Hellboy:
Stull
Stull, Kansas, 1991. The local legend in Stull was that the cemetery there was haunted. It was said that the ruins of the cemetery's old church was itself a gateway to hell. It was a known spot to the BPRD, though not closely monitored. There had been several disappearances in Stull that year, and even the FBI had a hard time figuring out what had happened. Then, the BPRD got involved and Hellboy was called in.
Hellboy sat in the back of the Lincoln Town car, smoking a cigar and reading through the files and reports.
"Hey, Liz," he said, "Check this out."
"What is it?" She asked.
"Even the Pope won't allow his plane to fly over Kansas. Says it's unholy land."
"Looks decent enough to me," Liz said with a sigh as she looked out her window at the rural Kansas countryside. Another field assignment. It wasn't that she didn't like them, they were interesting for sure, but they really tired you out. So, she lit another cigarette. "So, what are we supposed to do here?"
"You know 'check it out, make it safe type of thing.' Did the Bureau say anything about where we're supposed to stay?"
"'Beau's Motel'."
"Sounds cozy. HBO?"
"No."
"Pool?"
"No."
"Great," Hellboy said, rolling his eyes.
"We're here to work, not screw around," Liz said, flicking an ash into the ashtray.
"Yeah, I know, but there has to be something to make work easier."
"This is a routine assignment that should be a cakewalk; work doesn't get any easier. We'll be in and out, a week max."
"You don't know that," Hellboy said, shaking his cigar at her, "I've been on a lot more field trips than you have, and what seems like a picnic usually turns out to be a lot harder. I thought you'd have learned that by now."
A grin spread across Hellboy's red leathery face. Even Liz let out a toothy smile--an uncommon occurrence with her.
"Since you're driving me around, Elizabeth, get me a burger at the next place you see. Pronto." And Hellboy leaned back and fell asleep.
Stull
Stull, Kansas, 1991. The local legend in Stull was that the cemetery there was haunted. It was said that the ruins of the cemetery's old church was itself a gateway to hell. It was a known spot to the BPRD, though not closely monitored. There had been several disappearances in Stull that year, and even the FBI had a hard time figuring out what had happened. Then, the BPRD got involved and Hellboy was called in.
Hellboy sat in the back of the Lincoln Town car, smoking a cigar and reading through the files and reports.
"Hey, Liz," he said, "Check this out."
"What is it?" She asked.
"Even the Pope won't allow his plane to fly over Kansas. Says it's unholy land."
"Looks decent enough to me," Liz said with a sigh as she looked out her window at the rural Kansas countryside. Another field assignment. It wasn't that she didn't like them, they were interesting for sure, but they really tired you out. So, she lit another cigarette. "So, what are we supposed to do here?"
"You know 'check it out, make it safe type of thing.' Did the Bureau say anything about where we're supposed to stay?"
"'Beau's Motel'."
"Sounds cozy. HBO?"
"No."
"Pool?"
"No."
"Great," Hellboy said, rolling his eyes.
"We're here to work, not screw around," Liz said, flicking an ash into the ashtray.
"Yeah, I know, but there has to be something to make work easier."
"This is a routine assignment that should be a cakewalk; work doesn't get any easier. We'll be in and out, a week max."
"You don't know that," Hellboy said, shaking his cigar at her, "I've been on a lot more field trips than you have, and what seems like a picnic usually turns out to be a lot harder. I thought you'd have learned that by now."
A grin spread across Hellboy's red leathery face. Even Liz let out a toothy smile--an uncommon occurrence with her.
"Since you're driving me around, Elizabeth, get me a burger at the next place you see. Pronto." And Hellboy leaned back and fell asleep.