Disclaimer: If I owned Artemis Fowl...hmm...(thinks evil thoughts)

Hello everybody! I haven't been around to do anything in the Artemis Fowl fandom for a long, long time. But I recently got my hands on a copy of The Last Colony despite myself and found myself re-addicted. It's like a drug! So this is where this crazy inspiration comes from. Needless to say, spoilers for TLC.

Also, another note: I am sorry to whoever (whomever?) I offend with these oneshots and alternate endings. Go ahead and flame me, this is my wretched and sick way of having fun. This is just a statement of my opinion and a writing exercise for me. I do not hate Minerva, but I do like the idea of Artemis being the only child genius around, hence this…I really am sorry, but if you support ArtemisMinerva, you should probably stop reading…right about…here.

A/N: (Sorry, this is the last note!) This one takes place after Artemis and co. head to Hybras, but before they come back. Also, as of right now I've only read TLC once (usually I reread stuff a million times before I write about it) so I apologize if I get stuff wrong about the details.

Number 1

Minerva Paradizo sighed. It was just past the one year mark of Artemis disappearing off to Hybras. She tapped her fingers in a rhythmic beat on the wood desk in front of her; she was in her father's rebuilt mansion, one of the more secluded, unused rooms for that. For any normal insanely-rich cosmetic surgeon, it would have taken years to rebuild the structure, but Gaspard Paradizo knew the best, which made the time significantly shorter. Minerva would not have it any other way; she still retained her stubborn, reckless attitude from her youth.

Her youth. She smiled bitterly. Only thirteen and what was she calling her past? Minerva was hardly finished with childhood herself. Look at you, she thought, look at how you've changed since…since…

She missed Artemis.

It was more than funny; it was utterly ironic how deluded she had been before. Believing that he was trying to steal 'her' acclaimed prize, that he was her enemy. After all he had done and she'd repaid him by causing him and the others to travel to another dimension filled with bloodlusting demons. It was suicide, no, it was homicide. Indirectly so, but it was still her fault.

No. She tightened her grip on the armrests of the desk chair she sat in. Artemis wasn't dead, nor the others. How could she believe that? He was a genius, like her. He would find some way out, some brilliant way to save the world above and belowground. After all, it wasn't as if it was the first time. She had to have faith.

Despite this, she groaned aloud. Even Butler couldn't convince her that she was not to blame. It was her stupid attitude that had not allowed her to leave Kong alone until he was unconscious. She had to go provoke him with her wordy insults. And looking back; why? It wasn't as if her words would change him whatsoever, and she knew this. But she had to get the last laugh. She always had to get the last laugh. And look where it got her this time.

Minerva pulled open a desk drawer. The desk was a sturdy antique but had lain unused for the longest period of time with nothing to put in it. She had all but abandoned her other-worldly studies now, she didn't want to risk causing any more trauma. And she didn't want to remember what she had caused earlier. She should have been able to forgive herself as easily as when she had nearly exposed to humans an endangered species, but this was different. This was harder for some reason.

The drawer jerked at its end, having been pulled open so quickly. A thick cloud of dust made her eyes water and she looked at the drawer. It was as empty as it had been for every single day since the mansion was in livable conditions again. Nothing had changed. She traced a name into the fine layer of dust accumulating on the wood surface.

Artemis Fowl

When was he coming back?

A knock at the door disrupted her. She closed the desk drawer and spun around in her chair to face the door of the room. "Come in."

It was Beau. He had a hopeful look on his face as he said, "Chocolate?"

Minerva sighed. How blissfully ignorant her brother was of the past two years' events! She almost envied him, he hadn't changed at all.

"No, not now Beau. No chocolate."

Beau's eyes began to water and he put on a pouty face.

"No, Beau. I'm sorry."

Seeing as the puppy-eyes look wasn't going to do much for him, Minerva's little brother straightened his face out to look defiant. "I want chocolate!"

"You just had chocolate an hour ago."

"But I took a nap! I want more chocolate."

"Beau, dinner is in an hour," Minerva said patiently. "You don't want to ruin your appetite with chocolate."

Beau stamped his foot on the wood floor. "Chocolate!"

"No." She said firmly, beginning to get annoyed.

"Give me chocolate!"

"No, you little brat, now scram!" She pointed at the door tersely.

Beau took it as his prerogative to stomp his way out of the room, making agitated noises and slamming the door behind him. Minerva sighed yet again and sank into her chair, rubbing her temples.

Not even five minutes later, there was another knock at the door. This one was more cautious and quiet, as if whoever was behind it was merely testing to see if someone was there. Minerva overlooked this as she shouted from the room, "No chocolate, Beau!"

Suddenly, the door swung wide open and all the color drained from Minerva's face.

She was staring down at a gun pointed at her heart, a highly technical, dangerous one no doubt. She could look past the gun but what she saw around it was not more reassuring. A score of black-clad figures with cliché-styled bowler hats pulled over their head and faces (save for eye slits) crowded around a leader. Assassins. But who were they? And how did they get past the security?

The one holding the gun moved forward so the gun was not even six inches from her chest. He literally seemed to growl. The others all had guns too and strangely enough, they were all pointed at her as well. What a perfect situation.

Minerva swallowed, keeping her composure. She made sure her face was blank and did not betray fright. "What do you want?" Her voice rang out loud and clear over the otherwise silent room.

It had been the wrong thing to say. The gun holder threatened her without a trace of morals, in a way that was a bit too familiar. "Shut up, little girl!"

She swallowed again, trying to think, but her mind was pitifully blank. What would Artemis do…? She couldn't formulate a plan, not with all this life-or-death stress on her.

She decided to risk one more question seeing as there was no immediate way to get out of the situation. "What are you here for?"

"To kill you, what does it look like?" the man spoke back in harsh tones. "And you will die, this time."

Credit to Minerva, she tried to talk her way out, Artemis style. "If it is money you want, I have quite a large sum of it. You need not threaten lives."

The man snorted, anger beginning to make his aim loosen. Something that never would have happened otherwise, but this was too important. He was literally on the brink of redemption. Despite himself, he let himself go on a little tirade. It was the least he could do. "Money? Money! You think it's money that I wish to gain from this! No amount of money could compare to what I have in store! You…you have ruined my best and only chances for my avengement, little girl…and you shall pay!"

And he finally pulled the trigger.

-

The shot was given from abnormally shaky hands, but only veered an inch or two off target. The air seemed to explode on contact with the bullet. It blasted Minerva straight off her desk chair and her fragile body did a mini-arc in the air before it hit the ground.

The rich smell of blood filled her nostrils. It's over for me, she thought. Artemis…

She barely felt the pain and her vision was fading already. She tried to cling onto logical matter, but it was too late, she was already slipping…So nearly impossible she should die like this, but yet it had happened. And she hadn't been able to stop it. Her heartbeat seemed to fill her head, pulsing in her chest, pushing her very lifeblood out of her earthly body.

Maniacal laughter filled her damaged eardrums for just a second, then she was aware of the bodies fleeting past her. At her very last heartbeat and breath, she was aware of something. Her vision was yellowing, shapes were stretching in and out of proportion, but as the last figure ran by her…It was the man who had pulled the trigger and led to her unlikely demise, and just as she began to close her eyes forever, she swore she saw gelled, spiked hair…

-

Outside of the Paradizo mansion, Jonah Lee heard sirens approaching. His backup workmen had by now all fled, not like he cared. His life was over one way or another, but so was the brat's now. She was the only one who he had access to, the only one who had stopped him from his demons…the only one to feel his rage.

Jonah grinned as the police cars approached, staying in his spot, the gun still held in his hand, though he required no more shots or use from it. He spit on the ground, still grinning.

That was for you, Eric.

A/N: I'm sorry, that was a lame start. But I had to get this out even if it didn't make sense and left a lot of loose ends.