A/N: I know. I know. I shouldn't be doing this. But being honest, this has been in the works alongside my other two stories. So I decided to give through it in with today's updates. I will keep the rating T for now. But I shall note that it will be upgraded to M, very shortly. This story will deal with much more serious themes. Now, before you read, let me explain this story.

Now, how many Romeo and Juliet stories are out there? Will, there are some in Hollywood, with a more modern take. The original. Heck, just to make sure I wasn't the only one, I've even seen a few here with Kim and Ron taking the roles of Romeo and Juliet, respectively with their own take. Sometimes its playing the roles in a play and how it effects their high school lives, while another is a Kim Possible take on the Shakespeare's famous play.

This story is a fusion between my favorite series in high school, Kim Possible, and my favorite series in my twenties. It's more like the latter example, where I put Ron and others in another set of shoes so to speak and where this would lead them. I won't reveal the series just yet, I don't want all of you to go spoil it for yourselves. Instead, I've taken a very interesting take from Kim Possible and the characters and fused them with this 'idea' I was introduced to. In the end, I will give credit where it is due. However, the story will have its own twists down the line. I mean, it is Kim Possible.

So yea. This isn't a play. Instead, I wanted to experiment with Kim and Ron and their 'extremes.' I don't want to ramble on.

So without further ado. Enjoy and let me know if you want more. As always. Please review!


Chapter 1 Sign Up Part I

I.

The light dimmed by the minute, the vaulted ceiling overhead disappearing into the darkness, as the sick purplish-black light sank to the doric columns and marbled floor below. A floor that carried the seat of a past, pitched battle between unknown and forgotten combatants. Debris and wreckage overwhelmed the surroundings, save for two bodies, the vaulted room's only occupants.

A girl with red hair, dressed in blue-jean pants and a green crop top leaned over on her knees with her hands pressed against another motionless body. One with messy blond hair, a red jersey and cargo pants.

"Hey," she shook the boy's body. "Ha-ha. Very funny."

The boy didn't wake.

"C'mon now."

The girl pressed down harder and began a vigorous attempt to wake him. Her once green eyes brimmed with tears against the purple light that drowned the scene. "You're scaring me."

Her cries of desperation went unheard as the boy's chest remained still, his skin cold and unwelcoming.

Beside the boy lay various poisons one would have thought relegated to the days of old, where death was truly a relief against the suffering and horrors that encroached upon them.

Potassium Cyanide, used syringes, and a variety of deathly pills and medical apparatuses lay beside the boy's head. The scene of a true tragedy as the purple light faded away, drowned out by the darkness and the girl's loud sobs.

II.

The darkness lifted in the room, cast away by the rising moon outside. Its light revealed very little of the rather bare area, save for the large metal cage in its center, that festered with rotted food and unidentifiable red and brown matter piled up in the far corner.

At the center of the cage, two bodies in various stages of decomposition lay undisturbed, the night moon the only outside witness to the crimes that had been committed behind closed doors.

Huddled against the wall by the door, a girl with red hair and dull, empty green eyes lifted her gaze out of the comfort of her crossed arms that rested on her knees and found her eyes glued to the cage she at one time inhabited. Keeping her body huddled up was the only way for her to keep warm with the electricity out and therefore, no heater. All they afforded her were the clothes she wore and the little heat her body radiated in her malnourished state. Looking closely, one would find that she resorted to eating her own clothes to keep herself fed.

At least they used to.

Now she sat alone in the empty room.

"Mom… dad…"

The girl didn't know what words to utter next to her now long deceased parents. What was there to say to her ever so loving parents? Parents that fed her, kept her safe, kept her clothed, and gave her a room to stay.

Did she thank them?

Was she sorry for what she did to them?

She didn't know. Her mind went blank.

A thud to her right drew her attention. Who could or would try to enter her home and navigate the pitch black halls? The only light came from the moon outside.

She lifted her head in the sound's direction and found a set of familiar, glowing emerald eyes that towered over her. Shimmering silver, a hatchet, hung over and behind them.

Her eyes grew wide in terror.

The hatchet crashed down upon her.

Blood spattered against the wooden floorboards and stained the walls, as the only other occupant of the room, an old costume of an ill-conceived pony with a frightening smile, watched with an empty gaze as a new murder unfolded.

Dark crimson blood flowed across the floor.

The girl cried with her last dying breaths.

"Please… Ron… help me."

III.

Ron sat up in his bed, his blanket wrapped around him and over his head like a cowl that hid himself from the sun's morning rays. He closed his eyes, almost surprised that he woke up to another day alive in the city of Middleton. It wasn't his wish. He didn't even want to wake up. Nothing had changed from yesterday or the day before that.

He opened his eyes to the sound of his phone vibrating and something that scurried up the bedside and underneath the blankets in which he hid. His pet, or rather one of his only friends, his Naked Mole Rat, Rufus, popped up on his lap and handed him his phone before he pointed his tiny paws at his school bag and the door.

"School. School!"

His Naked Mole Rat was strange because it was far more intelligent that most other animals were, capable of limited speech and able to communicate with Ron.

"Yeah, I know, buddy. I know."

Ron replied with a dreary voice as he lost himself while his phone buzzed.

IV.

4/21 15:30 Middleton High School

The school bell rang. School was over. Any kid's first thought from the moment they woke up on a weekday was when was school going to get out.

Feet shuffled and chairs sifted and squealed across old wooden floors as high-schoolers in mass rose from their seats, excited for the rest of the afternoon and the evening ahead.

"Hey! HEY!" Mr. Barkin shouted. "I'd like to remind everyone that there are some crazy things happening out there right now. Real unpleasant things. Keep that in mind on your way home today," Mr. Barkin reminded the students before they all went to their separate groups and then their separate ways. "Class monitor!"

The class monitor stood. "Right. Class dismissed," she said.

Ron unfolded his phone under his desk and typed away.

Two rows ahead, a group of students discussed a meetup at the park down the road to play basketball.

"The courts are open, right?" the first boy of the group said.

Another boy answered his question. "It is if we get there fast enough. The middle-school gets out in an hour."

"We don't have enough people," another replied.

"Then we find some," the first said.

"What about Stoppable?" One asked.

They all turned to Ron, whose gaze was stuck on his phone.

"Trust me, he won't join. It's a waste even trying to ask him," another in the group stated as their looks turned to ones of disdain and misunderstanding.

Another boy tried to reason with them. "Are you sure? Seems like a nice guy." He turned to Ron. "Hey, Stoppable. Are you game?"

The other boy grabbed his shoulder. "I said leave it be. Trust me, the guy's a total weirdo. C'mon, he doesn't have any friends other than that weird naked rat he carries around and his nose is always stuck in that phone of his."

Ron heard enough, grabbed his bag, threw it over his shoulder, and walked out of the classroom. True to his classmate's statement, he kept his eyes glued to his phone's screen.

The boys continued to talk as Ron typed away.

"What's all that crap about typing in his phone all the time?"

"I don't know. Rumor is that he keeps a diary on it."

4/21 15:30 [School Class 2-B] Homeroom ends

4/21 15:32 [School Class 2-B] Most of the other students leave the class.

Ron turned out of the door and looked back in as Mr. Barkin gathered his papers and turned to an all familiar girl that most of the school adored.

Kim Possible.

She stayed seated at her desk as two other girls, Heather and Jessica, stood over her.

Mr. Barkin stopped and turned to the redhead. "Ms. Possible, I'd appreciate it if you'd deliver these to the faculty lounge." Mr. Barkin referenced the boxes on his desk.

"I'd be happy too, Mr. Barkin. I'll get right on it," Kim answered.

"And the librarian could use help later, if you're up for that?"

"Sure."

Ron glimpsed Kim's eyes meet his before he turned back to his phone.

4/21 15:33 [School Class 2-B] Victor and his friends are going to play basketball.

4/21 15:35 [School Class 2-B] Kim agrees to help Mr. Barkin.

Ron continued his way through the halls and out of the school. Rufus scurried up his shoulders and stuck his tongue out back at the institution that Ron felt zero emotion for.

"Don't worry, buddy. They just don't understand is all. They're being normal."

As Ron typed away in his phone, he lost himself in thought as he talked amongst those thoughts and separated the past from the now, the reasons he got to this point.

"I wasn't always like this. After mom and dad separated back in my latter days of elementary school, I just sort of turned off the rest of the world. Then in middle school, Bueno Nacho shut down, the one place I found solace. I've always felt like something was missing, like a part of me was off balance and my life was missing something. But the memory was a blur and any time I came close to putting my finger on it, it escaped me.

Now, I'm just a bystander, someone who observes the world from the outside.

From everyone else's perspective, I've always been. I've always been chosen last in games or sports, and people have always kept me at arm's length since pre-K. I guess I just keep a journal out of boredom now. I mean, what else am I gonna do?"

Ron turned the corner to his house.

"It's not like I don't have any friends. There's Rufus. He's the one who pretty much keeps me grounded to reality. I still have mom who's overbearing when she is around. Then the rest are just imaginary." Ron thought with a chuckle as he entered his room and climbed into his bed, and enclosed himself within his blanket.

"Deus?"

With his question, Ron closed his eyes and when he opened them, he was in a cavernous room, domed like inside the basilica in Rome but on a grander scale. He removed the covers and lifted his gaze to the center of the room.

"Ron, a moment, please. I'm amending a finer point of causality."

"Sounds like you got a lot on your plate?" Ron stated as a half-question, half-remark.

"Causality benefits from the occasional jolt."

Ron's smile disappeared. "You're not gonna like, start a war or anything, are you?"

Deus glanced his direction. "You dislike violence? Wheels within wheels, lad, just you wait and see."

Deus turned his eyes from the large, almost alien organ he typed into, with its strange gears and pipes. He looked human-like in figure, but was anything but as sitting down. He towered over Ron by at least thirty feet or more.

"You should just bring back Bueno Nacho," Ron muttered.

"That's Deus, my other friend. He's a god. And that thing that we call the universe, that's his baby."

"You still writing in that stupid diary of yours?"

Ron turned to one of his more unsavory friends, a short imp known by the name of Mur Mur.

"Again with the insults. Do you always have to be so insulting?"

The imp sat beside him on his bed and began chewing down on a random corn cob. "I wouldn't have to be if you weren't such a buzzkill. I mean, your only friend is a rodent. And you just write all those random, unorganized thoughts."

"I mean, they kinda have to be. If I included myself in it, then it would defeat the purpose of being objective," Ron replied.

"Big words coming from you. How about you write this down in your journal."

Mur Mur spat out kernels at Ron's face that she just had in her mouth.

"Very mature, Mur Mur." Ron deadpanned.

"Not like you're any better. Writing a stupid diary all the time."

"Besides, it's not like I have anything better to do."

"You could fix your cow-lick. That's an idea."

Ron shook his head and closed his eyes. He opened them, once again back in his bedroom. Rufus slept soundly on his pillow at the head of the bed.

"Are you lonely?" Deus asked.

Ron didn't need to think. "Not really." He gave up on friends long ago.

"Given the opportunity to reinvent yourself, what would you do?" Ron stayed mute. Deus asked. "Say I bestow upon you the gift to see the future."

Ron's phone buzzed. "Who texted me?" he said aloud. He flipped open the phone to find a text from Deus.

"Consider it a gift," his imaginary friend said.

Ron smirked. "Out with it. What are ya cookin' up now?" Drowsiness overtook Ron's logic and senses.

"A diversion of sorts."

Ron chuckled. "Okay old man. I could always pinch myself, ya know."

V.

A terrified young woman ran through the streets, her chest heaving from running so long. Above, on a rooftop in the moon's shadow, a man in a heavy trench coat and mask watched her flee. She turned down a dark alley to a familiar pub she frequented on the weekend nights.

Tonight was a weeknight.

She ran to the door and banged on it as hard as she could, desperate that someone would hear her.

"Open up! Open up! Someone come down and open up!"

Footsteps that clapped against the cold cement of the alley turned her attention away from the door, and to the stocky masked man, with a wide top hat and raincoat. He stalked towards her. The machete in his hand hung ominously at his side.

"Please."

The girl whimpered as she backed into the wall at the end of the alley.

"I'm too young. I'm not ready. Please," she pleaded.

Something moved in the dark corner of the alley beside her. When the girl looked, she saw a pair of bright purple eyes.

The girl screamed as the machete came down upon her. Blood streaked across the wall of the building as the sound of metal hacking into fleshed drowned out her cries.

VI.

Ron awoke from his slumber. Rays of sunshine pierced through the blinds and his alarm clock read six in the morning. Rufus hopped on his bed.

"C'mon. School. Breakfast." Rufus squeaked and rubbed his belly.

Ron smiled. "Alright, little guy. Hold on and just give me a sec."

Ron threw the covers off of him and rolled over to grab his phone off his dresser. He flipped it open and was stunned by what he saw. So stunned that he shot up in bed and read all the journal entries.

4/22 06:32 [My room] I throw a dart and make a bullseye.

4/22 06:42 [Home] Mom leaves early to go to work.

4/22 07:05 [Home] The morning news talks about another death in downtown. Middleton. The local serial killer has struck again, killing another young woman in an alley in a hack and slash attack.

"What the…" Ron read over the journal entries. "Did I sleep text?"

Rufus shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno."

Ron sprang out of bed and threw clothes on. He snapped his dart set, one of the few active hobbies he took up and practiced other than video games. A skill that Ron never imagined he'd become so good at. Ron pinched the dart out of his pouch and lined up his shot with the dartboard.

Straight from his hands to the bullseye.

"No way… A boo-yah!" Ron pumped his fist into the air. He looked back at the phone and all the entries along with the time. "Six thirty-two…"

Ron made note of the coincidence and snatched his bag from the floor while Rufus had just enough time to scamper up Ron's leg and crawl into his cargo pocket.

He skipped into the hall and rushed downstairs to make himself breakfast, and turned on the television. Sure enough, just on cue, the news announced that another grisly murder occurred over night in downtown Middleton. Ron couldn't make heads or tails of what was happening.

Walking to school, Ron watched the journal entries in his phone pop up without his intervention.

4/22 07:41 [Walking to school] Gil Moss and Brad Ceers take the main route to school.

"Wait, this isn't normal. I never see those guys on my way to school. They should be at swim practice?" Ron spoke to himself. He looked back at his phone as it buzzed again.

4/22 09:30 [School Class 2-B] Mr. Barkin gives a surprise math quiz in homeroom.

Just as his phone said, Mr. Barkin surprised the entire class with a pop math quiz that just about everyone groaned about. To Ron's great surprise, though, his phone contained all the answers to the test.

I got the answers?

This is gonna be a breeze. A boo-yah. Who knew this would be such a great thing? Ron breezed through the questions that he usually had difficulty with in normal circumstances.

Many other students weren't so fortunate.

"Mr. B! We didn't cover question twelve," one said.

Mr. Barkin never looked up from his desk. "Pipe down! We went over it last Tuesday."

C'mon guys. This is so easy. Just look at your phone. Oh wait, you guys can't tell the future like I can. Ron heckled to himself. It dawned on Ron. His phone could now tell the future.

After the test, Gil Moss sat on the desk next to him, hands stuffed in his pocket. "Yo dude. How do you think you did on the test?" He asked.

Ron looked up with a smile. "Not as well as you did, I bet."

Gil gave Ron an awkward, oblong look with his oblong wide face before he stood up and walked away. "Why you always gotta be such a suck-up? Squeeb."

Ron glanced down at his phone.

4/22 12:32 [School, Class 2-B] Gil Moss gives me a hard time again.

4/22 14:05 [Home Ec Kitchen] Amelia cuts her hand and has to go to the nurse.

Okay, this is insane.

4/22 16:12 [Walking home] Ran into a couple of detectives doing a sweep around the school. They're on the serial killer case.

Ron rushed home and ran to his bed, and even tossed Rufus to the bed a little harder than usual. His phone's pin-point accurate predictions raised his anxiety and excitement all at the same time.

He closed his eyes and summoned his imaginary friends.

"Deus? Can my phone see…"

"Quite so," Deus answered. "I have an inkling you'll find prognostication very handy."

Ron gazed up at him, unsure of what to make of the word he just used. All he knew was that he could see the future.

"This is impossible. You're a figment of my imagination. How does that translate into knowing my future?" Ron asked. "I mean… I thought you up and I don't know what's coming next."

Deus extended his hand into the air. "Do you believe imagination and reality to be mutually exclusive habitats for an entity of my stature?"

Ron didn't know how to answer, yet Mur Mur, who now used his shoulder as a rest for her elbow, did. "He's a god. He lives where he wants."

"And beware the boon of a god. Yours, in particular, comes at a price. A diary of this kind and its user are as one. Should your phone come to ruin, so shall the march of days it serves as a privileged window upon." His voice grew dark. "Your life will be forfeit."

Ron opened his eyes. He was back in his room. He stared down at his phone.

"A future diary. Oh, man. Everything I've seen… No. Everything I'm going to see is already here. Recorded for my good fortune. Every little detail of what my day has in store."

Ron grinned.

But having future sight didn't necessarily fix everything.

The next day in school, he became more of an outcast as most of the school gossiped about him, envious of his newfound and mysterious fortune. They had posted the recent test scores in the main hall for everyone to see, and to anyone's surprise save Ron's, Ron was the top score with a perfect 100, right above Kim Possible, who usually held the top spot.

It didn't matter to Ron. Ron used his newfound future diary to ace tests, pop quizzes from Mr. Barkin, and to avoid bullies in D-Hall or newer threats from people jealous of his newfound success.

As long as I keep this baby safe, my future is set and I can never go wrong again. The Ron-man is in the house! I have a cheat sheet for life.

VII.

A barricade surrounded an alley in downtown Middleton. The same alleyway that the night before, a young woman ran down to escape, only to meet her grisly end.

A white outline of where her body had been found the morning prior was still stained with her blood. Blood soaked the walls surrounding the horrific scene.

"Same profile as the last one a week ago," sighed one of the forensic analysts.

The detective shook his head. "Poor girl. She never had a chance. You find any significant clues from yesterday?"

"No."

"Well, let's get this one bagged up and see if we can find any new clues down at the lab."

Behind the two stood an inconspicuous woman, her raven hair tied up into a high ponytail, wearing aviators to mask her eyes. She listened carefully to the detectives talk, her fresh coat displaying a badge of the Middleton Police. She blended right in. Only the curl of her snarling grin roused any questions, if anyone could catch it

The woman's smirk grew. The trail's getting hot.

VIII.

Ron sat through another test from Mr. Barkin. While most of the class struggled with another of Mr. Barkin's tests, Ron whizzed by, his eyes glued either on his test paper or his phone that held all the answers.

While the other students bemoaned Mr. Barkin, Ron sped through the questions faster than he'd ever done before, all thanks to his future diary. It made it all possible. Ron had even avoided being beaten up by new bullies, jealous of his newfound success.

More of Ron's classmates complained to Mr. Barkin about the surprise test. Ron smirked. If you guys don't like Mr. B's surprise quizzes, try thinking what I'm thinking. It's not gonna be easy, haha.

Ron glanced up, his eyes mocked the rest of his classmates as he breezed through the test. That was, until his eyes locked with the most popular, smartest, and arguably the hottest girl in school, Kim Possible. Her eyes honed in on him as if she could read his mind. Like she read his thoughts from the gleam he radiated. She gave him a serious look, almost as if she disapproved of his mocking thoughts, before it turned into a small, mischievous smirk that said 'I know your game'. Then she turned back to her test and fiddled with some clay that he noted she never played with before.

What the hell?

Ron's skin crawled, and his eyes trembled. When was the last time Kim Possible looked in his direction, on purpose, and intently on him? Ron couldn't even remember the last time she had. At least not with a thumping heart that drowned out coherent thoughts. Yet, at the moment his thoughts drifted to mocking the rest of the class, that moment he looked, her eyes locked with his.

He drew in a deep breath. 'Kay, what was that all about? Weird.

Ron watched Mr. Barkin stand up and walk in between the desks toward Kim. "Miss Possible. We're taking a test."

"Don't worry Mr. B. I can occupy my brain with two things at once." She paid no mind to Mr. Barkin's hulking presence, unphased and remained focused on the clay.

Mr. Barkin sighed, "Try not to disrupt your classmates."

"I won't," Kim replied. She continued to play with the clay as the rest of the day went on, molding the soft clay between her fingers. What were the chances the most beautiful girl in school, one of the smartest, the idol of the school and beyond, knew Ron's secret? For the rest of the test, these thoughts buzzed in his head.

The rest of the day passed unceremoniously, with as much as half the class taking the rest of the day to finish the test. Ron had left early but forgotten his earphones in his desk, so had to return, even after Mr. Barkin left.

When Ron walked in, he noticed Kim had left the clay she was playing with on her desk. He walked over and his eyes widened at what he saw.

Atop her desk, Kim left the clay molded into the figure of someone all too familiar to Ron. A sculpture of Mur Mur. "No way. Rufus, are you seeing this?" Ron asked his pal.

Rufus scampered up his arm and onto his shoulder. "I dunno." Rufus scratched the top of his head, never seeing Mur Mur himself.

Just then, Ron's phone, his future diary, made a noise much akin to a static television. Something that hadn't happened before. He flipped the phone open to find that the diary entries had changed.

4/28 18:00 [Going home] I think someone is following me.

4/28 18:21 [Inside the building] I am cornered by the random killer and murdered.

DEAD END

"Dead end?" Ron's eyes blurred staring at the words on his screen. His phone could tell the future, and now it foretold his death at the hands of a killer. He turned to his rodent friend. "Rufus, are you seeing this?"

Rufus nodded his head nervously up and down. "Uh, huh."

"What the hell's going on? What happened to the future?"

"Your future. Don't get them confused." A familiar, soft yet confident feminine voice echoed from behind him in tandem with steady footsteps, like those of a predator stalking its prey.

Ron snapped around to find Kim Possible step into the back of the classroom from the back entrance. He froze in the place while his heart beat against his eardrum. From the future entries in his journal, the future now predicted his death by a random killer, and now the most popular girl in the school popped up in the classroom after leaving a clay model of his imaginary friend, Mur Mur, that only he should know since he imagined the rebellious imp up. And she alluded to holding the answers to his questions with an innocent yet slight and curious smile drawn on her face.

"Hey there, Stoppable." She stopped in the back of the classroom and faced Ron down. A mysterious sparkle danced in her eyes.

She knows my name? Ron's jaw dropped, and his skin ran cold. He didn't know whether to be flattered or down right terrified.

His heart raced.

"You got a dead end, right?"

What? She knows! How? Shivers ran down to Ron's feet, urging him to take flight, but her playful eyes kept him grounded, his curious ears desperate to know more.

"How… How did you know that?" Ron's voice trembled.

She advanced toward him, her confident eyes and grin playful yet mysterious. "I saw it coming a mile away."