Original Author's Note:

here it is! the long awaited Artemis Fowl fic!

*long awaited?*

oh stop ruining my fun.

Second edition Author's Note:

My fic's been rewritten, remade and re-something-elsed! I present it now to you!

I took my Artemis Fowl crossover and, well, redid it. The plot's been changed and it's -gasp- been finished! *is proud* Hope you like it!

Editor's Note: Artemis Fowl, Holly, and their universe belong to Eoin Colfer. We mean well, really. And we'll give them back when we're done.

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Prologue: Haunted

1869
London graveyard, England

The boy was young. He couldn’t be more than fourteen. But his face, his face looked older than time. Dressed, like he was, in the traditional black of funerals, relatives and friends walked by him. Sometimes briefly resting their hand on his shoulder sometimes patting his back. All of them murmured regrets and sympathetic words. He didn’t answer, or even acknowledge them.

Some had been surprised when he hadn’t cried during the service. Others put it down to shock. The rumor was he’d been there when it happened. Such a shame, they said. She was such a pretty little thing. Supposedly they’d been very close.

The boy was still standing in front of the grave long after even his father had left. It all kept replaying inside his head. Over and over again. The horse, the rock, her terrified violet eyes, and how it was his fault.

The wind had picked up, blowing his black hair into his eyes and pricking his skin. He didn’t care. He had dared her, dared her to ride the stallion when she was afraid of heights. It was his fault the horse had reared. He’d frightened it. He must have. He hadn’t moved fast enough to catch her before her head hit the rock. His fault.

"Elizabeth, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Come back. Please, I’m sorry." He shut his eyes as the tears leaked out. "Sister, I’m so sorry."

2104
New London Underground, England

He should have known; they were so similar, these two sisters of his. He threw the letter into the microwave. Elizabeth had come back after all. Only, not the way he’d begged for. But beggars can’t be choosers.

There was one difference, however. This Elizabeth hated him. Loathed him. But all the same, he loved her. Even though she brought back all the memories, all the guilt he’d fought for so long to forget. And he couldn’t tell her. Not in a million years. She’d be disgusted and horrified. He couldn’t possibly do that to her.

As the once-familiar scene began to replay itself, he realized there was only one way to protect her. He would do to her what he’d done to the last one. To some extent, at any rate. But just the thought of it hurt, the thought of her terrified violet eyes.

"I’m sorry, Elizabeth, I’m so sorry. Really...sister...It’s the only way. I’m sorry." He was whimpering now. His eyes shut as he cried for the second time in his life. His sister hadn’t come back to comfort him, his sister had come back to haunt him.

Martin Fenwick stepped quietly away from the door. He knew, without a doubt, that his Master was no longer well. "Mon ami, things are about to change. Though I do not think it will be for the better, ah non."