Rainy Days – A Hellboy fanfic
And the ball just keeps on rolling.
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Sorry for the long delay, I have been very uninspired lately. I started typing this chapter right after I finished the last one, but I just couldn't get around to finishing it for just about three or so weeks...ngh. I have been trying to focus on it, but midterms came up, then events, then Halloween (nobody here works on Halloween), essays, homework, mandatory class participation things...and now I am sitting in bed with a minor head cold as I finish the chapter and submit it...blegh.
On a lighter note, I was adorable and scary as hell on Halloween, I did next to nothing that Saturday, and I got a dozen poppy seed muffins in the mail! Daddy is so nice! I love care packages...
Other than that, the past week has been stress, stress, stress: deciding on classes for the spring semester, tests, preparing for research papers, making craft projects as belated birthday gifts for friends, all sorts of shit. Please enjoy the chapter!
Disclaimer: I do not own anything Hellboy related, as far as copyrights go, but I do own Demina, the plot, and the story are mine.
Warning: Blood, violence, fighting and swearing. :D (I have a lot of cursing in this story, don't I?)
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"Is everything ready?" One red imp, dressed in a blue-black cape asked another.
"Yes. Let the ritual begin." The sixth of the four imps, and the largest, said as he grabbed a gnarled and rusted old knife from atop a table. Hellboy and Demina watched warily from deep inside one of the sewer tunnels that led to the convergence where six imps total were meeting. Demina held her pistol and gripped the handle of it tightly as she waited for her companion's signal. Hellboy, meanwhile, was watching the imps with a calm eye as his miniature cannon of a gun rested heavily in his left hand. The two watched anxiously as the imp with the knife stepped up a small staircase spiraling around a ten-foot-tall monolith with a sturdy platform at the very top. The five other imps watched from five different points around the monolith, the one with the cape now cradling the puppy in his spindly limbs.
"Oh mighty Blethdgal! Lord of imp and darkest kind! Hear our prayers and taste our blood sacrifice!" The large imp then made a long slice along the inside of his left arm, leaving a gash that oozed blue-colored blood. Demina winced when she saw him make the motion and Hellboy silently questioned who this Blethdgal was. The four imps Hellboy and Demina followed then fell to their knees, their hands on their heads and sharp, dagger-like nails digging into their scalps.
"Yo! Ass!" Demina whispered to Hellboy, causing him to turn around and face her, "Why the bloody 'ell are we still standing 'ere?"
"Because," Hellboy hissed, "we need to find a decent opening to stop them." Demina just glared at him and quietly moved forward to see the gruesome ritual. The imps were now speaking a guttural, indecipherable tongue as their scalps bled blue and blue-green colors. The imp in the black cape carried the dog above his bowed head as he ascended the stairs to join the largest imp on the monolith. When this happened, Hellboy gave the signal and both the BPRD agents hurried forward, Hellboy firing a shot that destroyed three steps of the staircase ahead of the imp in the black cloak and Demina firing off a shot into the skull of an imp; it died instantly.
"No! What are you doing?!" The imp on the top of the monolith demanded, waving his bloodied knife like a madman.
"We didn't get an invitation to your little party. D over there is a little pissed." Hellboy answered, gesturing towards Demina as she fired off two more shots, one into each skull of two of the worshippers.
"Fools! Do not think the people of Blethdgal have not prepared for battle!" The biggest imp said as he waved the knife in a certain gesture. An instant later, twenty other imps showed up, all bearing some kind of armor, sharp, nasty-looking blades and a set of sharpened claws and teeth. Hellboy immediately took a head count and Demina growled angrily before firing a shot into the last of the worshippers and sheathing her gun into its holster.
"I fin'ly get ta 'ave some fun..." Demina said with a grin. She clenched her fists tight and a surge of electricity went into her hands, coming out as long, arching branches of white lightning. Hellboy took his chance to reach up and grab the imp in the black cloak from the staircase; a stature of seven feet and a higher reach made it almost too easy. He carefully plucked the puppy from the imps grasp and tucked it into one of his inner coat pockets before making short work of the caped imp.
"Now to deal with the ringleader." Hellboy said as he easily stepped onto the fourth step and lifted himself high enough to grab at whom he assumed to be the leader at the top of the monolith. He reached out his right hand and grabbed the imp by its twig-like waist before setting his bulk back down on the more solid floor of the tunnel.
"Let go, you fiend!" The imp demanded as he made slashes at Hellboy's hand; the most he did was shave off chips of the boulder-like appendage.
"'Ellboy! Three imps a' six o' clock!" Demina shouted as she shot off bolts of lightning at the armored imps, their metal garments making excellent conductors for Demina's electricity. Hellboy whirled to his right, spinning fast and hard enough to slam his massive right hand, and the imp in its clutches, into the three armored imps; they fell hard to the ground, one landing on its sword. As Demina fired bolt after bolt at the imps, she noticed one imp was not quite dead: the one in the black cape was staggering, his partially caved head bleeding profusely, and he wielded what looked to be an old revolver. It aimed and fired its shot in Hellboy's direction; the bullet missed and accidentally landed in the leg of one of the armored imps. Demina shocked him and he crumbled to the floor with a violent shudder, now dead amongst his comrades.
"Nice shot." Hellboy said before pulling out his giant pistol and firing into a mass of the imps which exploded with an array of flailing limbs and pieces of bodies. He also swung his fist like a hammer, the lead imp still trapped in the demon's grip, into the imps that dared approach him for a close attack. The numbers waned as more of the imps fell either to a massive bullet, a shot of white lightning, or a giant red fist. When only six were left, the imps regrouped and started to quickly strategize some sort of plan.
"Let me go, you heathen! You have ruined the ritual! Now lord Blethdgal will be after your blood!" the leader cried out as he tiredly continued fighting Hellboy's fist.
"I think I can handle him." Hellboy answered, not even looking at the imp king. He set his gun in its holster and flexed his left fist; he was now out of bullets, couldn't reload with only one hand, and couldn't hold the imp leader alive in his left fist without being scratched up. Hellboy had a tough hide, he knew, but he never did like it when monsters decided to chew and claw him to bits.
"Get them you fools!" The leader shouted as more and more imps poured in from the various tunnels and pipe ways. Hellboy and Demina were soon swarmed by imps of all sizes, a dark red coat of scraggly limbs, claws, and shrieks covered Hellboy as Demina resorted to her knives and electricity. The large demon hissed as twenty or so clawed hands and feet dug through his trench coat into his skin. As he swung his right fist and twisted each and every which way, he plucked and crushed several of the imps, the leader included. He heard Demina shout and the loud clap of thunder a moment after.
"Gah! Muthuh fuckuh, that 'urts!" Demina cursed as she let out bolt after bolt of lightning at the imps. One of the armored imps with a blade had managed to make a long, neat slice along Demina's upper arm; it was dead before it could do any more. The gash bled heavily before Demina put her right hand to it and cauterized the wound with her electricity. She hissed in pain and more imps pounced, determined to get revenge for their fallen leader; she sent out a heavy wave of electricity and either paralyzed or killed the imps in midair and in the sludge. Hellboy batted away and flung several imps into the concrete walls of the sewer tunnel convergence as a few of the deeper cuts bled slightly; nothing that wouldn't heal before bedtime.
"D! You got any flash grenades?" Hellboy asked as he swung his fist into a small cluster of imps. Demina quickly hopped back and ascended six steps up the monolith before checking her pouches; she grinned when she found them.
"Way ahead o' ya!" Demina said as she zapped several imps back and pulled the pins on the grenades before tossing them into the fray. "Covuh ya face!" Demina shouted before shutting her eyes tight and pulling her arms over her face' Hellboy did the same. A moment later, a loud ringing resounded in everyone's ears and the bright light had blinded just about all the imps, causing them to screech in pain; their eyes were extremely light-sensitive. Hellboy and Demina uncovered their eyes and resumed the battle, beating, slicing up, and shooting down imps at every turn. Demina and Hellboy were not without resistance, though, as the blinded resorted to what remained of their senses to attack the BPRD agents or each other by mistake. The massacre ended when the last imp standing took his own life with his knife blade.
"Well...tha' was a fine kettle o' fish." Demina sighed tiredly and braced her hands on her knees as she tried recovering her breath. Hellboy also tried recovering his breath and scanned the mounds of imp bodies around them; he was certain at least one or two had the sense to run away. He glanced at Demina as she stood and regarded what was visible of the slightly burned gash on her arm; he winced, it would hurt for several weeks.
"Well, that's that." Hellboy said as he rolled a body over with one of his hooves. It flopped over onto another corpse and lay there, its head beaten in by Hellboy's assault.
"Li'l brutal though innit?" Demina said as she moved her injured arm to work out the stings and study the damage; it'd sure as hell hurt in the morning. Then Demina studied the carnage and heaps of imp corpses around her; she grimaced and wrinkled her nose at the sight and turned to Hellboy. With a sneer she said, "Think you wen' a li'l too fah, dumbass?" Hellboy stared flatly at his teammate and his left eye twitched in slight irritation.
"Oh, shut up." Hellboy muttered before placing his right hand on Demina's shoulder and giving a good shove, knocking her flat into the sewer muck. He then started the trudge through the fluids back the way he and Demina had come in earlier, reporting what had happened to the attending BPRD agents on the surface.
"You muthuh-fucking, sonuva shit-faced, cock-sucking bitch!" Demina yelled before a cloak of blue-white electric charge covered her entire frame. Arcs of lightning spanned the open space and lashed out in Hellboy's direction.
"Oh crap..." Hellboy muttered before running down the tunnel to try and escape the anger-charged bolts of electricity writhing wildly behind him.
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"This is much bettuh than the retch'd sewers. I can' believe tha' bastard 'ellboy pushed me into that filth..." Demina muttered as she lay in the bathtub in her private bathroom. Her main room door was locked tight and so was her bathroom door. The tub was filled to the brim with lavender-scented bubbles, mainly because Demina's post-sewer-mission shower wasn't relaxing enough. She was already clean and rid of the muck, but to Demina, it felt good to be lazy after having to do something as tiring as a mission with a certain somebody she didn't care for. So relaxing was this bath that Demina started humming the latest French pop song she'd caught on to.
"Talking to yourself in there?" Hellboy said loudly. The two doors may have either been enough to shut out Hellboy's barrage on the main room door, but the voice that grinded Demina's gears rang loud and snapped her out of her relaxing reverie and causing her to abruptly shut off the song in her head.
"Fuck off!! Lea'me alone you git!" Demina shouted, louder than Hellboy so he would hear.
"Manning's orders: he wants those papers of yours asap! You also have to write up a report of the mission for Kate." Hellboy elaborated as Demina heard the wooden door groan in protest as the red man leaned against the wooden portal.
"To hell with 'em both! An' the same ta you! You push my fat ass into the sewuh's layuhs of liquid shit and you expect me to talk to you?! Lea'me in peace you big red fuckuh!!" Demina shouted angrily, so tempted to pitch her metal bat into the back of the red dome Hellboy called a skull. She heard the door groan in relief as Hellboy took his 300-pound-plus self off of the doorway.
"Fine. Annoying little bitch." Hellboy muttered, inaudible to Demina, but it made him feel better calling her that.
'Of all the places ta be transferred, why 'ere? I mean, sure, Lizzy's 'ere and that's wonduhful, but the wimpy walking sushi bah and the giant red git are the most annoying little...what to call them? "Beings"?' Demina thought as she sat deeper in the tub and blew frustrated bubbles from her now-submerged mouth and glared at a black housefly on the uniform white-cream tile of her bathroom. Her eyes twitched oh-so-slightly and a tiny lightning bolt struck the fly; it was dead before it could call for help and Demina smirked. Her smirk vanished a second later as she moved to make herself more comfortable in the lukewarm tub water; thoughts of her and Liz's earlier conversation returned to her mind. 'Pshh..."get to know him" she says, "that's how Hellboy makes a lot of his friends" she says. Bah.' Demina thought as she basked in the warm water and brought the French pop song "Mal Poli" back into her mind to calm herself down. (1)
Several songs later, Demina was effectively pickling herself in the bubbly and now cold water. She sighed as she rose and uncorked the base of the tub. She then started the shower and relished in the warm water washing away the soothing bubbles. Again her mind reverted to her and Liz's conversation; it was as if an annoying little niggle of her consciousness wanted her to actually get along with the poster boy of the BPRD. She frowned and shut off the shower before stepping out and quickly drying off her frame.
"If there's anything the slimy git du'nt need ta know, it's what 'appened to grampap." Demina muttered as she took another towel and vigorously rubbed her hair until it was only slightly moist. She then grabbed the comb on her bathroom counter and roughly sorted out her bicolored follicals so it looked decent enough.
A minute later, Demina was fully dressed in her only set of a matching bra and undies, a pair of black pajama pants, a black wife beater, and a pair of electric blue fuzzy socks to keep her feet warm. Demina sat in front of her computer and switched the machine on, absently gnawing on a plastic mechanical pencil as the monitor and processing systems flickered to life. Demina opened her web browser when it all was loaded up and tapped into her Youtube account to listen to her favorite songs as she typed up her report. She hummed along with an English version of "Dragostea Din Tea (Numa Numa)" as she clicked away on the writing program and quickly produced a report to turn in to Dr. Kate Corrigan the next chance she got. She left her playlist going as she started leafing through Manning's required papers to see what was and wasn't necessary.
After most of an hour, Demina had finished most of the papers, but got stuck on when she needed to fill in her social security number. It took next to ten minutes to find the paper where she had remembered what it was and then another twenty minutes to reorganize everything to find the paper she needed. Sighing in exasperation, she finally finished the papers and glanced at the clock: it was 9:34 pm.
"Too late ta turn in either report and I don' feel like going anywhere but the kitchen." As if on cue, her stomach let out a mighty growl and her throat suddenly felt quite parched. A late dinner was in order and Demina was never one to disagree with the possibility of food. Donning a red and black Daft Punk hoodie, Demina stepped out of her room and shuffled down the hall of the living quarters of the BPRD towards the kitchen. Liz's room was silent and abandoned, she was probably burning the vampire to death, and Abe's room was the same, not that Demina cared. She quickly zipped past Hellboy's room were very loud oldies were playing from a stereo or music playing system of some sort; Demina had no clue. When she found herself in the kitchen, the lights were off and through the darkness she could only make vague shapes of whatever was actually in the living quarter's kitchen.
"Easy enough to solve." Demina said as she lifted her hand and sent a branch of electricity to it. The bright electric light arced and danced over and around her fingers, creating a slight flicker of light in the room, just enough to see by. She casually hummed a tune and mentally berated herself for forgetting the lyrics of the song as she opened the refrigerator and extinguished the light she provided. After browsing the contents of the fridge (a half-eaten ham wrapped in cellophane, a plastic air-tight see-through food bin filled with what Demina saw as century eggs, and a slightly mold sandwich being a few) and found the can of root beer to be most appetizing; her stomach forgot its hunger when she saw the moldy sandwich in the back corner. Demina casually cracked the soda can open and let the refrigerator door close heavily, leaving the electric female in total dark.
Demina enjoyed the dark as she sat on the tiled countertop and sipped at the cold root beer. She jumped when the door suddenly opened and glared when she recognized the silhouette of her red-skinned nemesis. The door shut behind him and she heard the clip-clop of hooves on tile in the dark fog around her. Silently, she slipped off the counter and tip-toed over to where the exit was supposed to be. She had only barely ducked behind another counter when Hellboy opened the refrigerator door and sent a blinding glow into the kitchen.
"Aw crap. I told Liz she had to finish that sandwich yesterday." Hellboy muttered as he reached into fridge and grabbed the sandwich by its plate before setting it on the counter behind him and returning to peruse the contents of the kitchen commodity. Demina quietly moved, in a crouched position, around a table and silently moved towards the exit when the source of light suddenly went out and she was momentarily blinded from being exposed to light and then struck back into pitch black. She sat there frustrated and silently wishing the root beer in her hand didn't make so much noise as it fizzled quietly and as Hellboy hummed a tune to himself. The sudden baritone tune caught Demina's attention: it was Tom Waits' "Who Are you?" the only Tom Waits song, out of the twenty she'd heard, she knew by heart.
'Only good thing 'bout the git is 'is taste in music.' Demina mused as she heard Hellboy's hooves click against the tile and then abruptly stop; he even stopped humming. Demina vaguely remembered Hellboy saying he had very good eyesight, even in the darkest of places, right before they went down into the sewers earlier that day.
"You mind telling me why you're sitting on the kitchen floor in the dark?" Hellboy asked. Demina frowned and turned her head in Hellboy's general direction; she could barely make out his silhouette in the dark.
"Wha' I do is my business. Why I do it is even more my business." Demina said pointedly, but childishly. She took a sip of her root beer and turned back to staring in front of her.
"Okay..." Hellboy said slowly as he set his plate on the table and took a bite out of the ham sandwich he had made. Demina heard a chair groan in protest as Hellboy sat in it and quietly wondered how a sinple wooden chair could withstand Hellboy's massive poundage. After a moment of silence, Demina finally spoke up.
"Weren't you disgusted by the moldy sammich?" Demina asked before taking another sip of her quickly emptying can of root beer.
"Sammich? Oh yeah, Liz's ham and cheese from last week." Hellboy muttered, making Demina's eyes widen at how old the sandwich really was. "Nope. I deal with messier, older, grosser crap every time I go out on a mission, as you might've seen." Demina nodded and made a sound of understanding before the room was silent once more. Hellboy's sandwich quickly disappeared and he grabbed for a second which he'd placed on his plate while Demina pondered things. She swirled her hand in a circle, making the contents of the can swish and sizzle as the carbonation escaped, making the drink slightly flatter in taste. After Hellboy's fifth sandwich, the red man finally stood, much to the chair's relief, and went back to humming "Who Are You?" as he put his plate away. Demina sighed and stood before finishing off her drink and turning her hand into a light bulb to look for a trash bin. Upon spotting one, Demina threw the aluminum can in a graceful arc that landed squarely in the bin. "Nice shot." Hellboy said.
"Six years o' basketball 'll do that ta ya." Demina answered, turning towards the exit and opening the door wide and holding it open, letting enough light spill into the kitchen from the hallway long enough for Hellboy to find his way back to the door. As he walked by he glanced questioningly at Demina, causing her to turn away with a scowl. "Just because I'm being nice now dun' mean it'll 'appen again."
"I'll count my blessings." Hellboy said with a chuckle. He opened the door to his room and just before he closed it, Demina spoke loud enough so only he could here.
"Shit-eatin' dick face..."
"I heard that, you little bitch!" Hellboy responded, opening his door to send Demina a glare.
"Bite me, ya fuckin' git!" Demina said before running down the hall into her own room. For some reason, Demina found this to be a very uncomfortable situation for her: she may have become friends with the red demon in that dark and very quiet room.
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(1) "Mal Poli" by Yelle is actually a very good and very addicting French pop song; look it up on Youtube or IMEEM.
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Huh...two missions, in mucky places, and Demina cussing her brains out at Hellboy...I'd say I'm keeping with the plot! :) Lol for sewer diving! I think it's absolutely disgusting and so does Demina.
I know, I know. The whole "kitchen in the dark" thing has already been used in more than one Hellboy fanfic, but I needed something and I have been very uninspired for a while. Gimme a break.
Review please! I have only received three reviews! THREE.
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Ja ne, minna!