Many people in the world get that feeling that they are all alone in the world, the only one of their kind and isolated. Sometimes it's because they are unattractive, strange, awkward or simply unable to come in contact with the right people. But luckily (for most of us) this is a temporary stage and we break free at some point or another. But then again there are persons like Abe Sapien. Not many of course; just enough to make up a population of one: him. Sound depressing? He thought so too. He was unlucky enough to be unattractive, strange, awkward and unable to contact people and it wasn't as if this phase would pass like puberty.
Abe Sapien wasn't exactly human and unfortunately that is a requirement in most social circles. Well, he was sort of human. No one was sure what he was except that he had been discovered half alive in a tank with a label from a century previous. Not much can be said of his history or life since there was none until the Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense came along and dropped a load of unholy hell on his species-confused head. To be honest, he sometimes wasn't sure if he was half-fish or half-frog. Most blatantly it was frog when one looked at him but then again he had gills. Generally, frogs didn't have gills past the tadpole stage. Okay, he decided, he was half-amphibious. It was a little better, he supposed.
Since he was currently alone in his apartment in the B.P.R.D. quarters in Connecticut, Abe sighed and looked down at himself wearily. The dull, orange light from his desk lamp glittered oddly on his amphibious, mottled patterned skin. It always looked slight moist and vibrant, smooth in variations of green. It wasn't a badly formed body, he speculated, despite the thin webbing between his toes and fingers. Oh and the gills. But other than that, he was fairly muscled, long and streamlined for swimming in the deepest waters. He was lucky in that aspect; he could weigh three hundred pounds and be an obnoxious shade of red.
Setting the tattered copy of The Occult by Colin Wilson down on the small table at his side, Abe stretched in the low backed chair, his long arms reaching behind him, webbed fingers grasping the still air. He felt a groan bubble up in his throat but he didn't want to let it free. It was so quiet and in his life and work it was a blessing. As he relaxed back, slumping in the seat, he glanced at the wall clock, realizing it was two twenty-eight in the morning.
The team, comprised of him, Hellboy and Kate, had returned two days earlier from Chile. A crazed, ancient demon had managed to escape the warded confines of a hidden temple in the rainforest, ravaging nearby towns and stealing all of their mangoes. Yes, that's right: mangoes. The old, depraved thing wasn't doing any harm other than hijacking the fruit and scaring the living hell out of superstitious locals. Their arrival quite possibly just made it worse. They had begun laying the fruits out for the demon to appease it when they showed up. They started laying out red peppers and fish that night. A helpless chuckle escaped him as he though of their faces, staring up at Hellboy in frank awe. No matter what the nationality was, people reacted in one of two ways: Duuuhhhh….wow. Or in hysterics accompanied by frantic prayers to various gods.
Standing up languidly, Abe went over to a low tank tucked next to his one paned window. He supposed it was like a bed; low, wide and essential for good sleep. No lights were in this one so when he flicked off the desk lamp, darkness enveloped the world. He felt his pupils dilate to adjust to the inky black, the second layer of lids blinking blearily. Slowly he made his way to the tank guided by the faint light that escaped the cracked curtains. Luckily he bumped into only a chair on the way. As soon as his skin touched the warm water, his mind slid into a sort of tired limbo.
Making barely a sound in the water, he laid down, submerging his entire frame. It almost felt like being remade, he mused as his body soaked in as much moisture as possible in the next eight hours of sleep. All the weight of the world, all its prejudice, hatred and ignorance disappeared, sloughing off like mud from him mentally and physically.
Finally he sighed, watching the bubbles rise from his lips into the darkness that hovered about him. The bubbles glinted gold before they burst like fireworks at the surface. How long will he naturally live, he wondered drowsily, well, as naturally as possible considering his origins. Would his own life end in a golden burst, brilliant and lovely? It would be a hero's death. No one who knew him would deny that he deserved it but somehow he doubted he'd be rewarded as such.
In mild irritation, his frail-seeming gills flared and his hand clenched underwater. An unreasonable spout of indignant rage half-shocked him from slumber, frustrating him further. The more he worked under the B.P.R.D., the harder it became to restrain the resentment and anger he felt boiling under his cool façade. It wasn't enough that he was alone and lonely but they used him like an utter tool or trained freak. It upset him more to think about it but he knew that, that is what it all summed up to. He was a freak and they were the only ones who'd put up with the fact.
It wasn't fair of course but things very rarely were for anyone. But even that statement didn't ring true to Abe. The more he considered his fellow freaks, the more unbalanced it seemed. Hellboy was fast becoming a national/international hero, plastered on Time Magazine, taking interviews on CNB and taking tours with every military on the planet. Liz was a walking horror story that everyone knew and was loved for it. She was revered by pyros, that one. She was human to top it off so she could move through life much more easily for others to accept her.
But Abe? Maybe three people outside of the B.P.R.D. knew of him personally. Oh, he wasn't asking for fame or fortune but he wanted recognition and appreciation like them. Like Liz, like a hu-
Abruptly, Abe jerked himself fully awake, disrupting the peaceful water around him into a tiny tempest of upset splashes. Not caring how wet the wood flooring got, he scrambled out of the tank a bit clumsily in his growing frustration. He heard the sound of the webbing on the floor and gritted his teeth painfully. The thought had almost formulated, damn everything to hell, but it did.
Feeling a bit suffocated, he yanked the light on and paced from the chair to the door before going back to his tank. Sleep was impossible now that he had begun thinking and now that his blood surged in hateful anger. It wasn't like him to feel such a fury but he couldn't stop it. He didn't know what to do with himself or where to go. He couldn't just take off like the others, run away for the night and get a slap on the wrist. Abe stopped pacing abruptly (he did most things sharply or abruptly nowadays) and frowned.
Why couldn't he? Didn't he deserve a chance to see the world unsupervised without masks? As long as he could remember there was someone watching or security cameras filming, making sure he didn't get away or do something stupid. Hah! Of all the freaks in the B.P.R.D. they sheltered and followed him the most since Liz and Hellboy went worldwide and he was the least violent. Sure, there was that incident with the sharks who possessed dead slaves souls from the whole African slave trade thing. That hurt more than a little. But the other man survived that too, didn't he?
Perhaps it was out of mere rebellion or a blatant strike against the company that both protected him and kept him captive, but he knew without a doubt that he could not stay another day. He'd felt this anger for a long time but it had never helped him think of a plan before now. It might not be forever that he'd be gone but then again it could be. Only ten percent of the oceans were explored, right? Plenty of space to hide there in the worst case scenario.
Within half an hour, Abe had all his essential gear such as his water inhaler and concealing duster and hat on and ready to go. It was four-thirty a.m., the sun will come up in an hour or so and no one would even know he was gone.