Author's Notes: In the words of Colin Macherie, "You tolerate me! You really tolerate me!" That's so cool. I'm quite proud of myself for a lot of those scenes. I've gotten a lot of positive feed back about the scene with Abe flipping Hellboy the bird. I've just gotta say that Abe deserves to be a badass every once in a while. HB can't have all the fun now. I really hope you all like this chapter. I'm especially proud of the action sequence in this chapter. Again, Read, Review, and ROCK ON!
Disclaimer: The majority of the characters mentioned in this story (Abe, Liz, and Hellboy) are owned and created by Mike Mignola. Some of the characters mentioned are of my own creation. I am in no way, shape or form making any money off of this fic. Revolution Studios and Guillermo Del Toro also own the rights to Hellboy, and have made one hell of an awesome movie. Those who haven't seen it should. It has reaffirmed my faith in comic book movies. (Well X2 did that first, but Hellboy was just an awesome depiction of the comic.) The story is not a part of any actual mythology to the extent of my knowledge.
Chapter 2
Crash, Thud! Hellboy kicked the door in. Splinters were left hanging from the hinges. His left hand instinctively reached for his personalized revolver, which was made larger to accommodate for his larger-than-human hand. Instead, he reached into a pouch in his standard-issue bureau belt, pulled out a small flashlight and flipped its switch. Nothing happened. Normally Hellboy wouldn't have worried himself over something as remedial as that. However, he distinctly remembered replacing the batteries in all of their battery-powered equipment in the car before they arrived. It blinked to life, if very dim light could be considered any life at all, after Hellboy softly tapped it in his right hand several times.
The place didn't look that bad, in Hellboy's opinion. The hallway had a general feel of history inside. Then he turned towards the living room and groaned. He never knew why people felt they had to give their homes a 'new-and-improved' look these days. The original furniture had been replaced with what people nowadays called 'Modern.' The walls had a garish pink and white combination on the walls. It wouldn't have been Hellboy's first choice of color for an ancient house. The chairs in the living room appeared as though they were accommodated for outdoor use, the coffee table was glass and misshapen, and the lights just looked plain weird hanging from the ceiling without any lamp shading. Maybe Spooky's just pissed off with the designer's work, Hellboy thought. He sure as hell would have been.
However, the house also held the same qualities of any haunted house: the creaky floorboards, slamming outdoor window shutters (even without wind), and the eerie feeling that he was being watched from every corner of the room. He scanned the area, trying to find anything out of place: something that belonged in an old, creepy house, not in a 'modernized' historical family pad. After completing his search unsuccessfully, he turned to the entrance of the kitchen, which was also the dining room. He spotted Abe, sans his coat, beard, and glasses. His blue eyes reflected the dull illumination from Hellboy's flashlight. Hellboy was getting tired of having an unreliable light source. He entered the dining room/kitchen and scanned for the light switches. He found them next to the back entrance, and flipped them on. As Hellboy's hand left the switch, it immediately began zapping and shooting electrical sparks. Hellboy flinched in reaction, but didn't really have any cause to worry. The sparks finally stopped, the droning electrical hum died down, and the lights above gave a decent, but dull, illumination to the room.
The kitchen appeared to be the most normal, but the agents could tell that most of the damage was done there. Hellboy made a mental note of the China cabinet at his left. Jeez, he thought bitterly, people and their "prized" possessions. He spotted knives imbedded into different locations in the kitchen. Big, sharp knives. One sticking above the back door, three on the table in a triangular pattern, and the final one was imbedded in the ceiling. The walls had rust-colored spots behind the tan wallpaper. Hellboy opened one of the pouches from his belt and pulled out a small jack knife. He walked over to the tinted areas and cut a small patch of the wallpaper to reveal the symbol of an unholy design on the lumber of the wall. Hellboy's eyes widened. It was a skull with its gaping jaw open, revealing the traditional pentagram within a circle. "Oh crap." He muttered.
The symbol belonged to an ancient cult, the Order of the Malraj: A fanatic organization that specialized in its own brand of religious justice. Members of the Malraj were known to commit perverse acts of sacrilege in the name of God. Minor sins committed by an individual were 'rectified' by mass murders. Adulterers were castrated and lynched. The list went on and on with that group. "Major" sins were punished in far worse forms of cruelty.
Abe suddenly blinked in surprise, shaking his head as if his train of thought derailed. "Something's wrong. I can't pinpoint the disturbance anymore." He scrunched his eyebrows and waved his webbed hand around slowly, trying to get a lock on whatever was haunting the premises.
As if sensing its own impending doom, the symbol began to glow red, spilling a red liquid - obviously blood - onto the counter, and then the floor, at a quickening pace. Other various spots on the walls began glowing red, as well. The same red liquid started seeping through cracks in the wallpaper.
"Abe," Hellboy whispered, "the bet's off. Get out of here. Now." The lumber in the house had been taken from the Malraj churches, in which many innocent lives had been taken. Because of the unjust nature of the sacrifices, the innocent souls were lingering in limbo around that which took their lives. The two agents weren't simply dealing with one pissed off ghost. They were dealing with a mass of vengeful, tormented souls. Who the hell would leave the gallows of an occult church to be used as building lumber?
Abe knew better than to question Hellboy's knowledge in these scenarios. "Good luck, Red." He said before he started towards the back exit. Abe didn't walk two steps before he felt a rope tie around his waist. He looked down, however, and saw nothing. An incredible force pulled him through the basement door; chips of wood smashed and cut into his face. He landed on the basement floor with a loud thud. Abe passed out before a pair of robed arms shot out from the shadows. They grabbed his legs and dragged him into the darkness.
"Abe!" Hellboy shouted. He was about to run to his friend's aid when he noticed the scattered knives shaking, as if being yanked out from their resting spots. "Not good." He muttered as they sprang to life. As if directed by some ethereal force, they flew at him with deadly speed and accuracy. Out of instinct, Hellboy quickly raised his right arm in defense as he quickly stepped backwards.
The blade at his right zoomed towards him. Hellboy dove backwards, landing on his back. Actually he slipped because of the blood on the floor, but he wasn't going to admit that. He grunted a curse as the back of his head thunked against the wall. The knife stabbed just below his left leg, above his tail and through his large trench coat, momentarily stuck into the floorboards. Hellboy quickly looked upward and snatched the second knife at the hilt with his left hand, the razor-edge tip just inches from his face. Even with the strength in his normal arm, he had to exhert more force than usual to control the spastic blade. Another knife plunged towards his face.
Hellboy grunted in effort as he swung the blade in his hand in a wide blocking maneuver. Steel clashed against steel with an ear-splitting CLANG! The deflected blade twirled in midair and crashed into the China cabinet. Hellboy cringed at the sound of the breaking glass and China. At least it was only the top shelf. He realized there was going to be hell to pay later, but he had to stay focused. Hellboy looked to his left and saw the entrance to the hallway. Mustering his strength, he swung the knife on its flat side at the edge of the door, smashing the blade into tiny bits. He tossed the wooden handle aside. One down, four to go.
Hellboy jumped to his feet, tearing a small, upside-down 'V' in the lower portion of his coat. Dammit, Hellboy silently cursed when he heard the material tear. Those coats never came cheap. He had forgotten about the first knife. It yanked itself free from the floor and launched towards Hellboy. He threw his right hand in an uppercut, knocking the knife in the opposite direction, towards the China cabinet. Aw crap.
He growled in annoyed frustration as he heard the other shelves give away, destroying the remaining China dishes. He looked up and quickly threw his weight to the right. The fourth blade just barely skimmed his left ear. It quickly whirled about tauntingly as Hellboy regained his bearings and smashed his right fist through the wall just seconds too late. He was about to turn and face his inanimate opponents, but jerked in mid-turn. His hand was stuck through the wall. Hellboy groaned in irritation and tried to tug his giant fist loose. His eyes widened when he spotted the four remaining knives, in a diamond-type alignment, closing in on him. That was it; Hellboy had had enough of this crap. Friggin' possessed knives! That's crap! Lousy home décor be damned! He wanted to finish this.
Hellboy gritted his teeth and yanked his arm out with his demonic strength. He roared a furious battle cry as he threw his massive right fist in a giant, downward blow, a chunk of wall still clinging to his hand, smashing the oncoming knives to pieces. The linoleum had a deep imprint of a giant stone fist. Luckily, no wires or water pipes were broken. Hellboy smirked as he removed the remaining pieces of wall from his hand and dusted off his shoulders.
He turned to look at the new 'window' he had just added to the wall. It gave an okay view to the living room. He brought his left hand to his chin in mock contemplation, scratching the small patch of black beard on his chin. He may not have been a licensed interior designer, but he liked it. A little wider and it could have been a decent bar window, with the right essentials next to it. Yeah, that could work.
He decided to get back to business. "Nice try, Spooky," he chuckled to nothing in particular, "What else ya got?" Hellboy's smirk faltered when he looked downward. The scattered shards began jumping to life on the ground. He scrunched his eyebrows in annoyance; it was going to be one of those days. It could never be just a simple haunting anymore, could it?
Abe opened his eyes, which didn't seem to help much, and groaned in pain. A jackhammer suddenly began drilling at the base of his skull. Oh, wait; it was just his brain harshly reminding him of his current situation. Through the pain, he tried to take a look at his surroundings. The room he found himself in was near pitch black. Why couldn't hauntings be simple anymore?
Abe was lying on a table of some sort, without any constraints. That was a first. He willed himself to rise and sit up, despite his body's aching refusal to cooperate. He took a glance around his surroundings.
The room was pretty bare. There was a closed door in the right corner of the room, opposite the table Abe was laying on. Rotting, wooden walls surrounded the area. The only light source was a bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling, literally, by a thread. Even that was flickering between light and dark. The tiled floor had a massive calcium build-up in its grooves. The nearby counter contained a sink and an assortment of bloodied surgical tools next to it. At that moment, Abe would have preferred staring down Rasputin than hanging around much longer.
Remembering the crash, Abe brought a hand to his face. He found a few bandaged cuts and scrapes, but nothing too serious. He checked himself over, to see the extent of the damage. His left hand was put in a cast, and his ribs were taped up. His body would heal on its own in no time. However, he looked down to find his belt and holster missing. His gun was also missing.
He set his feet on the ground, and doubled over as his stomach lurched in pain. Okay, Abe thought bitterly as he grunted in pain, it's gonna take a little longer to heal. For the time being, he had no means of defending himself. He placed his right arm on the table for support as he inched towards the exit. A breeze flowed through the open door. It made him shiver. He could have sworn the breeze whispered "Ichtyo Sapiens" in his ear. Abraham Sapien was discovered 20 years ago in a glass tank underneath St. Trinian's Hospital. The tank had a note pinned to it. That note had the exact same words. What was going on?
"Brother," the 'wind' whispered again, louder this time. The 'wind' somehow sounded familiar to Abe, as if he had heard it in a faded dream long ago. "You are not yet well." Abe spun around, flinching in pain. Curiosity was etched in his features. As if emerging from the shadows themselves, a robed, hooded figure stood before him. The robed figure's left shoulder held the symbol Hellboy had found on the kitchen wall earlier.
The figure lifted its arms; pale white hands became visible. They pushed back the hood, revealing the face of a handsome, pale, blonde man of about 30. His haunted blue eyes sparkled in the dim light as he smiled at Abe in recognition. He ran up to Abe and hugged him. "Brother," he spoke with a noticeable German accent; "We can now continue God's work."
End Chapter 2
A/N: Again, I'd like to hear your thoughts about this chapter. What did you like, what would you like to see changed? I'd like to hear your feedback, both positive and critical. As a side note, I am working on the third chapter. I am about halfway through writing it, and I should start typing that half out soon. I hope to get the next chapter up by next week. I apologize for the wait.