Title: Weird Texas

Author: GreatBigFreak

Rating: Pending... There will be foul language and rampant weirdness as seems to be the general rule with most of my fics.

Disclaimer: Not mine... I just like 'em, and my strange brain mashed 'em together. I make very little money, and certainly not any from writing fan fiction. Don't sue, as it would be as waste of your time... Frivolous litigation is so silly when you could be writing frivolous fan fiction instead!

Summary: A/U. Set back during Taker and Kane's reunion, when Taker refused to fight Kane.

Notes: Follows the back story of Taker and Kane but without any connection to the WWF/E, and set more in the Hellboy 'verse. Set before Professor Bruttenholm's death, so it means the rest of the story is set in the past... Ages of Taker and Kane have been 'moved' in continuity to make them a little younger... Why? Because it made the math in my head easier. Certain 'facts' borrowed from Journey into Darkness, the 'biography' of Kane... And while it had a few plot holes, hazy points, and spelling errors, was an okay read.

Chapter 1

This always happened to him... Without fail, something small and seemingly easy to handle would turn into something else entirely. While that fact in of itself didn't bother him, the fact that it seemed to be inevitable sometimes did. Because things in his universe pretty much always ended up weird. When he wanted to just sit down, and drink a beer (which is what he usually wanted to do, if only because he so rarely got to), something else weird would happen, and he'd have to go and deal with it.

Like this night for example. As was also usual for him, he'd gone AWOL at the first opportunity. This night found him in Texas. He'd spend plenty of time in New Mexico years ago, but very little in the Lone Star State, and he'd just come off of working four days straight with no sleep, so he felt he deserved a little time to himself.

He'd ended up with a pilfered six pack of tallboy cans from an outdoor party where the parents were most definitely away, and he was now wandering around an older section of a cemetery. It wasn't very old per say, but it hadn't been filled recently enough to call it new.

The only reason why he'd come here is because it was a Sunday night, and he knew it would be totally deserted in the graveyard, and he was looking for some peace and quiet. There were also several mature trees to duck behind should the need arise. But as was typical for him, something else strange was going to happen in his life. The first inkling he got of it was the scent of something burning, specifically candles burning. He'd always had a keen sense of smell, and could tell from some distance off whether it was wood, wick and wax, or even flesh burning. The scent of candles burning was not something he expected in a quiet cemetery on a Sunday night by any means. Folks just didn't leave fires burning unattended in places like Texas.

Then his eyes started scanning around for the source of the scent, by trying to find the soft light that would go with it. He continued his walk further among the graves. It wasn't long before his ears started to confirm the worry that his nose had started. He heard a single voice chanting or invoking something in an antique tongue, and it was from that voice he found the right spot to look.

Well away from the sodium lights and down a gently sloping hill was the figure of a large man hunched between two graves. He was surrounded by a protective 'circle' laid out on the grass in a thick line of salt. Whatever it was that that man was trying to accomplish, it was just himself that he was putting at risk, so Hellboy, investigator for the Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense, took his time approaching. He walked slowly and quietly just outside of the man's peripheral vision.

As his face became clear in the dim light of the candles set up around him, Hellboy saw his expression, and had to admit it surprised him. His face didn't show the usual malevolence of someone trying to complete a ritual in the middle of the night in a graveyard. He looked... humble, but like he was groveling. Hellboy had seen a lot of people in his fifty odd years on the planet, and could tell by looking at him that this man's humble, prone position was not his usual state of mind or posture. Normally, this man of large stature would be full of self-confidence, if not outright pride. He was broad shouldered, and would have stood well over six and a half feet talk if he were vertical. However, he was not thin as many very tall people were, and looked as though he kept his body in peak condition. He could have been a football player... Or anything really, except a jockey.

The ritual itself looked vaguely familiar to Hellboy. It was most certainly a 'crossing over' type, but where the man was trying to get to was unclear. There were no blatant signs of the demonic that would show he was trying to gain access to hell, and while Hellboy couldn't ever imagine wanting to go there, he was continually amazed by those that seemed to want to unleash it on Earth. There were also no indications the man wanted communication with heaven either. If Hellboy had only been keen to know who was burning candles at this late hour in a Texas cemetery, now he was intrigued. He kept on quietly moving closer to the man, not wanting to scare him off. Mercifully, he was so wrapped up in his ritual that he failed to notice Hellboy's approach.

"Hey" Hellboy called softly when he stood directly behind him. From the man's shirtless torso, Hellboy could now see the tattoos that blazed up his arms, that he'd been severely beaten, and recently at that. "Hey" Hellboy hailed again. "Your circle's all wrong if you're trying to open up a gateway to hell." He thought that challenging him in this way would be a good way to distract him away from his ritual, while not having to hit him. Besides, crossing an unfamiliar circle, no matter how simplistic was not a good idea. Actually it was the simplicity of what he was looking at, from which Hellboy could tell the man meant business and knew well what he was doing. There was nothing around him that wasn't necessary, and if he knew that, then he probably knew a whole lot more as well.

The man didn't acknowledge him and kept on chanting. Hellboy sighed and knew he was going to have to take the risk. He stooped over, and reached out with his relatively normal sized left hand and took a firm hold of the man's ankle. He wore no shoes either. Before the man could react, Hellboy hauled his sizeable bulk out of the circle and could hear as the breath was knocked out of him as he dragged him a few feet away...

Hellboy had been ready for all kinds of crazy bullshit to be unleashed when he broke the circle, but what he didn't expect was the man twisting himself free on a knee-jerk reflex, and then come up swinging. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" The man bellowed as he tagged Hellboy's jaw with an uppercut.

The blow didn't affect Hellboy much, other then sting. But the fact that he could accomplish that made Hellboy quickly understand how physically strong the guy was. He stood in front of Hellboy, puffed up, hands balled into fists, and obviously enraged that he'd been disturbed. Hellboy shook his head and gathered his senses. "Hey, I could ask you the same question there, pal." He retorted. "Some guy trying a crossing attempt, you have to know someone like me is going to be interested." Hellboy said. That was when the man and really looked at who had pulled him away from what he was doing. Unlike so many others, this man had no fear in his eyes, and Hellboy had to wonder what gave him that kind of self assurance when facing down what for all intents and purposes, appeared to be a demon.

"So for once the rumours were correct." The man mused while he looked Hellboy up and down.

"On some things... You want a beer? I'll share if you tell me what you're up to and just why you're opening a portal to... Where are you trying to get to anyways?" Hellboy asked.

"I really don't have time for this." The tattooed man said coolly. "I'm not out looking for any kind of trouble. I just have to talk to some people, and I will be back directly." He then picked up the bag of salt, and set about renewing the boundaries of the circle.

"And you have to talk to these people so bad that you'd attempt a crossing solo? What if you never get back?" Hellboy asked.

"Yes I do have to speak to them... And if I never came back... Well then maybe I'll finally get some peace. Now, if you'll excuse me." The man turned away from him and continued to pour the salt. Hellboy sighed and then drew his gun out of its holster at his side. He cocked it and pointed it at the man's head.

"I'm afraid I can't do that. You're going to tell me, or I'm going to have to stop you one way or another." The man paused and turned back to Hellboy.

"Look, I told you, for once in my life, I'm not looking for any trouble... Hell, I'm not even out for my own direct gain here, and I pretty much always am. I just need to talk to a couple of people who don't happen to be a part of this world anymore." He said. Hellboy quickly scanned the carved writing on the simple, matching stones in front of them, and drew a quick conclusion.

"Looks like these two died on the same day when you would be about, fourteen or fifteen, maybe? What kind of fucked up family reunion is this?" He asked.

"The kind that involves me doing grievous physical harm to the only other member of my immediate family who can count himself among the living. Now, can you let me get back to the task of perhaps begging their forgiveness and then earning my way into hell?" He asked, but his tone indicated that there would be no arguing with him over what he was attempting to do. Still, Hellboy kept his sometimes shoddy aim on the man, and knew to try and keep him talking.

"Why is it so bad that it would come to this? What's your situation?" Hellboy asked.

"I just told you told you that I don't have the fucking time to talk to you!" The man's angry bellow was truly an unpleasant thing, and Hellboy was fairly certain that it had made many a man tremble in his boots.

"Need I remind you that I'm the one holding the gun?" Hellboy asked, and gave a slight nod to the firearm he held.

The tattooed man standing in the salt circle furrowed his brow in annoyance, and then merely waved his hand. The motion caused some unseen force to rip the gun from Hellboy's hand and send it flying off into the murk well beyond his ability to see. Hellboy let out a short cry of pain and surprise at the gun being wrenched from his hand, but he didn't pull back from the man.

"Now your gun is as useful to you, as my continuing to stand here talking to you is to me. Would you please just fuck off and let me do this thing?"

Hellboy chose a strategic cessation of hostilities for the moment. It was clear that the man wasn't out to hurt him. If he could take the gun away from him without touching it so easily, then he could have just as easily brought it to his own hand. Once more, the man turned his back on him.

Hellboy took a moment to examine the man's wounds again. He was honestly surprised that a human could continue to function with that degree of injury. Not only was he bruised, but cut, abraded and burned. It also appeared as if they were all in different stages of healing. Some were old, some still bleeding slowly and glistening in the low candle light. He also observed that save for some redness at the man's knuckles from where he'd hit him earlier, he had no injuries from what would be considered him putting up an offense. That meant that while someone had been hitting him, he hadn't been hitting back, despite obviously knowing quite well how to do it.

The man started to chant again and resumed his crouching position on the ground. Hellboy had to admire the guy's balls if anything... Perhaps he was some kind of modern day warrior like Hellboy himself.

"Just so you know I'll be waiting here until you get back." Hellboy said. The man then gave him the bird as he continued to chant and the ground started to shake.

The next thing Hellboy knew a vast hole was tearing itself open in the ground, and grey cloud spewed out of it. It didn't smell of brimstone like an opening to hell did though, so Hellboy had to assume that he'd been telling the truth on that... With only a moment of hesitation, the man jumped down into the chasm; and it the opening seemed to be satisfied with that and closed itself up instantaneously.

Within seconds, the world was back to as normal as it was going to get for Hellboy. He then sat down on the grass, opened on of the beers, which had been sitting in the deep pocket of his trench coat. He took a sip, set the beer down, and then pulled a cigar from his coat, and the communication device from his belt. He placed the cigar in his mouth, and then turned the unit back on. After that he fished for his lighter in his pocket where the cigars were. "One of these days, they'll get smart and just make one I can't turn off." He mused. His words muffled by the cigar between his lips. As he lit the cigar, the com unit's speaker crackled to life.

"Liz to Red, would you please call the office and tell us where you got to?" Liz's voice said. Hellboy grinned, puffed on the cigar a few times, and then hit the button that turned the device into a two way radio.

"Hello Liz" He said warmly. "I need you to get some information, including obituaries, on a couple of people, Randall Callaway, and Susanna Kane-Callaway, who lived in Texas and died about fifteen years ago."

... To be continued