"I'm sorry, but what you want, we can't give you," the voice on the
other end of the phone said.
"You're not hearing me," Liz said, "It's not like we want it, we actually need him."
"Agent Sherman, I--"
"Hold on," Liz said as she handed the phone to Hellboy.
"Listen to me," Hellboy said in his deep bass voice, "You know who this is, and I am telling you to send Roger. It's not like we're telling you we want the goddamn Ghostbusters."
"Roger is not available. Whatever you've stirred up there, you have to deal with."
"What we've stirred up?'
"Yes. Since you and Agent Sherman have arrived, our satellites can't get a clear picture of Stull, presumably due to the psychic disturbance. Use what you already have. Out." And the phone clicked off.
"Prick." Hellboy said, and slapped the flip phone closed.
"No luck?" Liz asked.
"No luck. I swear, sometimes I wonder why I carry all these things," Hellboy said looking down at the pouches filled with runes, relics, and herbs. He looked over at Liz, who was sitting on the bed. "Well, put your gear on. It's show time."
The sky was dark and overcast as they pulled up to the wrought iron gates of the cemetery. Hellboy could smell the faint fume of burning plastic over the rotten egg odor of the cemetery. He glanced over to Liz, and saw the little tendrils of smoke curling up from the steering wheel.
"Hey," he said, putting his left hand on her shoulder. Her shirt was hot. "Relax. Cakewalk, right?"
Liz took a deep breath. "Right," she said.
Hellboy took his hand off of her shoulder and pulled the Samaritan from it's holster. He opened a canvas pouch from his belt and pulled out the enormous thumb-sized cartridges for it. The click of the bullet going into the chamber was reassuring. Every one he loaded, he got a little more courage. It's go time, he thought to himself. Hellboy holstered the gun, Liz shut the Lincoln off, and they both stepped out. Hellboy opened up the wide swinging gate, it's rusty hinges groaning. As soon as they stepped in, a low growl seemed to come from every direction. The air grew more humid the closer they got to the ruins of the old church. Hellboy unsnapped the Samaritan's holster. The growl got a little louder and the sky turned a dark red. Liz heard what sounded like the scuttling of feet in the grass. Out of the corners of their eyes, they could catch glimpses of little shadows, about the size of terriers, running from behind the gravestones.
"What is that?" she asked.
"Imps," Hellboy said, scowling. "That feeling when you're alone, in the dark, and you feel like you're being watched... that's them."
Liz took a deep breath and squeezed the rosary in her vest pocket tightly. As they were walking past a tree, they saw an old man, about 60, wearing horn rimmed glasses, and the black pants and shirt and collar of a catholic priest. He turned toward them.
"Hey, son. Got a light?" he asked, putting a Lucky into his mouth.
"What are you doing here, sir?" Liz asked. The priest looked at Hellboy.
"He's a ghost," Hellboy said. He leaned over and whispered in her ear, "And call him 'father', Liz."
The priest threw his hands up in the air. "Well?"
"Yeah, I've got a light for you," Liz said and walked over. She put her thumb under his cigarette and lit it. "Now, father, why are you here?"
"My name is Father Daniel Carter, and I'm here because I know why you're here. I'm going to help you," the old man took a drag off of his cigarette.
"Hey, can I bum one?" asked Hellboy.
"Sure," the priest said, and tossed him the pack. "Keep it, I've got another pack. Anyway, I died in '64, poisoned by the local wizard of the Ku Klux Klan. He was an occultist, too. After I died, most of the town converted to Satanism. Without a shepherd, the flock stray from the meadow to be consumed."
Hellboy nodded, puffing the cigarette. Liz decided to light up too.
"So, when I was buried here, I became the next guardian of it. The previous priest of our church, Father Campbell, had been the guardian after he died. I relieved him of duty. I couldn't keep this ground hallowed. They were all too strong. But you're here now. That's why I'm going to help you. I'd like to be relieved of duty."
"Let's do it to it, then," Hellboy said, and the three started back toward the church ruins.
"You're not hearing me," Liz said, "It's not like we want it, we actually need him."
"Agent Sherman, I--"
"Hold on," Liz said as she handed the phone to Hellboy.
"Listen to me," Hellboy said in his deep bass voice, "You know who this is, and I am telling you to send Roger. It's not like we're telling you we want the goddamn Ghostbusters."
"Roger is not available. Whatever you've stirred up there, you have to deal with."
"What we've stirred up?'
"Yes. Since you and Agent Sherman have arrived, our satellites can't get a clear picture of Stull, presumably due to the psychic disturbance. Use what you already have. Out." And the phone clicked off.
"Prick." Hellboy said, and slapped the flip phone closed.
"No luck?" Liz asked.
"No luck. I swear, sometimes I wonder why I carry all these things," Hellboy said looking down at the pouches filled with runes, relics, and herbs. He looked over at Liz, who was sitting on the bed. "Well, put your gear on. It's show time."
The sky was dark and overcast as they pulled up to the wrought iron gates of the cemetery. Hellboy could smell the faint fume of burning plastic over the rotten egg odor of the cemetery. He glanced over to Liz, and saw the little tendrils of smoke curling up from the steering wheel.
"Hey," he said, putting his left hand on her shoulder. Her shirt was hot. "Relax. Cakewalk, right?"
Liz took a deep breath. "Right," she said.
Hellboy took his hand off of her shoulder and pulled the Samaritan from it's holster. He opened a canvas pouch from his belt and pulled out the enormous thumb-sized cartridges for it. The click of the bullet going into the chamber was reassuring. Every one he loaded, he got a little more courage. It's go time, he thought to himself. Hellboy holstered the gun, Liz shut the Lincoln off, and they both stepped out. Hellboy opened up the wide swinging gate, it's rusty hinges groaning. As soon as they stepped in, a low growl seemed to come from every direction. The air grew more humid the closer they got to the ruins of the old church. Hellboy unsnapped the Samaritan's holster. The growl got a little louder and the sky turned a dark red. Liz heard what sounded like the scuttling of feet in the grass. Out of the corners of their eyes, they could catch glimpses of little shadows, about the size of terriers, running from behind the gravestones.
"What is that?" she asked.
"Imps," Hellboy said, scowling. "That feeling when you're alone, in the dark, and you feel like you're being watched... that's them."
Liz took a deep breath and squeezed the rosary in her vest pocket tightly. As they were walking past a tree, they saw an old man, about 60, wearing horn rimmed glasses, and the black pants and shirt and collar of a catholic priest. He turned toward them.
"Hey, son. Got a light?" he asked, putting a Lucky into his mouth.
"What are you doing here, sir?" Liz asked. The priest looked at Hellboy.
"He's a ghost," Hellboy said. He leaned over and whispered in her ear, "And call him 'father', Liz."
The priest threw his hands up in the air. "Well?"
"Yeah, I've got a light for you," Liz said and walked over. She put her thumb under his cigarette and lit it. "Now, father, why are you here?"
"My name is Father Daniel Carter, and I'm here because I know why you're here. I'm going to help you," the old man took a drag off of his cigarette.
"Hey, can I bum one?" asked Hellboy.
"Sure," the priest said, and tossed him the pack. "Keep it, I've got another pack. Anyway, I died in '64, poisoned by the local wizard of the Ku Klux Klan. He was an occultist, too. After I died, most of the town converted to Satanism. Without a shepherd, the flock stray from the meadow to be consumed."
Hellboy nodded, puffing the cigarette. Liz decided to light up too.
"So, when I was buried here, I became the next guardian of it. The previous priest of our church, Father Campbell, had been the guardian after he died. I relieved him of duty. I couldn't keep this ground hallowed. They were all too strong. But you're here now. That's why I'm going to help you. I'd like to be relieved of duty."
"Let's do it to it, then," Hellboy said, and the three started back toward the church ruins.
