just her looks that blossomed; Helga was overall way less standoffish than she used to be, she wasn't exactly Lila Sawyer levels of angel, but she was actually approachable now, which was a far cry from the Helga that first started school.

"I'm just saying," Helga shrugged, "you can call Moon Knight a Batman ripoff all you want, but if that's the case, isn't it kinda embarrassing that Marvel took DC's idea and made it, I dunno, cool and interesting?"

Gerald scoffed, "oh, so now adding a buncha random personalities and Egyptian god lore makes a character more interesting?"

"I just find it funny how Batman's supposed ripoff has actual powers"

The other boys at the table, more specifically Sid and Harold, let out dramatic gasps at Helga's statement, with the former cackling, "fight back Gerald, fight back!"

The table became full of laughter as he spluttered for a comeback, and though Rhonda was never really a fan of the superhero nonsense, she found herself chuckling when she saw the now smug expression on Helga's face. Eventually, a familiar green-eyed blond found himself sat beside Gerald, and it took Rhonda a lot of energy not to glare when she saw the look her best friend had just given him.

Rhonda found out about Helga's crush on Arnold about a month into their friendship, and to this day, just knowing how much she was pining for him, only for him to pay her dust boiled her blood. She could understand when they were still freshman, maybe even sophomores, but senior Helga was a sight to behold, there were boys willing to fight for her attention, yet here goes Arnold Shortman blissfully unaware of her feelings for him.

Helga didn't deserve to be disregarded like that.

Rhonda did not like Phoebe Heyerdahl.

As she stomped down the hallways and flung the doors to the school entrance open, she seethed at the mere thought of the short half-asian girl. Today was meant to be the day she and Helga walked home together, yet that tiny little nobody just had to get involved and ask Helga to study with her; why was Helga still friends with her anyway? Phoebe wasn't all that pretty, and she certainly wasn't popular, Rhonda was a better friend than her all the way. The noirette let off a shakey sigh as she made her way home, this didn't feel right at all, what was the point of the trip home if she and Helga didn't converse the whole way, with Rhonda going on about some pop culture nonsense Helga truly didn't care for? In the past two years since freshman year, Rhonda and Helga had been practically joint at the hip, and she knew it totally made that loser Phoebe all the more jealous, that's probably why she asked Helga for a study date anyway.

Phoebe didn't care about Helga like Rhonda did, sure they had been friends much longer but the pompous teen did not care. Phoebe didn't think of Helga's well being every second they weren't around each other, Phoebe didn't spend thousands of dollars buying Helga gifts and clothes whenever the stupid Pataki's neglected her yet again, Phoebe didn't feel a burning sensation in her chest when she didn't know where Helga was or how to contact her. She was nowhere near the friend Rhonda was, so for her to have the absolute nerve to get in the way of her and Helga walking home together made her feel a special sort of rage.

As Rhonda stomped into her large home, she completely ignored the hellos she received from her parents, opting to just go straight to her room instead. Once inside, Rhonda slumped herself onto the bed; perhaps she shouldn't have stormed home the way she did, she could have waited for the study date to be done and the asked Helga to go to Slausens with her (and conveniently find a way to remove Phoebe out of the picture), but it was too late for that. Now she had to wait until tomorrow to see her best friend again, and she'd only be able to spend half an hour with her until first period, in which they both had different classes. The idea of that stressed her out, anything could happen to Helga in that time, anyone or anything could be hurting her and she wouldn't know.

She sat up on her bed, beginning to take in deep breaths, she knew Helga could take care of herself — she was a tough little blonde — but Rhonda still felt like she had to be there, after everything Helga's been through, Rhonda had to protect her... because...

"No one else will"

Rhonda perked up instantly, that wasn't her, she was sure of it. She looked around, and was about to question her own sanity when she heard the same echoey speak, "l

ook ahead"

The teen looked to her front, and suddenly the sight of her bedroom door was obscured by... a blob. That was what it was best described as, a pitch black blob floating in the middle of the room. She didn't know what to do, she was now feeling an eerie chill run down her spine, the hairs on her arms and legs standing at attention; was she hallucinating? She had to be, maybe she was just tired, because there was no way whatever that was supposed to be was actually there. Due to shock and paranoia, Rhonda stayed silent, which allowed the blob to speak yet again.

"Rhonda Wellington-Lloyd, seventeen years of age, you attend Archan High School in Hillwood" the blob spoke gently, its voice was soft, like the sound of the breeze on a cool day in fall. Rhonda found the voice neither feminine or masculine, it was simply a soft, echoey voice, "who is Helga Pataki to you?"

It took a while for Rhonda to acknowledge she need to respond, and when she did she cleared her throat before saying, "she's — uh — she's my best friend"

The blob seemed to hum in response, before it floated closer to the girl, who scooted back on her bed "My name is Bermuda, and I am here to assist you"

"Assist me with what?" she asked, the eerie feeling getting stronger. Something about this 'Bermuda' felt... off. Rhonda didn't like it.

The blob — Bermuda — chuckled, the airy sound not doing anything to calm her nerves, "I am a part of you Rhonda, I am a manifestation of your deepest, most taboo desires... and I want to help you protect Helga"

The noirette scoffed, "w-what on earth makes you think I want to—" but before she could finish, she was cut off by yet another chuckle from Bermuda, this one sounding even more amused than the last.

"Fooling me is pointless Rhonda, as I said, I am a part of you... I think your thoughts, I feel your feelings, I am you... I am the you that you try so desperately to hide, but I've been making myself more present lately" suddenly, Bermuda began to shift and contort, the sight was so off-putting and uncanny that Rhonda chose to look away, seconds later she turned back, blown away by what she saw. No longer was Bermuda a shapeless black blob, it had now taken the form of... Helga, something that somehow calmed Rhonda.

Bermuda chuckled, "this is the face of a girl that needs you" Bermuda was now speaking in a low, shadow-like replica of Helga's voice, "why deny?"

Unable to say a word, Rhonda found herself crawling back on her bed when the fake-Helga began getting closer to her, in what seemed to be an agonizingly slow split second, Bermuda had managed to straddle the poor girl, placing both hands on either side of her face.

"You..." Rhonda just barely managed to say, "you aren't Helga"

"So?" the fake-Helga giggled — it sounded so much like her laugh — "right now, what's the harm in pretend?"

"I don't under—" Rhonda didn't get the chance to finish her sentence, as before she could even question what the hell was going on, fake-Helga had locked lips with her. The girl below her was frozen, her mind racing with many different emotions; how exactly was she supposed to feel? A weird creature taking on the form of her best friend whom she cared for dearly was now kissing her, she couldn't even express herself in her usual confrontational and dominant manner, she was simply frozen solid.

In fact, for just a few seconds, she found herself giving in to the kiss, which fake-Helga promptly tried to deepen as a result. However, the noirette was quick to snap back to her senses, pulling back and pushing the... the... whatever it was off her. She spluttered, unable to find the words she wanted to say. That was so... wrong! She had just kissed an evil whatever-the-hell-it-is dressed as Helga, and for a couple of milliseconds, enjoyed it!

Bermuda, clearly not wanting to leave its Helga form, let off a sarcastic sigh, "perhaps you'll like the real deal more, who knows, maybe if you keep on protecting her from everyone who wants to hurt her, she'll love you almost as much as you love her" and before Rhonda could retort with some sort of denial, Bermuda was gone.

Confused, aroused, and tired, Rhonda slumped onto her bed, burying her head into her pillow. Yes, she cared about Helga, yeah she got real protective at times, but love? No, absolutely not.

Rhonda did not love Helga.

Kill me later heheheeeeeee

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