Palais Garnier Opéra Paris, 1888
He was ready to die. He gripped his opera tightly to his chest as he lay within the silken confines of his coffin. He felt tired, so he decided to give in to sleep. He felt himself slipping away as his heart slowed ever further and his breathing became labored. Oh well, he thinks inside his head, at least my death will be peaceful… Quietly, as if to not dare even break the stillness of his secret home, the figure's last breath fled from his lips.
Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense headquarters, October 31, 120 years later
The big, red, and tailed demon called Hellboy was exceptionally cranky today. Oh sure, today started off innocently enough, but just as soon as breakfast was finished, the bad luck had started and hasn't stopped yet. First, it was the damn Fair Folk becoming upset by some drunken teenagers once again. Of course, no one else could handle it—no, only him! Then there was the strange oddity of all the local stone gargoyles suddenly coming alive in New York City—turns out that a kid was messing with black magic he couldn't handle. 'Course they got him to put them back in place, because that is what he did best—beating up the big, bad beasties. And now this…
"What do you mean something big is going down in Paris, France? And in an Opera house, nonetheless?" Hellboy demands. Liz lights a cigarette with a single finger and takes a drag, letting it out slowly. She puts a hand reassuringly on Hellboy's tensed left fist. He slowly relaxes.
"So what is happening, Manning? Something you need all of us for?" Liz "Sparky" Sherman queries.
"It's a request from the administrators of the National Academy of Music. Seems something paranormal is waking up in the Palais Garnier Opéra de Paris. Given its reputed history, it was brought to our attention and this team specifically. You leave in five minutes."
He is slowly waking up, feeling more refreshed than ever before. He knows it will be a while before he is completely awake, though. So he dreams. He dreams of the raging love he has for his beloved blonde, blue-eyed, and Swedish ingénue. Had she read his announcement? Had she fulfilled her promise? Where was he? Was he dead? Is he but a spirit?
He opens his eyes. He is still in his coffin. He is awake, but very weak still. How long did I sleep? The dusty, ugly man wonders in his head.
"So where's this energy supposed to be, Abe?" Hellboy asks Abe Sapien, the blue-skinned fish-man.
He blinks and concentrates. "It's coming from beneath us. Deep beneath us."
Liz speaks up: "Isn't there supposed to be a lake down there?"
"Hmm?"
"Well, supposedly, at its lowest level," quips Abe. "Hmm… Maybe I'll get to go swimming again."
"The Fifth Cellar! Where the siren resided!" Exclaims Liz.
To which Hellboy goes, "What? I thought we already dealt with that, Abe."
"Erm, yes…"
"I've read the book set within these walls on our flight over. It can't be a coincidence!"
"We need to go to fifth cellar quickly," announces Abe Sapien.
He takes a deep breath of stale air as he can feel immense power lying at his very fingertips. He flexes his stiff fingers and toes, which protest this action mightily.
He can only lie there, in his ebony coffin as his doorbell-come-alarm started to ring out. Who could be visiting me without worry of the siren? The deathly pale figure thought to himself.
"Now what," Hellboy asks gruffly.
"Get in the boat," both Liz and Abe command, as Liz herself gets in the dinghy and Abe enters the dingy, cold water.
Abe speaks again: "The energy is coming from the other side of the lake. Whatever it is, we're most likely going to need you to get at it, I'm afraid."
He knows someone is coming, but whom? He can feel his leg and arm muscles twitch, but still refuse to move. He has so much power, yet at this moment in time he is absolutely powerless and helpless once again, much like a newborn baby.
Odd as it is, there is a set of stairs and a door that is almost invisible. Abe quickly confirms that this is where the energy is emanating from—inside and behind the door.
"I think this is my cue," grunts Hellboy. He motions the others back, balls his stone right hand into a fist, and starts hammering into the reinforced door. Even the iron and wood of the door is no match for the red demon and soon he has the door that was built with the occupant's locks that only he could work open.
Inside everything is dusty—very dusty. It is as if nothing has been touched for centuries. Hellboy takes out the Good Samaritan and gestures the other two agents, along with some of the grunts who had came a little later in an inflatable raft, to spread out and search the mysterious, dark house.
It isn't long before someone finds him. He wanted to lash out and kill the intruder, but alas, he knows and feels that he is too weak to even stand and is ashamed at the thought. But he is getting stronger—he knows it in his blackened heart.
"We got a body here!" A grunt named Levhy calls out. Abe and Liz are the first to arrive, and they see that the grunt looks sick.
"Are you sure it's dead?" Liz queries. The grunt nods. He asks how anything that looks so dead could ever be alive.
Hellboy hears this as he enters the room. He replies, "You'd be surprised."
"You're right, Red. He is alive, but barely. He is the source of the energy. We must bring him back to HQ," quotes Abe. "Can you lift him Hellboy?"
He grunts a "yeah, sure", as he lifts the horridly ugly man up and over his shoulder. He realizes that the guy is extremely and awfully light.
"Jeez, doesn't this guy ever eat?"
· Liz answers, "I don't think so. What would he eat down here?"