So here's Chapter 2. I hope you like it. This one is right after Chapter 1.

Please send me reviews even if they're negative. The last chapter I only got 1 review. But if I get more reviews I'll update quicker.

Disclaimer : In case anyone actually gives a damn, I don't own Artemis Fowl or related merchandise. They belong to Eoin Colfer.

Here's the chapter!

Chapter 2

A murky voice boomed in her eardrums. "Wake up."

Delicate eyelids slowly blinked open. The long, dark eyelashes brushed against the tops of her cheekbones. With a groan, Opal Koboi rolled over. Instantly a shot of pain washed through her head, clearing her mind of any unnecessary thoughts and focusing on the whereabouts of the agony.

"You have finally awoken."

With her heart in her throat, Opal remembered her last few memories. She remembered hearing some shouts outside her door before it blew off its hinges. She vaguely recalled flying off her cot to affront the intruder when a melodic voice penetrated her consciousness and rendered her unconscious.

Opal sat up. The bed she was lying on was stiff and uncomfortable—her back creaked and her brain pounded against her forehead. The bed had a thin, scratchy sheet that fell loose when she had sat up. Her cot was positioned in a nook in the wall, a small piece of wood holding the furniture up. The walls had wood paneling that matched the floor. It looked as if the cot had been thrown into the small space without any say as to what it looked like. Everything was mismatched, from the coverings on the pilot/co-pilot chair to the different colored floorboards.

Sitting in the pilot's chair was female pixie. She had twisted the chair around so she was facing Opal. Her lips were plump, perfectly shaped in a coating of blood-red lipstick. Her dark brown eyes were opaque, the corners angling downwards so it gave her a menacing appearance. Her nose was straight and pointed. Her cheeks were slightly rounded, giving her an innocent disposition to add to her angular face.

All in all, Opal deduced she looked extremely familiar. Though she couldn't see her entire face, as her features were hidden in the depths of the shadows. The outline of the woman's face made the hairs on Opal's arm stand up.

"Where am I?" She murmured, her throat scratchy. She cleared it, and then attempted to speak again. "You have broken me out of my cell, so you must mean of some importance to me."

The woman appeared to have smiled. "Yes. I am of importance to you, just as you are to me. And I can't believe those idiotic police officers call Howler's Peak the most secure prison in the subterranean world. Breaking you out of Atlantis would have been harder."

Opal's mouth opened on her own. "I was in Atlantis. They moved me when a disturbance occurred. I'm guessing that disturbance was—"

"Me?" The woman finished.

There were only three times in which Opal Koboi has shuddered in fear: when her father had threatened to kill her after she destroyed his reputation and business, when Briar Cudgeon had approached her with the plan to foil the LEP and underground-civilization, and when she found the detonated-charges in the booty box during the Zito-probe investigation.

This woman, however, sent chills racing up her entire body. She had grown soft, she realized. Time behind bars had killed her immunity towards snide remarks and icy comments.

"What are your intentions?" She demanded, regaining her voice back.

The woman chuckled, a breathy falsetto. "I will explain it later. First thing first, would you like to freshen up? I know I wouldn't like to be interrogated while feeling dirty."

Opal couldn't help the sudden increase of tempo in her heart. Not from fear, but of rage. Did this woman think of her so idiotic to really get off the bed and actually eat or shower in her presence?

The pixie had a hard time restraining her temper. "I'd rather not." She spat, her dark eyes narrowed at the silhouette. The shadow shook her head delicately, an invisible smile on her lips.

"Human blood has tainted my veins." She murmured.

Opal frowned, even more confused that before. And there was nothing Opal Koboi hated more than being confused.

"Explain, now!" She shrieked, jumping from the mattress, her sweaty, bare feet easily finding purchase on the wooden floor. The shadows around the woman's face shrank back to give Opal a clear view.

Her heart expanded into her throat.

This woman looked exactly like her 10 years ago.

"Who are you?" Opal asked, though she knew the answer even as she said it. There was no denying it, though a small voice niggled in the back of her mind. It was a wonder she had not yet gone mad. Hadn't she once entertained the thought of allowing her fans the same Koboi-perfect looks? Perhaps this was a crazed admirer.

"Who am I? I think the question is who are you? You seem to have forgotten your true self. Disgusting, really. A pituitary gland? How could I become so revolting in the future? To think I rescued a Mud Womanfrom prison…" The pixie trailed off, her eyes boring holes into Opal.

Her lip curled. "It was a tactful decision, mind you. Ingenious, really, never disgusting. Mud Men have advantages that we fairies never had. Height, for instance. Do you realize I could just topple over you and knock you unconscious?"

The woman didn't spare her another glance, making the tendons in Opal's arm swell. She was seething. Certainly this woman didn't simply disregard her? Opal Koboi was a thousand times more brilliant and clever than this… mongrel!

"Honestly, it's a little humiliating to even look at you. And 'we' fairies? I beg your pardon, but must I remind you every time your impudence has taken control your tiny brain that you are no longer fairy? Just a Mud Whelp." The woman scoffed at the last sentence, tossing her head to the side to flip her hair over her thin shoulder. Opal couldn't help the glass-shattering screech that escaped past her lips.

"Mud Whelp? Did you just refer to me as a Mud Whelp? You insignificant little witch!" Opal felt the urge to lunge, but wisely held back.

The woman turned her attention back to Opal, barely casting a side-glance. "Insignificant? I think not." She had the audacity to look un-offended by Opal's insult, even crossing her legs comfortably. "In fact, I am as close to a witch as you can ever imagine, my friend."

Opal's face was screwed into a grimace-like-sneer. Her once-beautiful features were no doubt covered in premature wrinkles. "You're no friend of mine."

The clone-like pixie smiled, her eyes thrusting daggers at Opal. "You are quite right. I am no friend. I'm much closer."

Opal's brain finally made the connection, confirming her suspicion and interlocking the two ideas—who was this woman and what did she want with her—together like a vice-grip. "Time travel." She breathed, her eyes wide. She had heard of it before, but never experienced it.

The woman frowned, examining her perfect nails. "It's a shame it took you this long to figure it out, my dearest self. Though I'm not sure if you are to blame. Human blood has a tendency to increase levels of stupidity in others. But enough of the talking," The pixie stood, her head coming up to Opal's nose. "I'm here for a reason."

Opal stood up to her full height, a whopping 2 inches above the head of her captor. Though she wasn't sure if she was kept here against her will, though she a had a feeling that if this woman… er, herself went through all the trouble to break her out of prison then she most certainly wasn't going to risk for her to simply walk out the door.

"And what is that?" Opal studied her nails. "World domination? I'm sorry, but that objective already belongs to me."

Past-Opal threw her head back and laughed. "Oh no. Don't you understand? If this is me in the future," she looked Opal up and down, revulsion clear in her eyes. "Then I will be in your shoes in just a few measly years. This means that I will no doubt be the queen of the world in just a short time."

"How can you be so sure? My previous attempts have ended in subterfuge and stupidity."

Past-Opal chuckled. "Why in the world would I foil my own attempts at conquering the world? And that is not my goal; instead it will be yours."

Opal tried not to get confused. Was it her goal or her goal? They were the same person, but the effect was the same. She was to focus on rendering the world underneath her clutches. But… if this was, in fact, herself, then…

"How did you get here? What time are you from—why are you not in the past? I do not remember traveling to the future at any time or point in my life." Opal's face darkened. Was this woman a fraud? Certainly nothing could prove that this was herself from a different time. Opal felt a ridiculous notion of betrayal. Why, she didn't know. Did she already have a feeling of Stockholm syndrome? An attachment to her captor? Though it wouldn't make sense; all her captor did was insult and call her names.

Past-Opal's features were graced with a small frown. "Then something must happen to me later on that make me forget." She tapped her chin with a long, manicured finger. "Interesting. But anyways, we will both have our goals."

Opal's eyes narrowed in accusation. "How do I know you're really me?"

Past-Opal smiled, reminding Opal of a certain Mud Boy. "You had a scar on your upper thigh from when you were a little girl and tried to ride a bike. The seat was too hot from sitting out underneath the magnastrips all day. When you went to sit on it, a small scar was left and wasn't healed until that night."

Opal was aghast. Never before had she told anyone of that imperfection. In reality it embarrassed her to not have the flawless skin she claimed to have. She had lied to any interviewer that asked her if she had obtained any scars in her life—which hadn't shamed her unduly.

The only person that knew was her.

Opal stayed quiet as her counterpart stared on. "…What's this plan of yours?"

o~:~o