Firstly, I would like to say, WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWW… I can't believe…I can't even begin to imagine how…WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWW… TWENTY HOURS…THIRTEEN REVIEWS. That's all that needs to be said.

O.O

Apologies, TheSorrowfulVampress. I never seem to be able to write more than four pages per chapter no matter how hard I try. I'll be sitting at my computer screen for hours and always end up with a scant amount of pages. Seriously. All you'll hear from my room is tip-tap-tap-tap-tip-clack-click-click-clack. I'll try to write longer chapters…(stares helplessly at computer screen) somehow.

And thanks, boogalaga! Your advice is really helpful and you sound like you have experience under your belt with character development. I'll try to keep Quinn un-Mary Sue-ish and undramatic. The last thing I want is for this to turn into a soap opera kind of thing.

Hollabaloo. You caught me.

Once again. Thirteen reviews. Wow. Thanks!

WARNING!! I know Artemis isn't privy to swear words but I couldn't help it. This is the first and last time you will ever hear him utter an obscene word but I thought the joke at the ending was too funny to resist! :)

With shaking hands, Quinn glued the hair carefully to the doll she had made. Would it work? After how many days and nights spent working tirelessly on Paul's voodoo doll, Quinn was beginning to doubt if the time was well spent. But then there was that feeling again of just knowing it was going to work. The needle trembled as she drew it close to Paul-Doll's throat. She wasn't a killer. She altered her hand's path to Paul's arm and took a deep breath before plunging the needle into Paul's arm. Nothing.

Nothing had changed. Was she supposed to feel something? A sense of power? A sense of the spell being done? That didn't matter, did it? She felt nothing. Out of pure anger, Quinn ripped Paul-Doll's leg half-off before regaining control. Had she really expected something so foolhardy and stupid to work? Now she was doomed to spend three weeks of her life locked away in the deep recesses of school basement in something the teachers liked to call 'detention'. All for nothing. But maybe…

Quinn turned on her computer and opened the internet. She went to her favorites and scanned it for the website that had instructed her in making the voodoo doll. But it wasn't there. Where was it? She went to Google. She typed in 'voodoo doll' and scanned the search results. It wasn't there. What was that website again? For some reason, even though she had spent days on it, she couldn't recall what it was. Quinn's search was becoming more and more frantic. She couldn't find it. She couldn't find it!

Quinn turned off her computer and threw herself on her bed. Staring up at the ceiling she wondered…what the heck am I thinking? So I can't find the website. Maybe the website was just a hoax. A stupid little prank.

But deep inside, Quinn wondered if it was something else.

Quinn turned over onto her side to stare at Paul-Doll. He stared blankly back at her. She should get some sleep. Tomorrow was school anyway.

"Can I talk to you?"

Quinn looked up. It was Paul. "Leave me alone, Paul."

"But I really need to talk to you."

It was recess and already kids were looking in their direction, sensing the possibility of torment in the air. Quinn studied Paul. It was obvious he wasn't going to leave her alone until he had told her what he needed to say. A school aide was nearby for once. Quinn didn't feel afraid.

"Say whatever you got to say then and leave," ordered Quinn.

"Not here," said Paul. "I need to talk to you in the alley."

Quinn was about to say no but then that feeling filled her again. That knowing feeling. It was so delicious having it back, Quinn didn't even fight it as it drew her after Paul who led her to the alley behind Mrs. O'Neil's class. There Paul dawdled, obviously nervous about something.

Quinn said nothing. She was still wrapped in the feeling of knowing. Right now, the feeling was telling her something wonderful was going to happen.

"Quinn, I…"

It came from nowhere. The knowing feeling told Quinn that the froth-dripping dog growling hideously and dangerously low wasn't in the alley by accident. The dog was missing a bit of its ear and had a scar that decorated it's horrible, teeth filled muzzle. How did a dog make it onto school grounds? Suddenly, the knowing feeling spiked and became buzzing feeling inside of Quinn. A horrible thought entered Quinn's mind, her thoughts returning to the savaged Paul-Doll now laying under her bed.

This is it.

The dog didn't even look at Quinn. It focused on Paul. The dog leapt. It's teeth latched onto Paul's leg as Paul stumbled backwards. Quinn had never really noticed the rusted and unimposing steel rod that stuck up out of the concrete for some unknown reason in the middle of the alleyway. It had always been there. What was its purpose? Had it been put in place just for this to happen? Quinn watched as its rusted and pointy tip disappeared into Paul's arm.

The blood was splattered all over her. Everything felt so surreal. The steel rod had gone straight through his arm like the needle had cut through Paul's arm. Paul was gasping for air as he clutched the tear in his leg where the dog had torn into him. She didn't want to see anymore. God, she didn't want to see anymore. So she didn't as she fainted into darkness.

Artemis was particularly still. He said nothing as Quinn looked at him.

He must have looked skeptical because Quinn asked, "Well?"

"It could've been a mere coincidence," pointed out Artemis.



"The hole that I made poking Paul-Doll in the arm was just a little above the elbow. The hole through Paul's arm was a little above the elbow. The tear I made in Paul-Doll's leg was on his right one. The dog bit through Paul's right one. It's coincidence, is it?"

Artemis said nothing.

Having the more minor injury, Quinn was allowed to go home first.

"You're so lucky," gushed the nurse who had taken care of her in the hospital. "The dog just completely ignored you for some reason. Can you imagine what he could've done to you? This'll be one of those stories you can tell at a cocktail party or something…"

But Quinn only stayed at home briefly. When she appeared in the living room dressed and ready to go, her mother didn't ask questions. The look on Quinn's face was determined. Quinn's mother just sighed and waved her away. So Quinn left, Paul-Doll in hand.

Her destination? Arnhem Hospital.

Paul just stared blankly at her as she laid Paul-Doll on his chest. Dots were connected in his head. Quinn watched as the cogs turned and two and two became four.

"I'm sorry."

Paul said nothing.

"I said, I'm sorry."

Still, Paul stayed silent.

"I didn't mean for things to go so far. It's just that…"

"You monster."

Silence fell in that room. Suddenly it was very cold. The feeling of knowing filled her once again, telling her she could hurt him and hurt him BADLY. But she pushed the feeling aside and tried to ignore the rising buzzing inside of her.

"What?"

"You. Monster."

Something inside of Quinn snapped. After all those years of torment, SHE was the monster?

"I'm sorry."

"I don't want your apologies."

"Still. I'm sorry I ever came."

Quinn lifted Paul-Doll from Paul's chest and turned to walk away.

"You know, I liked you, Freaky Geek."

"I guess you liked the wrong person," murmured Quinn. "And my name's not Freaky Geek. It's Quinn."

"Freaky Geek, how could you do this? Did you hated me that much?"

"Right now…I'm not liking anyone that much."

"Did you hate your father that much? I guess you really took my advice to heart. Worthless fathers are better off dead, huh?"

"You know…" Quinn turned and waggled Paul-Doll in Paul's face, a sick smile on her face. "This was kind of fun. I mean really fun. I think I'd do it again. And again. And again. And again. Why? Because all of you…make me sick. Heck, maybe I'll off your dad and see how you like it. That would fun. Almost as fun as making your doll."

"Hey! My dad isn't as worthless as your dad was."

"The way you turned out…I think he was. From now on, you will leave me alone. You understand? All of you, will leave me alone."

Quinn turn and walked away. It wasn't long until walking gave way to running. And running. And running. And running.

Artemis rubbed his temples. "I still find it hard to believe that voodoo actually works. The thought isn't at all viable. And voodoo aside, what worries me is that you said you would do it again. Even if voodoo is merely a useless, inane ritual, the fact you believe you hurt this boy for real and the fact that you would do it again is troubling."

"I have tried it again, you know," said Quinn quietly. "With Robert."

Artemis' eyebrow jumped up as if it had been electrocuted. "You did what?"

"It didn't work. I need that website again to make it work. I can't seem to get the spell right…"

"Quinn this is utterly ridiculous!"

"The world is full of people who have never, since childhood, met an open doorway with an open mind. Maybe you're one of them."

"I try to keep an open mind, but not so open that my brains fall out. This is ridiculous!"

Quinn glared at Artemis. "This is the only bit of power I have in my life and I'm not going to give it up because of some petty argument about right and wrong!"

"Petty? Lives are hardly considered petty. And lives are exactly what you're messing with here, Quinn."

"Go away."

"What?"

"I said go away!"

"I'm not some imaginary friend you can wish away at will."

"I know. That's why you're all the more infuriating!"

"Look. I think we should talk about this."

"There's a minor problem with that suggestion."

"What?"

"I'm done talking."

Quinn stood up and stormed off. Artemis still sat on the edge of the fountain, watching the chubby red head storming off. He waited a moment for this action to sink in and then stood up and cupped his hands to his mouth.

"Bipolar bitch," shouted Artemis

Quinn turned and walked backward long enough for her to retort with, "Meddling motherfucker!"

Quinn smirked and turned back around. Redheads could be SO annoying.

Okay. So I busted my chops writing this chapter. My fingers are cramped and I'm glad to say this is a full, SIX pages! YAY! Two more than my average four page output. Apparently making demand for more reviews works. So here goes. I demand... a treacle tart (I looked it up and it looks DELICIOUS) and...six reviews!