Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned in this story.

They all belong to their rightful owner: Craig Bartlett.

Title: "Alter ego"

Summary: Most people would argue that Arnold is a saint of nature. Lady Luck is not always on his side though and one day, while playing baseball, he hits the ball so hard it flies through the window to Madam Blanche's store. The gypsy does not take it lightly and puts a curse on him. Soon he starts acting weird around his peers; especially around a certain blonde girl.

Author's 1st note: Boy, oh, boy, have I been looking forward to start this project! Now, it's not going to be a long story. It's also going to be much different than my other stories. First of all, YOU get to suggest ideas to what could happen in this story. Same subject, of course, but you might get to give me ideas about one or a couple of chapters. So, by all means, send me suggestions to what can happen in this story! (Of course following the theme of the story and not shoving random things in there.) I can't promise to do all, but don't be shy in asking :3

Also, in case it's not obvious to everyone, the title of this FanFiction is inspired by the song "Alter ego" by Clique Girls. I recommend listening to it ;)

[Please notify me if you notice any grammar mistakes. This isn't my first language, so there's bound to be mistakes.]

Chapter 1: "I can hear a little voice inside my head"

"Uh-oh. Arnold's up to bat! Everyone, get your helmets on!" Helga said and moved her own helmet down to cover her face. Arnold sighed as he watched his peers look at him in slight fear, all except for his best friend Gerald who tried to give him an encouraging smile, but even that seemed a little shaky. "Helga, I think I've outgrown my dangerous lumber by now." Arnold insisted before grabbing the bat in front of her. "We ain't taking no chances, Arnold-o! You've beaned us all too many times for us to forget and, speaking of which, yours truly did in fact get amnesia one time when you beaned her! Remember?" she asked and he frowned at her. "It's hard to forget when you keep reminding me." He muttered before getting in position.

Harold, who was standing in the middle of the field with the ball in his hands, considered mocking Arnold as he usually did, but considering how their former baseball plays had ended up, he thought against it. "Just don't cream me like last time, Arnold!" he warned and Arnold nodded though he knew he couldn't make any promises. Especially not since they weren't at their usual spot. The borders at Sunset Arms had requested having the field alone today so all the tenth graders were forced to play baseball in the middle of the street. "Just throw the ball, pig boy!" Helga shouted. "Madam Fortress Mommy…" Harold grunted at her command, but did prepare to throw the ball.

Arnold tightened his grip on the bat and moved it slowly in order not to give the ball enough power to hurt anyone. Once the ball made contact with his bat though, Arnold felt the vibrations in his fingers when the ball bounced off. He barely managed to think uh-oh before he heard the unmistakable sound of glass shattering. "Crap! Arnold, you've really done it this time!" Sid declared once he had turned around and seen the broken window behind him.

Arnold gulped. "Whose shop is that?" he asked fearfully. Helga moved beside him and tried to make out the broken words on the glazing. "That's Madame Blanche's shop!" she gasped, but her classmates only stared at her dumbfounded. "Who?" Rhonda asked. Helga considered giving a long explanation about how Madame Blanche was a gypsy who could do both voodoo and hoodoo and things she ain't even tried, but she never got the chance before the woman herself appeared outside her shop.

Madame Blanche had frizzy, black hair that framed her whole face. She was wearing a lilac shirt with puff sleeves and red, blue and yellow beads sewn around the sleeves and under her chest. A long yellow skirt covered her legs, red and green beads thrown around her hips like a loose belt. She was also wearing golden jewelry in her ears, around her neck and on her fingers. Her skin was the color of mocha and the mouth, that was just about to yell, was Devil red.

"Which one of you brats did this?!" she asked and no one hesitated to point at Arnold, who gulped once more. "I-I'm really sorry, ma'am. I-I'll help you clean up and I'll pay - - "

Arnold never got to finish his apology before Madame Blanche had reached him and was now holding him by his collar. "No need for that, young man. I have my own way of dealing with things like this." she said and leaned her mouth close to his ear. The teenagers all watched with fear and fascination as the woman muttered some incomprehensible words in his ear. For a moment, a mere second, Arnold's green eyes shined like emeralds only to go back to their natural shade. Madame Blanche abruptly let go of his shirt and he fell to the ground with a thud. She shot him a satisfied glare and then turned on her heel to go back inside her store.

The teenagers instantly ran to Arnold, all sprouting words of concern and confusion for Arnold, but his eyes seemed far off in the distant, his pupils oddly dilated. "Wake up, Football Head!" Helga ordered in annoyance, successfully hiding her concern for him. When he didn't react, she crouched and snapped her fingers in front of him. He shook his head and started blinking, his pupils going smaller with each blink that he made. "Wha…?" he muttered and looked at Helga with eyes that were still a little brighter than usual, but not so bright anyone could see it with the bare eye.

"You ok, man?" Gerald asked who was standing next to Arnold. "I, uh… guess so." He replied. "I reckon you just dodged a bullet, Arnold. All, that woman did was scold you and then leave like nothing had happened." Stinky said. "Yeah…" Arnold murmured and looked at Helga who had just un-crouched. "Well, since I doubt Madame Witch is willing to give us our ball back, the game is over. I'm heading home." She announced and was about to leave when Arnold grabbed her leg. "Mind helping me up?" he asked and she looked at him in incredulity. "Why me? Ask Tall Hair Boy!"

Helga had expected Arnold to let go of her, but he didn't. "Oh, just help me up, Helga!" he barked, causing everyone around him to gawk in surprise. Helga stared at him for a moment, wondering if the boy had hit his head since he was stupid enough to argue against the girl with the iron fists, but then she rolled her eyes and offered him her hand.

"You could have thrown a 'please' in there." She pointed out sarcastically as she hoisted him up. Once he was standing, rather than letting go of her hand like most people would have, he stepped closer to her. "Please." He whispered with a somewhat sultry tone in his voice that sounded more than a little bit out of character.

Helga could have sworn that her heart stopped beating as Arnold's eyes seemed to be all she could see right then. He let go of her hand and walked towards his bike. "You coming, Gerald?" he asked and the dark boy followed him. While her classmates scattered to find their bikes, and the few lucky ones, their cars, Helga approached Phoebe. "I think Arnold must have hit his head; he actually had the balls to talk back at me!" she hissed in shock and stuck her tongue out at Arnold when he drove by on his bike. He just ignored her like she had expected and yet, it surprised her due to what had happened just before.

"Oh, I'm sure you're just reading too much into it, Helga. Arnold was probably just frightened after what happened with Madame Blanche." Phoebe insisted, but that just made Helga shake her head. "That's another thing. Madame Blanche is a woman who wouldn't ever let something like what Arnold did go un-punished, even if he did apologize too many times to count."

"Perhaps she was in a good mood this afternoon?"

"Phoebe. The woman's eyes were practically shooting daggers at Arnold. If she had been in a good mood then that was over as soon as that ball came flying through her window." Helga retorted and started walking towards her bike. I knew I should have taken Bob's car instead. She thought as she unlocked her bike.

"Well, he got out of it without any broken bones or a check on his hands. Perhaps he is just lucky per usual?" Phoebe suggested as she unlocked her own bike and mounted it. "Yeah." Helga said and mounted her own bike. "Happy, go-lucky Football Head."

Once Arnold and Gerald had locked their bikes outside Sunset Arms, they walked inside in hope of finding a quick snack before dinner. "Hi there, Shortman." Arnold's grandpa greeted, looking at them over his newspaper. "Hi, grandpa." Arnold replied. "Hey, Phil!" Gerald chimed in and clicked with his tongue as he shaped his hand into a gun. Phil copied the gesture, although he was unsure what it meant and went back to his newspaper. The boys snickered as they walked into the kitchen.

"Anything interesting happening in your world today, Arnold?" Phil asked from the living room. Gerald looked questioningly at Arnold who shrugged as he opened one of the cabinets. "Oh, the usual." Arnold answered before Gerald smirked. "Yeah, playing baseball, getting cursed, fighting with Helga. Nothing new." Gerald continued, noticing the smirk on Arnold's face when he mentioned Helga's name.

Phil hummed, indicating that he had heard them without listening. The boys smiled and started counting together. "Three, two, one..." they whispered in unison before they could hear the sound of Phil yelling and crumbling his newspaper before throwing it to the floor. "Cursed?! Oh, no, Arnold. Are you going to die? Who cursed you?! Pookie, get me my rifle!" he yelled before storming into the kitchen where the boys were. Gertie's voice could be heard upstairs. "No can do! I'm using it!"

"For what?"

"I am still haunting the mischievous butterfly that landed on your raspberry pudding this morning!"

"Ow, my stomach..." Phil grunted at the reminder, but then frowned. "Wait! Pookie - - " he shouted, but his words were drowned by the sound of a gunshot. They all covered their ears in shock and Arnold dropped the bag of cookies on the floor in the process. It was quiet for a long moment before Gertie's voice roared from upstairs. "I didn't get it!" she declared, but rather than another gunshot, the sound of Gertie simply throwing the rifle to the ground and her cursing it for having a bad aim echoed from upstairs.

Phil and Arnold sighed, while Gerald simply blinked in confusion. "Maybe you should lock that rifle in a cage and throw the key away?" Gerald suggested and grabbed the bag of cookies. "We did." Arnold and Phil replied in unison, causing Gerald to almost drop the cookies again.

"So, Shortman, what was that about a curse?" Phil asked, much calmer this time around. "Nothing." Arnold replied, grabbed the cookies from Gerald and took a bowl from inside a different cabinet. "We were playing baseball and I accidentally hit the window into Madame Blanche's shop and she - - " Arnold continued, but gasped when he heard his grandpa do so. "Madame Blanche?" he repeated with horror dripping in his already slightly shaky voice due to his age. "You didn't…? To Madame Blanche…? Arnold, that woman is wicked!" he continued with his eyes bulging out of his eye sockets. The two teenagers looked at each other quizzically, but also a little frightened.

"That woman is said to have always lived in Hillwood." Phil continued and put his arm over his nose and mouth for effect and moved around with his back hunched over. "She has been here for many years, far longer than any of us has even lived. Our town was originally an ordinary forest many, many years ago and even then, Madame Blanche lived here. She swore revenge on every citizen that would ever cross her path. My best friend from my childhood, Jimmy Kafka and I also used to play baseball and one day, in front of her store, we accidentally broke her window, just like you did today, Arnold… and guess what?" Phil asked and got so close to Arnold that their noses were touching. "I never saw him again!"

Arnold could hear Gerald gulp nervously next to him before he wrapped his arms around him. "I don't wanna lose my best friend!" he whined dramatically and Arnold smiled for a moment. "You won't. Grandpa, that story can't possibly be true." He said and Gerald let go of him to shoot him a questioning glare. "Oh, and why not?" Phil asked and crossed his arms defensively.

Arnold copied his action. "Because I've met Jimmy Kafka and he is alive and well even to this day." He answered. Phil watched him for a moment before closing in on him. Arnold didn't falter though and Phil blew a raspberry at him. "You're no fun anymore, Shortman! You're getting old and boring." He declared and waved his hands in dismissal, causing Arnold to smirk in triumph.

"But I would still watch my back if I were you, Arnold. That woman is bad news." Phil insisted and walked out of the kitchen. "If everyone in this town thinks the way you do, Grandpa, then it's possible she's just a lonely woman." Arnold insisted and turned to grab the cookies from the counter. Phil didn't reply from inside the living room and when the boys walked through the room, they noticed that he was already deeply emerged into his newspaper back at the very first page. Arnold shook his head at the image and smiled at Gerald who shrugged.

"You not nervous at all, Arnold? Your grandpa may be a bit of an old coot, but what if Madame Blanche really does know voodoo or black magic or whatever?" Gerald asked before sticking his hand into the cookie bag. Arnold shook his head while they walked up the stairs. "I don't believe in superstition, Gerald. Don't you remember back in fourth grade when Wolfgang and Edmund challenged us to do a bunch of things that's supposed to give people bad luck?"

"Yeah, and if I remember correctly too, we did actually go to Madame Blanche's shop to get a good-luck kit."

"But Wolfgang and Edmund were behind all of our bad luck, so we didn't need that good-luck kit to begin with. I didn't believe in superstition back then and I don't do now either. There's no way Madame Blanche put an actual curse on me."

"You say that, but if you think about it, doesn't Madame Blanche look exactly the same since seven years ago? She hasn't aged a goddamn bit!"

"Women age like fine wine, Gerald." Arnold retorted with a smirk and Gerald scowled at him. "That's a line you learned from me!"

The next day at school, Arnold still couldn't feel anything special since Madame Blanche had supposedly put a curse on him. He had never believe something would happen, but Gerald still seemed nervous around him. Even after fourth grade of having been shown that bad luck didn't exist, he still wasn't sure if other stuff didn't exist; like Madame Blanche's curse. "You sure you're not feeling anything?" Gerald asked as he and Arnold grabbed their trays from the lunch lady.

Arnold sighed. That's the seventeenth time he's asked me today. He thought and shook his head. "I feel the same as always, Gerald. My apologies." He replied sarcastically and Gerald sighed. "I guess voodoo really doesn't exist then." He muttered and Arnold shot him a questioning look. "You sound disappointed?" he asked and Gerald moved his head unsurely from side to side. "I'm not sure, but if voodoo had been real, I would have asked Madame Blanche to make me her apprentice!"

The two boys started laughing, not at all watching where they were going. Before Arnold could turn his eyes back to where he was walking, he crashed into someone. With a yell, he landed on the floor, his tray slipping out of his hands as he managed to land on something softer than the floor. He heard a female voice grunt in pain and he opened his eyes. Beneath him, with her back against the floor and her clothes filled with all sorts of food, was Helga Pataki. Panic instantly started flooding inside Arnold and he sat up on his knees quickly. "Helga, I'm so sorry! I wasn't watching where I was going." He explained and she sat up, rubbing the back of her head. "Are you hurt?"

"Yes, that fucking hurt, Football Head! Watch where you're going! You always crash into me!" Helga yelled, twitching her face in pain as her fingers found the bump on the back of her head. Guilt overtook Arnold's face. "L-Let me see." He requested and twisted his body around her to look at her head, but she instantly turned away from him.

"Just stay away from me, will you?! You've got bad luck written all over you." Helga said before attempting to stand up, but slipping in some food and landing on Arnold's chest instead, causing him to be the one to crash against the floor. They both hissed in pain, barely noticing the snickers around them from their peers watching them.

When Arnold opened his eyes again, Helga didn't notice the change of shade in them. She shook her head and started scowling at him. She opened her mouth to speak, but Arnold beat her to it. "Clumsy, aren't we?" he asked sarcastically, an uncharacteristic smirk starting to spread on his face. Helga would usually have questioned him talking back at her, like she had done yesterday, but she was already so angry and embarrassed that she hardly noticed how out of character he truly was.

"Me?!" she repeated in disbelief. "You're the one who crashed into me, Arnold-o!" she pointed out and tried to stand up, but her knee slipped and she fell right back in Arnold's embrace, earning a few laughs from her peers.

"Like I said…" Arnold said and wrapped his arms around Helga's waist. She made a small, choked gasp in surprise when he turned them around so that he was on top of her instead. She had shut her eyes, expecting to feel the floor slamming against the back of her head, but Arnold's hand had cushioned her. "Clumsy." He stated and she opened her eyes, staring at him in disbelief.

Arnold managed to get himself standing up with ease, leaving Helga on the floor alone for a moment before offering her his hand. She shot him a slanted look. "I don't want your help!" she insisted and tried to get up, but her feet slipped almost instantly and she automatically grabbed his hand. "It looks like you need it though." Arnold pointed out and pulled Helga up in one swift motion, shooting her a smug smile, she wasn't sure how to respond to.

She whipped her hand out of his grasp, scowling at him before looking down at herself. "Criminy, I look like I've been in a food fight!" she stated before scowling at Arnold again. "I'm not sure what's wrong with you today, Shortman, but I swear I will - - "

"You'll what?" Arnold interrupted and leaned closer to Helga, so close that all she could see was his emerald eyes. She hesitated for a moment, the scowl disappearing from her face, but then it quickly returned. "I'll get you back for this." She replied and turned around. "Phoebe, help me clean up!" she ordered and the short Asian girl instantly followed her. "Cleaning." She said and waved some noodles out of Helga's hair as they walked out of the cafeteria.

Arnold snickered at the display before he felt a hand on his shoulder. "What the hell was that?" Gerald asked and Arnold to look at him, a look of pure confusion on his face as he blinked. "What was what?" he asked. Gerald frowned at him. "You know, if you start spontaneously flirting with Helga like that, she's going to notice that you, um… you know." He whispered secretively, his eyes quickly scanning the room to make sure that no one was listening.

Arnold blinked in shock. "Flirting? I fell on top of her by accident, Gerald. It wasn't on purpose." He said and turned his eyes towards the floor. "Oh, I better get a mop." He said and turned around to head towards the janitor's closet, leaving a dumbfounded Gerald in the cafeteria.

"What is wrong with him?!" Helga shouted in the hallway as Phoebe walked in front of her and opened the door into the girls' restroom. "I am sure it was an honest mistake, Helga. Arnold would never crash into you like that on purpose." Phoebe insisted before following Helga into the restroom.

"I'm not talking about that, Phoebe! Arnold and I crashing into each other is nothing new. I'm talking about his goddamn attitude afterwards!" she retorted and looked at herself in the mirror, changing her voice into a much deeper one. "Clumsy, aren't we? It looks like you need it. You'll what? What was that?!"

"Perhaps Arnold is feeling more rebellious lately. We are after all in an age where we start to wish to rebel against those with a higher status. Arnold does not have any parents to rebel against, so perhaps you're the only higher status he has?"

"What about his grandparents?"

"His grandparents cannot keep focus on one thing long enough to notice a change in Arnold's nature." Phoebe responded, wetting her handkerchief and starting to rub it on some spots on Helga's clothes. "Arnold is not the rebellious type, even at the age of sixteen. It's too weird." Helga muttered and wiped some tapioca pudding off her jeans. "Also, I could have sworn he was looking at me funny."

"What kind of funny?"

"Like the way Gerald looks at you." Helga teased and snickered when she saw the evident blush spread on Phoebe's face. "H-Helga!" she stuttered in embarrassment. "I'm just teasing you, Phoebs, but Gerald really should make a move already. If he keeps waiting around for you, you two will get nowhere." Helga said thoughtfully, watching the blush grow deeper on Phoebe's face. "I-I am quite satisfied with how things are now." She insisted.

Helga rolled her eyes. "Satisfied with what? Stolen glances in the hallways and a casual chat every now and then? How is that at all satisfactory?" she asked and Phoebe frowned. "I don't see you and Arnold strolling around hand-in-hand." She muttered and Helga choked in surprise. Phoebe gasped and looked up at her blonde friend. "I-I'm sorry."

"No, it's ok. You're right. I've been in love with Arnold for how many years and I haven't done anything about it."

"You did tell him your feelings once though. That's more than I have…"

"And then I took them back, pretending it was in the heat of the moment! And Arnold let me… That's more than enough answer." Helga insisted, looking at her reflection. Phoebe squeezed her hand. "Helga…" she whispered soothingly and Helga smiled at her halfheartedly.

"I'm ok. It just pisses me off that even though I know he'll never love me back, I continue to love him. Why can't I just forget him? I've tried everything! I got rid of all the poems, the statues I made of him, the god-awful shrine! I threw everything out except - - " Helga ranted, but stopped herself, her hand automatically going to her chest, touching the golden heart-shaped locket hidden beneath her clothes. "This… stupid thing…" she muttered and squeezed the locket in her hand.

"It's not stupid, Helga." Phoebe insisted. "It's creepy, is what it is. I was a messed up kid." Helga retorted and pulled the locked out of her blouse to look at it. "No, you weren't. You were passionate and a bit… eccentric. Like Gertrude." Phoebe insisted and Helga shot her a dirty glare. "You're comparing me to the grandma of the boy I am in love with?" she questioned.

Phoebe bit on her lip. "That was perhaps not the wisest way of putting it, but I am just trying to show you that Arnold is already used to eccentric people around him. Perhaps he wouldn't find you weird at all if you just gave him the chance?" she suggested. Helga shook her head though and threw the paper towel in her hand into the trashcan. "No way." She replied and walked past Phoebe. "I'm going home, Phoebs. I'm not… feeling well."

"Want me to follow you home?"

"And be responsible for messing with your perfect attendance? Hell no. See you tomorrow, Phoebe." Helga said and waved at the Asian girl who waved back with an encouraging smile. Helga sighed as soon as she had closed the door behind her and started walking towards her locker. I guess this is the way it's going to be. My heart will forever belong to a boy who will never love me back. If he ever starts caring for me, it'll only be as a friend. She thought and opened her locker with robotic movements, barely noticing what she was doing.

Helga grabbed the books and shoved them into her bag, which she usually left in the locker whenever she would head to lunch. She refused to carry that bag around 24/7 like most of the girls in her class did. It wasn't like she had her make-up in it too like the other girls. She didn't even wear make-up unless it was a special occasion.

Helga grunted in annoyance, a headache from having hit her head before starting to grow. She swung her bag around, attempting to get it over her shoulder, but then it hit something. "Hey!" a male voice said in shock and she looked towards the voice, noticing Arnold standing next to her with a mop in his hands. She looked at him in astonishment, her vision a little blurry, but she could see that he was surprised at seeing her.

"Helga, are you ok?" Arnold asked worriedly, readjusting the mop over his shoulder. "Huh? Why wouldn't I be?" she asked and blinked, feeling a tear run down her cheek. She choked in realization and wiped the tear away in panic. "Did you really hurt yourself before?" Arnold asked and lifted a hand towards her. She froze with her hand still against her cheek as his hand went to her temple. "You sure you shouldn't go and see the nurse?"

Helga almost blushed at the gentle touch, but she scowled deeply to hide it before she smacked Arnold's hand, successfully causing him to flinch and pull away. "I'm fine, Football Head!" she insisted, refusing to look in his direction. Arnold had expected her to push his hand away, but the way her voice was shaking was new and he wasn't sure he liked it.

'If you start spontaneously flirting with Helga…' Arnold remembered Gerald had said to him earlier. N-No way. I'm not flirting! But… Helga really is acting weird. Did she figure it out? He wondered and opened his mouth to speak again. "Look, I'm not sure what's wrong with you today, but leave me out of it." Helga said before he could say anything and turned her back to him.

Arnold started frowning, barely noticing that his eyes hurt a bit. He followed Helga and before she could reach for the door, he swung the mop in front of her and stopped her from moving any further. She gawked at him. "Are you insane?!" she asked and tried to move under it, but he just lowered the mop. "You're asking me if I'm insane? You're acting just as weird if not more!" he replied and felt his eyes burning.

Helga grunted at him and was about to yell until she saw a flash in his eyes. She looked at him in shock, but didn't manage to ask him about it before he swung the mop around and pushed it against her chest. She dropped her bag as she leaned against the wall behind her, her hands holding on the stick to push it away, but he was stronger than he looked. "What are you doing?!"

"Getting answers." Arnold answered and moved closer to Helga, dangerously close she thought. Her knuckles turned white as she tightened her grip on the mop, but she still couldn't move it a mere inch. "Why are you so aggressive? Isn't that my thing?" she asked and tried to kick him, but he just moved even closer to her, forcing her waist to stay still against his own. She gulped at the sudden proximity and felt her heart get stuck in her throat.

"Wha'… What are you doing?" Helga asked and wiggled her hips to get free, but that didn't help, he just moved even closer to her. "I'm just making sure that you know how things are going to be from now on." He answered with a smirk before he forced her hands up against the wall. She cried in pain at the feeling of the tree rubbing against her palms, but the pain was small compared to the way her heart was beating embarrassingly hard against her ribcage.

"How things are… going to be…? What are you talking about?" Helga asked, feeling her cheeks start to redden uncharacteristically. Arnold moved his chest against hers, making the fact that her heart was beating so much quicker than his more obvious. "I'm done being your prey, Helga…" He explained and then the corner of his mouth went up in a predatory smirk that made her inhale sharply. "I think it's time you felt how it is to be the hunted." He whispered, his nose caressing hers before he let completely go of her.

Helga fell to the ground, realizing that her legs had gone all putty and that the mop had been the only thing keeping her standing for a while. Her eyes were the size of teacups as she stared at Arnold's feet walking away. Her face was scarlet red, her skin covered in goose bumps and her limps were shaking. She could hear a little voice inside her head telling her that this was oh-so wrong and oh-so… interesting.

Author's 2nd note: And that was the very first chapter! I really love a Dark Arnold… it's kind of like, I think Helga could use someone who can actually challenge her and to me, Arnold as he is normally can't. He's too kind, which is a good thing on different matters, but I'm missing a little bit more of attitude in him sometimes, but that's partially why I'm making this story. I want Arnold to take some charge and for Helga to have to fight for once xD

As always, feel more than free to draw fan art or cover art for this! :D