Something within the gathered in the library shifts. The figure, unseen in the shadows, eyes the scene in front of him. A seemingly mythological chimera made of fish and man catches the shrouded figure. Who—or what—is that creature? He wonders silently. He is as much of a freak as I am! Seemingly of their own accord, the majority of the gathered darkness separates from the corner and seems to glide silently towards the glass aquarium.

Abe observes this and takes it all in stride. He grins a "fishy" sort of smile, as he already knows it is the newest resident of the Bureau, the living skeleton they had found in Paris on Halloween night. He seems to be doing much better than before, the fish-man observes. Inside the shadows, the figure reaches out and touches the glass.

"I know you're there, Erik," Abraham Sapien admits. Shocked, Erik dispels the gathered shadows with a simple, single thought. Abe can see clearly the horrid face in front of him that is twisted even further in shock. He cannot see the figure's eyes, and wonders why that is.

"How—how did you know of me, or even Erik's name," the figure questions. He is shirtless, and skinny as hell. His ribs and hips protrude, and his skin is sunken, taught over his bones, and an ugly, bilious yellow. He looks as if he has never eaten a morsel in his life. However, this is not true. He has eaten—but he has never gained much weight, if any in fat or any normal area of bodily gain. And why doesn't he eat very often? It should be fairly obvious, as he lacks a regular nose (it is but a gaping cavity on his face), that he cannot smell the food, and seeing as smell compromises a good portion of taste, food would be quite bland. For poor Erik, food was not a pleasure, but instead, a simple and necessary chore that was done simply to survive.

"Who are you? How can you know Erik? Why is Erik here?" He repeats, as his eyes flash in what could be deemed anger or even madness. He already knows he is mad, and has known since he lost his beloved Christine. When he lost her truly by letting her go, his world and mind shattered. He should have known, he would remind himself as he was dying, that no angel could ever love an aging, monstrous demon.

Abe ponders a moment on how exactly how to explain the fact that it is written clearly in his mind. He is a bit of a telepath and that he knows that the minds of others are supposed to be off limits, but he could not help himself.

"I read your mind, Erik. It was easy, but I must admit I am ashamed of my actions. I would not have done so if you had not raised my curiosity so. Your mind is a wonderful thing, Erik. It is absolutely brilliant," intones Abe as he swims up to the glass. Erik is flabbergasted.

"You read Erik's mind? I am annoyed, but awed. Erik's not the only freak here, is he?"

"No."

Just then a noise, as of hooves hitting stone reaches the former Ghost's sensitive ears, frightening him. Immediately the shadows return as he retreats once again to a corner, preparing to move away from the room through the by some odd and unknown instinct.

"Aw, crap," grinds out a gravelly voice that shocks the shadowed man into absolute stillness. "What's with all the damn shadows all of a sudden?"

A big, red demon with yellow eyes, a tail with a mind of its own, filed down horns, and a massive under bite, steps into the shadowed library. He is massive, standing at least seven feet tall, and well muscled. The shadowed figure's eyes widen as he thinks, "Well there is someone just about as ugly as I am! Or perhaps not, seeing as he has muscles and a nose…" As his eyes widen, two little yellow stars appear in the corner where the former Opera Ghost is frozen in shock. Scared by the appearance of the large red demon, the creature steps back through the shadows and once again disappears, but this time completely physically also. He is simply not in the room anymore.

"What the hell was that?" The big red "monkey" questions Abe Sapien. He just stares at the spot where the yellow eyes had been as the shadows dissipate from the recently vacated corner, while he scratches his head.

"That, Hellboy," he responds coolly, "That was the thing we brought back from Paris. He appears to be human, or at least mostly human. Although I haven't a clue as to why he is still alive even. He should be long dead by now, as most tales say. But his mind is extraordinary, like nothing I've yet encountered. A veritable genius, yet at the same time, it is warped and twisted, almost completely insane. And yet, he seems to be a complete gentleman, if nothing else. And I have never seen anyone that was ever able to do just what he has done, which is, to slip away through the shadows."

"So the thing's escaped?" Hellboy grunts. "I suppose I'll have to go and hunt it down—again."

"No, Red, you do not need to do that. He is still in this complex, just no in this room. I would advise you to not go after him. The last thing I read of him in his mind screamed of fear, and it seems to be something he has very rarely experienced himself before—he usually caused it in others."

"Just be careful, Hellboy. He's frightened, alone and in an unfamiliar place. I wouldn't do anything too rash before gaining his trust and knowing the full extant of his abilities. I should very much like to know what his origins or parentage are. I do wonder where he slipped off to, though."

Liz Sherman's Suite, BPRD complex

A scream assaults his ears as he steps from between the greater shadows and into the new room. He cringes as the shriek reverberates inside his head. His desiccated lips twist in agony, exposing distinctly inhuman-looking teeth. A cry escapes his very own being. He is all the more frightened by the fact that he has no idea of how he has arrived in this room when he was just a minute ago stepping further backwards into the shadows in that other room that was similar to a library room. He tries to go backwards again and runs into the walls as a bright, powerful light blinds his darkness-adjusted eyes. He desperately grasps for shadows to surround himself with subconsciously, but none come to him. He breaks down and folds in upon himself, covering his mangled features with his skeletal hands and arms, attempting to hide from the dark red haired young woman. She reminds him of his late mother and the abuses she put him through before he left home on an epic adventure that would bring him to seek that which he longed for—the warmth of being loved in return for his love—and the very edge, to the brink of madness—and perhaps over it—and his apparent death.

Her heart is pounding rapidly as she eyes the strange man's sudden appearance in her Bureau-appointed and provided apartment. There was a sudden, darkening of the shadows along the wall and then, two gleaming yellow cat's eyes shown from the darkness suddenly. This frightened her immensely, and in an instinctive reaction, she turned on a gooseneck lamp and shined it towards the eyes. And the light revealed the horrendously ugly figure.