Shooting At Shadows
Hide and Seek- More Than Just a Mind Game.
Alex slowly and somewhat painfully managed to open his heavy eyelids to glimpse unfocusedly at the room around him. His eyes sent him blurred images of a lusciously furnished room; a large fire burning beneath a marble mantle piece and blatantly expensive art placed tastefully on the walls. He knew he must be hallucinating, some sort of side effect of the sedative he could still taste lingering in his mouth, its metallic, almost sickly sweet taste adding to his building comprehensiveness. His limbs felt as numb and heavy as his eyelids as he sat there, trying to regain some strength.
After a short while he opened his eyes again, with more ease than before. His focused gaze landed upon a portrait which, strangely, seemed familiar. Alex’s mind began to clear, as though a mist was quickly evaporating. He stared into the cold eyes of the portrait when, suddenly, a chilling realisation cursed through him. He knew who the man in the portrait was. Artemis Fowl. The boy who had abducted and drugged him. But this picture was of a man, and by the looks of it a heartless one who would do anything to get what he wanted. Or who he wanted.
His mind churned relentlessly and painfully. Maybe it was just the dwindling traces of sedative affecting him. But Alex suddenly had an un-logical, spine tingling thought. How long had he been under?
* * *
Artemis stared through the one sided portrait. To the person in the room before him it looked like any other glaring Fowl, but on the other side of the frame was a small room filled with surveillance and interrogation equipment. Butler stared at the thought lines that covered his principal’s young face. He knew never to seriously question his schemes, not aloud anyway. But this kid they had taken in, he’d been out cold for three days.
Butler had stopped the limo on Artemis’ signal, and opened one of the back doors to see the boy in a light state of shock induced unconsciousness. Artemis had been sitting beside him with a sheet of cam foil draped across his lap. He then had opened a small flask, glass with a silvery liquid glittering inside, and poured three drops into the slack mouth of Alex Rider. Butler had not been informed of this stage of the plan, but as was Artemis’ usual rule of only informing participants of the operation only in the part that concerned them.
Artemis didn’t need to have the highest IQ in centuries to decipher Butler’s look of mild suspicion.
‘Just a light potion, old friend.’ Artemis had said.
At the word potion his bodyguard’s already squinting gaze had narrowed further. Not that he wasn’t used to dealing with a wide range of magical and incredible creatures, but potions were something that had never been mentioned.
‘A very low fatality chance, Butler, no need to worry.’ Butler remained motionless, his gaze fixed firmly on his charge. ‘A light truth serum and sedative, 90% water actually- potions are extremely strong. One case recorded of this sedative resulted in a ten year state of unconscious-’
This obviously wasn’t what Butler had wanted to hear but Artemis wasn’t fond of defending himself and so it was left at that. The bodyguards’ solider sense was buzzing like mad, Artemis and potions was a dangerous combination…
* * *
Now, three days later the Rider boy hadn’t showed any signs of regaining consciousness. Artemis had spent the days in the cramped surveillance chamber; checking Alex regularly; frowning, and pacing. Butler often heard a few muttered words escaping Artemis’ thin lips. ‘Definitely too strong…need him…whole plan…’
This wasn’t like Artemis at all. His plans were much too complex to rely on one person to be successful. What was it that Alex had that Artemis needed? Butler was not one to doubt his principal but something about this plan wasn’t right. Something Artemis wasn’t only not telling him, but something the genius himself wasn’t sure about.
Though late on the third day Alex Rider had stirred and opened his eyes. As Artemis had leant in very close to the one-way window Butler had heard the snippets of his thoughts as he said them aloud.
‘Much too strong…next time…must be careful…need to research…’
For the next ten minutes they had watched as Alex regained strength then eventually stared right at the portrait that was concealing them. Artemis knew he didn’t have much time- you had to be quick in these situations. You had to give just enough time to get nervous but not enough for them to start thinking of a plan. He brushed off his suit, took a deep breath and walked out of the small room and over the expensive Parisian carpet, towards the doors of Fowl Manor’s freshly re-decorated basement cell.
* * *
After forcefully calming himself down, Alex began to get his bearings. He realised he was sitting in a comfortable armchair and that he was not bound in any way. But he had not been trained to detect being bound in any form besides physical. He tried to stand up but found he couldn’t. His mind was as sharp as ever, besides a few ominous questions and the image of his captor appearing out of thin air of course. A war was still waging inside Alex’s mind over whether he had really seen what he thought he had.
He tried to get up again but it was as though he had no power or control over his body from the shoulders down. He clenched his teeth, focused his thoughts and managed to awkwardly push himself up from the chair. It was the most peculiar sensation Alex had ever felt. It was like he was trapped in hardening cement, trying to swim through. Rider was on his feet for a mere moment before he crashed to the ground in front of the chair, completely exhausted.
That was the same exact moment Artemis Fowl appeared in front of him, clapping slowly.
‘I am impressed Master Rider, truly.’
Alex tried to find words, but he was feeling completely drained and only could open his mouth.
Artemis seemed to be swimming in and out of focus before him. Blending with the stylish room around him…like he was a projection slowly fading away…then he left his vision completely.
Still on his knees, his hard breathing slowing, Alex managed to lift his head and look around.
Artemis shimmered into view, leaning casually on the fire place. Across the room from where he had been moments before.
‘This is no hallucination, Alex. You haven’t met you match, I’m your worse nightmare.’
He paused there to let the words sink in, or maybe, just for the suspense.
‘And I’m not sorry to say that it’s up to you to prevent it from becoming a reality.’
Then, for second time in as many conversations, Alex felt the ground rush up to meet him as unconsciousness said hello again.
After a short while he opened his eyes again, with more ease than before. His focused gaze landed upon a portrait which, strangely, seemed familiar. Alex’s mind began to clear, as though a mist was quickly evaporating. He stared into the cold eyes of the portrait when, suddenly, a chilling realisation cursed through him. He knew who the man in the portrait was. Artemis Fowl. The boy who had abducted and drugged him. But this picture was of a man, and by the looks of it a heartless one who would do anything to get what he wanted. Or who he wanted.
His mind churned relentlessly and painfully. Maybe it was just the dwindling traces of sedative affecting him. But Alex suddenly had an un-logical, spine tingling thought. How long had he been under?
* * *
Artemis stared through the one sided portrait. To the person in the room before him it looked like any other glaring Fowl, but on the other side of the frame was a small room filled with surveillance and interrogation equipment. Butler stared at the thought lines that covered his principal’s young face. He knew never to seriously question his schemes, not aloud anyway. But this kid they had taken in, he’d been out cold for three days.
Butler had stopped the limo on Artemis’ signal, and opened one of the back doors to see the boy in a light state of shock induced unconsciousness. Artemis had been sitting beside him with a sheet of cam foil draped across his lap. He then had opened a small flask, glass with a silvery liquid glittering inside, and poured three drops into the slack mouth of Alex Rider. Butler had not been informed of this stage of the plan, but as was Artemis’ usual rule of only informing participants of the operation only in the part that concerned them.
Artemis didn’t need to have the highest IQ in centuries to decipher Butler’s look of mild suspicion.
‘Just a light potion, old friend.’ Artemis had said.
At the word potion his bodyguard’s already squinting gaze had narrowed further. Not that he wasn’t used to dealing with a wide range of magical and incredible creatures, but potions were something that had never been mentioned.
‘A very low fatality chance, Butler, no need to worry.’ Butler remained motionless, his gaze fixed firmly on his charge. ‘A light truth serum and sedative, 90% water actually- potions are extremely strong. One case recorded of this sedative resulted in a ten year state of unconscious-’
This obviously wasn’t what Butler had wanted to hear but Artemis wasn’t fond of defending himself and so it was left at that. The bodyguards’ solider sense was buzzing like mad, Artemis and potions was a dangerous combination…
* * *
Now, three days later the Rider boy hadn’t showed any signs of regaining consciousness. Artemis had spent the days in the cramped surveillance chamber; checking Alex regularly; frowning, and pacing. Butler often heard a few muttered words escaping Artemis’ thin lips. ‘Definitely too strong…need him…whole plan…’
This wasn’t like Artemis at all. His plans were much too complex to rely on one person to be successful. What was it that Alex had that Artemis needed? Butler was not one to doubt his principal but something about this plan wasn’t right. Something Artemis wasn’t only not telling him, but something the genius himself wasn’t sure about.
Though late on the third day Alex Rider had stirred and opened his eyes. As Artemis had leant in very close to the one-way window Butler had heard the snippets of his thoughts as he said them aloud.
‘Much too strong…next time…must be careful…need to research…’
For the next ten minutes they had watched as Alex regained strength then eventually stared right at the portrait that was concealing them. Artemis knew he didn’t have much time- you had to be quick in these situations. You had to give just enough time to get nervous but not enough for them to start thinking of a plan. He brushed off his suit, took a deep breath and walked out of the small room and over the expensive Parisian carpet, towards the doors of Fowl Manor’s freshly re-decorated basement cell.
* * *
After forcefully calming himself down, Alex began to get his bearings. He realised he was sitting in a comfortable armchair and that he was not bound in any way. But he had not been trained to detect being bound in any form besides physical. He tried to stand up but found he couldn’t. His mind was as sharp as ever, besides a few ominous questions and the image of his captor appearing out of thin air of course. A war was still waging inside Alex’s mind over whether he had really seen what he thought he had.
He tried to get up again but it was as though he had no power or control over his body from the shoulders down. He clenched his teeth, focused his thoughts and managed to awkwardly push himself up from the chair. It was the most peculiar sensation Alex had ever felt. It was like he was trapped in hardening cement, trying to swim through. Rider was on his feet for a mere moment before he crashed to the ground in front of the chair, completely exhausted.
That was the same exact moment Artemis Fowl appeared in front of him, clapping slowly.
‘I am impressed Master Rider, truly.’
Alex tried to find words, but he was feeling completely drained and only could open his mouth.
Artemis seemed to be swimming in and out of focus before him. Blending with the stylish room around him…like he was a projection slowly fading away…then he left his vision completely.
Still on his knees, his hard breathing slowing, Alex managed to lift his head and look around.
Artemis shimmered into view, leaning casually on the fire place. Across the room from where he had been moments before.
‘This is no hallucination, Alex. You haven’t met you match, I’m your worse nightmare.’
He paused there to let the words sink in, or maybe, just for the suspense.
‘And I’m not sorry to say that it’s up to you to prevent it from becoming a reality.’
Then, for second time in as many conversations, Alex felt the ground rush up to meet him as unconsciousness said hello again.