Author's Note: Oo0o0o0o0okay. This is based off the Hellboy comics as well as the movie...you're sure to see elements of both, probably mostly the movie. Please note, too, that the characters in here (excluding Foxley) are from the comic and not the movie. The beginning will seem VERY familiar to you if you've seen the movie. Personally, I've read the first three series of Hellboy (still trying to cough up the dough for the other two or three series...is it three?), some of the 'weird tales' comics, own the video game (yes there's like a 10-year-old Hellboy game that came out for the playstation, for those who are culturally retarded....I own it...ha) and have seen the movie more times than you have fingers. And I did my internet research. Therefore I know what I am talking about...er....mostly. I hope that if you are reading this you know about Hellboy and have at least picked up one of the comics. I don't explain anything in here about him or the B.P.R.D. really. I jump into the story. There's some naughty language, too. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. Also know that this is my very 1st fanfic ever...I dont usually do these because I hate uploading and all that shit, but whateva...
posted below are chapters 1, 2, and 3...I dont know when I'm posting more but I will eventually I promise. Please know that I tried to stay as close to the original characters as I could, not including agent Foxley.
Disclaimer Stuff: I am in no way making money off this, Mignola-copyrighted characters, yadda-yadda-yadda...
The ground was cold and hard, her footsteps echoing as she stepped cautiously into the small office-like area through a wide front door. There was a large door on the outside...'Squeaky Clean Waste Management' She wondered silently who it was fooling, then remembered that the building was covered by the forest and people weren't everywhere anyway. She surveyed the gleaming marble ground in awe, and when she looked up she noticed a single security guard, standing behind a half-wall, swinging a billy club in a lazy circle and glaring at her. Behind her were framed pictures, the glass dimly gleaming from a large spotlight behind the guard.
"You're here for the assignment?" he asked her. His voice was gruff and sarcastic, and it reminded her of trying to swallow a mouthful of salty potato chips with a dry mouth. It was also muffled like a potato. She looked up from the ground, her eyes fixating on the potato-man in the dim light, and nodded gently.
"Is that a yes or a no?" he asked, his voice becoming harsher. She gulped and tugged at her leather gloves. Was she really ready to transfer yet? She had just come over from Romania only days ago. She wasn't the nervous sort, but this was her job.
"Yes." she said loudly, confidently. The air smells almost like a mechanic-hospital, she thought. It was oily and had a slight grease scent, yet also had the bitter sting of disinfectant solution. She did not like it.
"Alright. A few steps forward please." he requested, still swinging the billy club. She looked around the room one last time, taking in the dim light and simple white paint on the walls. There were a few potted plants in the corners. She liked that. Plants are probably bugged or something though.
"Stepping." she said, almost sing-song. Her boots made a dull thud every time she took a step. When she stopped, she realized that she was standing on a large round B.P.R.D. symbol in the middle of the room. It was a gold, shiny substance that was seemingly embedded into the marble. She knelt down and ran a gloved hand slowly over the cool metal. Suddenly, the floor beneath her began to move downwards with a gentle lurch. A cool breeze from underground rushed up at her, smelling more and more like the mechanic-hospital she imagined.
"Section 51." the guard said coldly, as though reciting something mindlessly. He probably was, she realized. Her long coat was draped over the ground when she knelt so that as she moved, the edges of the coat hung loosely over the sides of the platform. She tugged on them, feeling them recoil, and hoped that they would not get stuck in the gears of the shifting elevator. Realizing that there were no sides to the elevator, she closed her eyes tightly to fight vertigo and waited for the ride to stop. She hated heights. As the platform hit bottom, metal cylinders snapped it into place. Her eyes opened wide as she heard the mechanic 'click'.
There was a large stone wall with '51' sprayed onto it, rather unprofessionally. She noted that she would take care of that later. Messy work annoyed her. And so did the coldness of the dark gray hallway. She felt almost like she was in an underground prison.
Her eyes darted around, trying to find a door, until she saw the dim glimmer of gold in a dark corner on the wall. Again, she walked, and again, her boots made a soft thud. When she approached the door, she raised one gloved fist up and was just about to knock when it opened in her face. The door was very beautifully decorated, having strange patterns carved skillfully into the gold surface. The door made a slight groan and she soon faced a small old man stooped over with a cane. They each stood with their mouths slightly open, looking at each other. The man was small compared to her hulking frame.
She saw that he had frizzled hair, gray with age, and a neatly combed graying moustache. A white beard made his face seem enigmatic, as she couldn't see all of his mouth. His eyes were brown and bright, like a dog's. He also bore round glasses. His brown wool vest and neatly folded pants were immaculate, and even the lines in his face seemed to have their own place. Everything about the man screamed librarian. The corners of his mouth turned upward in a pleasant grin, something she could see from beneath his beard.
And he too stood there staring at the girl, subconsciously making a checklist in his mind of her physical appearance.
6 foot 4, dark hair, green eyes, most definitely female. Thin figure, wide shoulders, very gaunt. Black wide-brimmed hat, farmer style. Brown long coat, black leather gloves. Pale. It looks as though her nose has been broken in two places, her cheeks are long, protruding cheekbones. Tightly pursed mouth, no teeth visible at the moment. She has some sort of rugged beauty. Definitely a fighter. he thought, running his tongue over his teeth. He extended an age spotted hand to greet the new recruit.
"Professor Trevor Bruttenholm. Call me Professor Broom, please." he said pleasantly. She took his hand and gripped it gently, as though she were afraid of hurting him. Her gloved hand felt cold and clammy, even through the leather. His hand felt pleasantly warm and soft, like a well loved pair of leather shoes.
"Foxley Addams, er....special....agent reporting from Section 108 of the Special Forces of Europe." she said. Contrary to her statement, she didn't hold the typical military tone. Her voice was calm and had meaning to it, unlike the guard in the entrance of the building. The professor lowered his hand and released her, waving his cane slowly around the gold doorway like a ringmaster before a carnival starts.
"Welcome to the B.P.R.D. Ms. Addams." he said, a sort of cool tone taking over. She grinned, her mouth showing very sharp fangs. Broom pretended not to notice.
"I have been tossed all over the Government programs and forces. I always wondered when exactly I would end up here." she said quietly. The professor grinned slightly, too. His grin was always gentle, just the corners of his mouth turning up.
"Well then I would hope you are prepared for what you see here." he said. She liked the sound of his voice. It had a rhythm all its own. Interrupting her thoughts, he spoke up once again.
"Come on inside my office." he said plainly, his grin widening. She gave the golden door a slight push and walked into the most beautiful room she thought she would ever see in her life.
Foxley hated the first of the B.P.R.D. she had seen. It was cold and professional and unwelcoming, as most of her agencies had been. But the Professor's office was warm and welcoming and lovely all the same. A spiraling staircase lay smack center in the room, and the walls were not walls; they were bookcases. Two statues adorning the bookcases featured angels in flowing robe piercing demons' skulls with spears. The whole room was a warm gold-yellow color. But the very side wall was a large blue fish tank that sent a dim glow around its side of the room. Foxley half expected to see a dolphin swim up to the glass.
"So tell me agent Addams. What do you know of the B.P.R.D.?" he said, his voice trailing off between sentences. She looked away from the blue glass and into Broom's eyes.
"I know that I really belong here and not in Europe. I know you guys deal with the occult. I know your agency started some time in the 40's. I know that it was started to stop Hitler and it was where the Torch of Liberty resided for a while. I know that it's considered 'old school' among the other agencies. And that's about it."
"So you don't know anything about our agents?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Most of the other Government agencies didn't like to talk about the B.P.R.D. but they at least always made cracks about Hellboy. His eyes twitched slightly in remembrance of being called, 'father to the red monkey', among other, more cruel names. It just showed how insensitive most men were.
"Nothing. Zippo. Zip. Zilch. Nada. Noooooothing. Nope. ZEEERO!" she blurted comically. He could tell that her nervousness had passed. Her eyes began to brighten up.
"Then let's introduce you to the other three." he said. As he was about to take a step towards the tank, she put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.
"Wait a sec. You didn't tell me what my job is specifically here. I'm not being locked up here am I? I'm going to be a janitor or nanny or something. Right?" she asked, her eyes narrowing with concern. The professor grimaced slightly. He hated to tell her the bad news.
"Well...the thing is...after your little outburst on the Romanian mission...the forces in Europe wanted me to take you in as an agent here..." he said patiently, not knowing what to say. Noone really wanted to be locked up. It was obvious Foxley saw the place as being a petting zoo full of freaks and she wanted a job here rather than a job as an agent. Broom wasn't even positive what ability she had that the Special Forces of Europe would send her to the B.P.R.D....if she was a vampire, as he assumed she was, then she belonged in Europe.
"So I'm stuck here?" she asked.
"I'm afraid so." he said, running his tongue over his teeth again. He shot her an almost apologetic glance. Her cheeks flashed with momentary color.
"Aw, damn." she muttered, her voice sounding a bit like a muffled potato (the guard?), and ripped off her hat. She flung it to the ground. And that's when the professor saw that she had horns.
They weren't nearly as large as Hellboy's horns would have been if he let them grow out. But they were there nonetheless. Two small black points, each about as large as a grown man's thumb, poking out of her temples. She had come from Romania, and had fangs, and he assumed she was a vampire. But now he had second thoughts. Was she a demon? A gargoyle?
Foxley saw him gaping quietly at her head. And then she wondered why. And then she realized why. And then she just about died of embarrassment. She had forgotten about the hat.
"I'm so sorry about that." she said, stooping over to get the farmer- style hat, laying on the rich wood ground. But the professor put his hand on hers as she was about to get it.
"Let me see." he said softly, gripping the cane tighter. Her face rushed with embarrassment and sanguine, and she looked down slowly at the hat like it was a black stain on the red wood.
"Okay." she said in a hushed whisper, ignoring the hat and kneeling down so that the small old man, Broom, could see.
He ran one index finger over the left horn, feeling the sharp curve of it, with his other hand perched atop the cane. He gently pushed his thumb against the point and felt that it was so sharp it could cut his flesh easily. If she so much as sneezed at that moment the professor would have no finger left at all. He then noticed that her hair was a rich black, layered and styled so that it looked like raven's feathers. Her horns could have been easily covered up by her hair...
Broom's entire library was filled with old encyclopedias and indexes filled with monster references and the different demons that existed. He wondered what she was, but was polite enough not to ask. He knew better than that.
"Thank you. That will be all." he said. She ducked down and scooped up her hat, dusted it off, then jammed it on her head hastily. There was a sharp riiiiiiiip sound, and the two horns that Broom was so fascinated with poked through the shredded top of the black hat.
"Crap!" she cried, pulling the hat off. She jammed it in her pocket and looked at Broom, blushing and embarrassed again. She coughed, clearing her voice, and forced a weak smile.
"I lose more hats that way..." she said, her voice trailing off. The professor smiled warmly and announced, "I'll introduce you to the other three now." The way he said it was as though he were talking to a three- year-old. But perhaps he just sounded like that sometimes.
"Are you sure? Can't I get another hat?" she stumbled over her own words. Broom chuckled.
"Do you know who they are? You don't have to worry, agent Addams. Once you meet them you'll see. They're all very...unique." he said in between quiet laughter. Foxley blushed again, and turned to the glass. She reached to touch the cool pane, but thought otherwise. She didn't want to walk up to it from the center of the room. It may seem rude to Broom.
"What's in there?" she said. Broom stopped laughing and merely smiled. A faint shadow crossed the smooth water. The blue patterns projected onto the old man's face and made him look almost alien.
"Later, I'll show you." he said, walking over to five stands alongside the glass. Foxley never noticed them until now. They were ornate; made of gleaming bronze-colored metal.
"Okay Abe." he said to a small black box on the side of the tank, flipping the pages of books propped against the stands. As the pages pattered against the side of the book, it sent small clouds of dust soaring up into the air. Foxley shook her head in disbelief and confusion. What the hell were they, she thought.
"So where are the other agents?" she asked. Broom stopped and faced her, walking slowly away from the glass. He had a half-grin cocked across his face....if you would call it a grin. The corners of his mouth were turned up, but his mouth was crooked.
"In another hallway." he said plainly. She remembered how cold and unfriendly the halls at the bureau were. She tried to be polite.
"Quite frankly, sir," she said,, twisting a strand of the raven hair around her gloved finger. "I'd rather just stay in this room. I'm quite fond of it."
"Alright." he said. She sighed in relief. She hated the cold. She was always cold. Just thinking about the dim hallways made her shiver. Foxley pulled her gloves on tighter. Seeing this, the professor wondered.
"Are you cold, agent Addams?" he asked her, looking vaguely concerned. She nodded.
"I've come from Romania, obviously, and I've caught a chill." she murmured. He nodded.
"Well, it's time to call a meeting then." he announced almost cheerfully. She nodded.
"I think I'm warming up just about now."
Chapter 2: Firegirl, Fishman, and the Amazing Red Stranger
Foxley sat perched on a high stool Broom had pulled up for her. She had her back to the blue tank of water, feeling the glow through her clothes. It had a strange feeling; not cold and not warm. But it was light all the same, and she enjoyed it.
Broom had made some sort of announcement. The two of them sat in his office waiting, and Foxley was staring at the sculptures and carvings hung on the back walls. They seemed ancient.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the back door. It was opposite the side Foxley had entered, and she strained her neck to try to see who or what was knocking.
A girl came in. She was wearing a rose colored outfit and some sort of knit hat. Her hair was a lovely auburn color, and she had a white cigarette dangling out of her mouth. She raised a hand in Foxley's direction and waved slowly. Broom left the room through the door the girl had entered.
"Hey there." she said almost coldly. She struggled to find a lighter, as she was patting her pockets. Then she shrugged and raised her hand to her face. A blue glow illuminated the room for a brief second as a ball of flame enveloped her finger and disappeared as soon as it had come. Foxley's jaw dropped for a moment. Fox twisted her hair around her finger again and gave a weak grin. The fire-girl took a puff on the cigarette, blowing a neatly formed smoke-ring in Foxley's direction.
"Yeah, I'm the new guy. The name's Foxley Addams. Call me Fox." she said, snapping out of her trance. That fire was so cool! she thought
"Nice to meet you. I'm Liz." she said coldly and almost sarcastically. Liz seemed like the quiet type to Foxley. The type that snapped when she got upset. The type that she should avoid. God only knows what would happen if they ever got into an argument. Liz walked calmly into the room and leaned on the bookcase next to Foxley and blew another smoke ring. This time, thankfully, it was not aimed at Fox, who was looking cautiously behind her at the blue tank.
"You know what's in there yet, Fox?" Liz said, taking a drag on her cigarette. Foxley twisted her hair around her finger again.
"No, not yet. Professor told me that he would say later." she growled. Liz smirked.
"There's a fish man in there, yanno." she said blankly. Fox grinned, and before she could say something smart there was a knock on the other side of the glass. She whirled in time to see a webbed hand. She focused on the hand, then saw a face. There really was a fish man!
"Hello." a voice said from the black box Broom had spoken into before. It sounded fuzzy and obscured by the water and electricity. But it was clear enough. Below the box, she noticed, was an ancient looking piece of paper with an expensive black frame. Icthyo Sapiens, April 14th 1865. Abe. That was what Broom had said earlier. Fox shrugged to herself.
"Hello Abe." she said vacantly, her head spinning. The fish man looked as confused as she felt.
"How is it you know my name?" he asked her. This time it was her that smiled.
"Elementary, my dear Watson. Logic." she said comically, talking in a phony British accent. The fish man, Abe, grinned with his small mouth. His gills flared and spewed bubbles. She assumed he was laughing, at least, the fish equivalent of laughter.
He gave a kick with one long blue leg and spiraled into the back of the tank. The bubbles he left vanished to the top of the swirling water. But Foxley wasn't through with him yet.
"Are you one of the agents?" she asked him. His face appeared out of the water, pressed up against the glass, and the black box crackled "Indeed."
"Lovely." she said. Liz watched on with hidden amusement. Her eyes remained cold as she drew on the cigarette once more. Professor Broom was nowhere in sight. Suddenly, Fox's ears picked up a loud thump. More thumps. Abe sank back into the watery depths of the tank, taken in by inky darkness. The sound was approaching.
Thump....thump....thump! She heard. It sounded like tree trunks smacking the ground, but not quite so hard or loud. It was like listening to a little kid stomp down a hallway when told to go to his room. Then another sound-a voice.
"Foxley? Remember how you were worried about your horns?" Broom called happily from a long way down the back room where Liz had come out of. She saw that Liz now had a slight look of pleasure wiped across her face. What was it?
"Yeeeeaaaah?" she called back, wheeling around away from Abe's tank and staring at the blackness of the hallway. She didn't know what to expect. Perhaps she would be introduced to the giant monkey she was always hearing about from the other agencies?
Suddenly, a profile appeared from within the doorway. Broom's withered features were sharpened by the contrasting shadow and light from the lamps in the office. Suddenly, a blue glow snapped to life behind her and illuminated the already-blue fish tank. Liz had ignited her hand again to light another cigarette. Fox could smell the smouldering.
"Meet my son." he said, a look of vague amusement on his face. The tree-trunk sound became louder. And suddenly, the light turned red. Foxley looked straight across the room rather than down at the old man and saw a man. A strange man. A red man. The light was reflecting off his flesh and turned Broom's face an almost evil crimson. The tall stranger stepped forward into the room. Liz looked more amused than Broom had, and Abe was still in the depths of his tank.
"Helllloooo baaaaaaaaaby!" the red man chortled cheerfully and comically at Foxley. His voice was deep and chesty and slightly sarcastic. Her cheeks became paler, the blood draining out of them.
The red stranger was wearing an outfit similar to hers, at least under her coat: a black shirt and pants. His right hand was larger than his left, and he had a stubble of black hairs across the front of his face. His eyes looked slightly cloudy, like he wasn't yet awake. Aside from a tightly pulled ponytail, his hair was matted and fuzzy like he had just woken up. In one hand was a steaming cup of coffee. However, it looked more like a pot than a cup. He took a heavy sip and guzzled it a bit, then wiped his mouth with his other arm. And then let out a mighty belch.
The sound reverberated through Abe's black box with a crackle, and it echoed through the hall he had just lumbered out of. He flashed a sort of lopsided grin, and Fox noticed he had a massive underbite. He yawned and stretched stiffly, including a long red tail that flicked back and forth. His tail reminded her of a cat's, the way it moved.
"So you're the new guy, eh?" he said, straining his neck forward to gawk at Fox.
"New girl." she corrected, looking at the two goggles on his forehead. Why would he be wearing goggles?
"Mornin' all." he grunted, waving in Fox and Liz's direction. She heard the gentle patter of Abe against the glass. She presumed he was waving at the red guy.
The red stranger looked at Fox, his amber eyes narrowing. He took a few gargantuan steps forward, and Foxley discovered that his footsteps were the thumping she had heard. Broom looked on from the red darkness of the doorway, his eyes smiling. Liz blew another smoke ring from behind Foxley. The tobacco stung her nose.
"So, new guy, what's with the horns? I thought I was the only one around here..." he began to say. Before Foxley could object, he took another step forward so that he was almost eye level with her. Surprisingly, he was only a little less than an inch taller than her. He downed the rest of his coffee. Fox wondered if it were morning or not. Looking at her antique watch, she saw that it was a bright and early 5 O'clock in the morning.
"Father told me there was a new recruit that could use a little welcoming." he said, waving his arms around. It was obvious that the amazing red stranger was not taking an instant liking to her. But in the same sense, if he didn't like her then he wouldn't joke with her...
"You really want to know? All of you want to know what I am?" she said, a slight grin spreading like Liz's fire across her face. The red guy nodded. Abe's crackling voice agreed. Liz just sat there in silence, puffing away on her white cigarette.
"I am a demon, believe it or not." she said solemnly. The red guy erupted with laughter. Broom was full out smiling, and Liz was giggling slightly. Foxley didn't hear Abe, but she assumed that he had let out another fish-laugh. She didn't know what was so funny.
"What?" Fox asked. The red guy stepped forward and looked into her eyes. He smelled like stale candy, and she noticed more facial hair- sideburns and a small beard. However, he had no eyebrows. His teeth were large, and his nose had a sort of hook to it. The wooden floor groaned with his weight. He had a sort of scowl, but also had some sort of estranged pleasant expression.
"'believe it or not' my ass! I believe it alright. Trus' me." he said, pointing to the goggles with a smirk. It finally hit her that those weren't goggles.
"Foxley, are you warmed up enough to have a look around?" Broom called from the doorway. Fox looked up from the red stranger's yellow eyes. But before she could answer, the red guy extended a beefy hand. They shook hands heartily, and he said quietly in her ear, "I'm Hellboy."
"I'm agent Foxley Addams, European special forces, section 108. Call me Fox." she said, leaning close to him and breathing down his neck. The rest of the room must have been wondering what they were saying because Liz looked confused. Abe must have thought the two were flirting or something because his black box interrupted with a loud and obviously put-on cough. Broom was featureless except for the upturned corners of his mouth lurking under his white beard, as usual. Hellboy. The name sounded familiar, like one of those things you hear construction workers talking about in the dead of night, or something that is whispered about on deserted streets. It suddenly struck her: she used to do cover art for a comic book called Hellboy. Suddenly, she began laughing. Hellboy looked confused, and shifted his massive weight from one leg to the other, sending the floor creaking again. Foxley felt the stinging heat of another smoke ring being blown down the back of her neck. No wonder the red guy looked familiar!
"I used to do the comic books about you!" she cried. Hellboy chuckled slightly.
"Are you Fox Crowley, then?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with sudden interest. His face grew almost solemn. Fox nodded heavily.
"Yeah! I did the cover and some of the ink for the 'Asylum Saint' series, the ones without the B.P.R.D. in them,. And some of my other stuff ended up on Ebay, like sketches and stuff. Why?" she asked. Hellboy looked almost giddy, something that was hilarious considering he was a 350 pound demon.
"C'mere a sec, eh?" he called, rushing down the hallway he had come from. Broom looked on in quiet curiosity, and Liz sat silently to finish her cigarette. Abe was in the back of his tank, invisible and enigmatic. They ran down a wide hallway with thick glass displays. The light from the cases was enough to light the hallway, and the couple came to a lurching halt at the entrance of a large metal door. Hellboy dug around in his pants pockets for a moment, his face contorting in effort, then pulled out an odd shaped electronic key.
"Aha!" he exclaimed. He jammed it in the lock next to the door, and it swung open with a mechanic beep. Fox looked in and saw a mess: twinkie wrappers, empty zippo lighters, and various comics scattered throughout the room. He walked up to a particularly large stack of comics, dug around for a minute, and pulled out a smaller stack. But in one of the comics there was a white sheet of paper hanging loosely in between the front cover and the front page. He took the white sheet out of the comic with his stone hand and unfurled it. It was a picture Foxley had drawn; one of the few sold on Ebay. She studied the paper and saw that it was the one that sold for thousands.
The paper was heavy-weight, about 20-by-18. There was a large ornate picture of Hellboy inked in the center, with various figures of myth inked in plainly around him. Below the Hellboy drawing, "Hellboy: Myth or Fact?" was written in bold red letters. Fox couldn't help but grin. The big red guy was a fan himself.
"I love your work." he said with the awe of a small boy. His voice was quiet. He dropped the comics on the floor and left the room, closing the door with a loud 'bang.'
Hellboy shook his head slowly back and forth and smirked, muttering, "I friggin' love yer work, Fox."
Asylum Saint was never an actual comic that was released, but for the sake of the story I created it...don't go to your local comic shop looking for it! laughs
...more to come, kiddies....be sure to review this post! Its my very 1st fanfic!