The winds were so strong that it was to Hellboy's consternation that he
couldn't keep his cigar lit long enough to enjoy it before it was blown
out. The sky had darkened considerably in between the time that his plane
was forced to land to when he and Van Helsing left the airport for the
nearest crossroad.
Once the duo were out on the streets, Van Helsing took a map out of one of his many pockets and tried to unfold it without having the wind blow it away.
"Let's see, the nearest crossroad from here...Dammit!!" he groaned as the wind caught at the thin paper and took it for a ride.
"Don't worry about it, Gabe. I've been to Dublin before. The nearest crossroad from here is this way," the beast replied and started walking off with a silent Van Helsing close behind him.
When they reached it neither of them saw anyone except for what appeared to be about three homeless men slumped on the ground. Van Helsing didn't see any fairies, not that he would now what shape they would take, the bartender back in the airport proved that. It wasn't until they were almost on top of the men that they both realized that the ones whom they thought bums were wearing such finery as to make them anything but homeless and the smeared blood barely hid the burns that were raked over their skins. The blood mixed with the dirt and filth of the streets hid the quality of the fabric; and the burns appeared to hurt so much that it seemed easier to lay still than actually move anywhere. Out of the three of them, only one seemed to still be alive.
Van Helsing looked to Hellboy, and then back to the beaten figures on the ground, and then back again. Hellboy nodded, and then went back to trying to light his cigar. Gabriel stepped up to them, then knelt down over the one survivor. His breaths were ragged, and there was a faint sizzling sound from the wounds, as though something in them still burned.
"What happened?" He asked. It was not a shout. It was not a threat. His voice was calm; faeries may have been new to him, but when one hunts monsters the sight of a man or beast on the verge of death was all too common. "Where is the boy?"
The faerie man's eyes focused on him with some effort. "So ye're the one they sent?" He asked, then stopped, taking several breaths before continuing. "Pity ye didn't get here a bit sooner." He smiled, and the teeth were misshapen and crooked. Van Helsing blinked, and then, as if for the first time, noticed the face of the man. Had his ears always been so comically big? Had he always had those tiny eyes?
The fairy didn't seem to notice. "Sorry we don't have the little one for ye." He said. "Ye just missed him."
"Where did he go?" Asked Gabriel. The man did not answer. "Where?!" He said, his voice rising. A couple yards away, Hellboy gave up on his cigar, tossed it to the ground, and began to walk over.
"He can't hear ye, lad." Another voice called, over the wind and from above. Hellboy and Gabriel looked up to see another fair man, perched and leering from the top of a lightpost. "An' even if he did, it'd be little good he'd do for you." He looked down on the bodies. "It's a sad thing to be king of a kingdom, and nothing to be done for its shrinking."
"Shrinking?" Gabriel muttered to himself.
"The Fair Folk are dying out, Gabe. Plain and simple," Hellboy explained. "I think because of their immortality, they can never have any children of their own; so there's no replacing any fairy that gets up and is killed for whatever reason. It's one of the reasons why they take human babies. They like to be able to at least have the experience of rising children."
"How sad and yet pathetic at the same time."
"I couldn't agree more."
"'ey." Said the king. "Vanishin or not, we have our pride." He stood up straight, and did his best to look like a king of some import, not a three- and-a-half-foot little ruler of a smaller domain. "And a blow t' that pride demands another in return." He grinned again. "An' so I'll be telling you a bit more about where your little boy has gone, Gabriel."
"It's an ugly road ye'll be taking." He said. "And ye'll be seeing more than a bit of what's come before, both of ye." He said.
Above them, lightning lit up the sky and seconds later thunder announced the storm's presence to the cowering landlocked creatures below.
"If I were you boys," the faerie king said, "I'd be looking for a better place to spend yer time." He looked up at the clouds, and all the sun could do behind them was make them look like sheets of lead, or iron. "This storm'll be bringing a bit more than drizzle this way, y'know."
Hellboy felt something across his cheek, cold and sharp like a knife. He slapped his hand to his face and pulled it away, expecting to see blood. But only his fingers made the raindrop seem red.
The king nodded. "There'll be plenty more of those." He said, and from somewhere—a pocket, maybe? Did he even have pockets? —he produced an umbrella. "As it's looking like ye're grounded," he said, "I'd suggest ye take cover, the both of ye." He opened the umbrella, and held it high. "Or maybe take it into yer heads to do somethin' about it." He added as his feet lifted from the lightpost and he drifted upwind. "Ye'll have time enough for that, even after ye find the boy."
And with that, he drifted into the sky and vanished. Gabriel stood there, dumbfounded, and looked back to Hellboy. "Is he always like that?" He asked.
"Pretty much." Said Hellboy, and turned to walk further down the street, wondering if he could call a taxi.
Van Helsing followed for a moment, and then paused. II never told him my name./I he thought to himself, spinning to look back. But the post was all that was there; even the bodies, vagrant or fairy, were gone. He sighed, shook his head, and marched on.
Eventually they came to a bar. There was no hesitation as they walked right in and headed straight to the bar. After ordering something warm and very alcoholic, depression and feelings of failure took over they joined the rest of the patrons in bemoaning and wailing at the unfairness of the universe.
But at least in here Hellboy was finally able to light his cigar and be able to enjoy its pleasant flavor. He leisurely released a great puff of smoke and saw the headline of the day's paper out of the corner of his eye. What he read startled him enough to make him cough as he grabbed the paper.
"Hellboy, what is it?" Gabriel asked in surprise and small concern. Hellboy was fully capable of taking care of himself, but what could have caused him to nearly choke on his own cigar smoke?
"Gabe, we've got trouble."
"What?"
"Listen to this: 'Kidnapping Leads to Murder...'"
"'...Authorities Still Have No Suspects.' According to the article, this is about the fourth time that this has happened. And the reporter suspects that all of these are related. It goes on to assume that this 'ring' of children kidnappers may have taken more but none of them have been muddled by murdering any adult that was trying to prevent the kidnapping from taken place until recently. Our sources say that the ones who were murder were done so in a very grisly manner to suggest that the undead might have been involved," Walter concluded as he set the newspaper on the table between himself and his employer.
Sir Integra Wingates Hellsing picked up the paper and scanned the article that Walter had shown her. It was indeed everything that he said it was. Her face took on a thoughtful expression as she lowered the paper and pulled on her cigar. This was very disturbing. Approximately six children, possibly more, were taken from their homes and nothing else was heard about them. There have been no ransom demands and no bodies have been found. Whatever the kidnapper wanted with the children, it had to be a vile thing. And the manner in which the deaths occurred did sound like the Hellsing Organization was needed.
"Walter," she said.
"Yes, Sir Integra?"
"Since we have no clear idea who or what is responsible for this debacle, go ahead and send some of our agents to Ireland to solve the problem. They are also to try to rescue as many of the children as possible and return them to their parents."
"Certainly, Sir Integra," Walter responded.
"Master," a dark, almost seductive voice greeted from the shadows of her cell. Integra sighed and leaned back in her chair.
"What do you want, Alucard?"
The vampire lord emerged from the wall behind Walter and stood behind the living mortal. If Walter didn't know Alucard for as long as he had, he might have been intimidated by the undead's dark, looming presence. Alucard had a flair for that.
"Master," Alucard said, "things have been too dull and boring of late. Please allow me to find some amusement by sending the police girl and me to Ireland. You know that I can do anything better than your human field agents."
Integra took and released another drag of her cigar as she regarded the most valuable and dangerous weapon of the Hellsing Organization. She was half tempted to send the vampires there, but she was reluctant to do so. Because of her imprisonment in the Tower, it might make controlling Alucard harder.
"No."
"But, Miss Hellsing, you know that any humans that you send on this mission will probably end up dying anyway; simpletons that they are. Why not have the ones that already dead go instead?"
"Are you really that bored, Alucard?"
"There haven't been any serious incidents of undead rising since that episode at the church about two months ago, Sir Integra," Walter confirmed.
She sighed, "Very well. You and the police girl may go." Alucard look almost exuberant at the news. "But only on one condition. Walter, I want you to go with them. You are one of my most trusted people. If nothing else, maybe you can keep a rein on Alucard."
The two men looked at each other and grinned. They were well enough acquainted with each other to know that there shouldn't be any problem with working with each other.
"Well, Angel of Death, looks like we'll be working together again," Alucard said smiling and revealing his vampire fangs.
"Indeed. It does. This should be an interesting venture," Walter concurred.
The two men left Integra wondering if sending the vampires was a good idea. Damn Alucard! The monster was right, but sending Walter will have to compensate any negative effects this might have. He was her most experience agent; experience meaning that he survived whatever mission he was sent on. And Alucard seemed to have at least a smidge of respect for the man, which was a hard thing to get from the vampire. She just had to hope that things turned out all right.
Once the duo were out on the streets, Van Helsing took a map out of one of his many pockets and tried to unfold it without having the wind blow it away.
"Let's see, the nearest crossroad from here...Dammit!!" he groaned as the wind caught at the thin paper and took it for a ride.
"Don't worry about it, Gabe. I've been to Dublin before. The nearest crossroad from here is this way," the beast replied and started walking off with a silent Van Helsing close behind him.
When they reached it neither of them saw anyone except for what appeared to be about three homeless men slumped on the ground. Van Helsing didn't see any fairies, not that he would now what shape they would take, the bartender back in the airport proved that. It wasn't until they were almost on top of the men that they both realized that the ones whom they thought bums were wearing such finery as to make them anything but homeless and the smeared blood barely hid the burns that were raked over their skins. The blood mixed with the dirt and filth of the streets hid the quality of the fabric; and the burns appeared to hurt so much that it seemed easier to lay still than actually move anywhere. Out of the three of them, only one seemed to still be alive.
Van Helsing looked to Hellboy, and then back to the beaten figures on the ground, and then back again. Hellboy nodded, and then went back to trying to light his cigar. Gabriel stepped up to them, then knelt down over the one survivor. His breaths were ragged, and there was a faint sizzling sound from the wounds, as though something in them still burned.
"What happened?" He asked. It was not a shout. It was not a threat. His voice was calm; faeries may have been new to him, but when one hunts monsters the sight of a man or beast on the verge of death was all too common. "Where is the boy?"
The faerie man's eyes focused on him with some effort. "So ye're the one they sent?" He asked, then stopped, taking several breaths before continuing. "Pity ye didn't get here a bit sooner." He smiled, and the teeth were misshapen and crooked. Van Helsing blinked, and then, as if for the first time, noticed the face of the man. Had his ears always been so comically big? Had he always had those tiny eyes?
The fairy didn't seem to notice. "Sorry we don't have the little one for ye." He said. "Ye just missed him."
"Where did he go?" Asked Gabriel. The man did not answer. "Where?!" He said, his voice rising. A couple yards away, Hellboy gave up on his cigar, tossed it to the ground, and began to walk over.
"He can't hear ye, lad." Another voice called, over the wind and from above. Hellboy and Gabriel looked up to see another fair man, perched and leering from the top of a lightpost. "An' even if he did, it'd be little good he'd do for you." He looked down on the bodies. "It's a sad thing to be king of a kingdom, and nothing to be done for its shrinking."
"Shrinking?" Gabriel muttered to himself.
"The Fair Folk are dying out, Gabe. Plain and simple," Hellboy explained. "I think because of their immortality, they can never have any children of their own; so there's no replacing any fairy that gets up and is killed for whatever reason. It's one of the reasons why they take human babies. They like to be able to at least have the experience of rising children."
"How sad and yet pathetic at the same time."
"I couldn't agree more."
"'ey." Said the king. "Vanishin or not, we have our pride." He stood up straight, and did his best to look like a king of some import, not a three- and-a-half-foot little ruler of a smaller domain. "And a blow t' that pride demands another in return." He grinned again. "An' so I'll be telling you a bit more about where your little boy has gone, Gabriel."
"It's an ugly road ye'll be taking." He said. "And ye'll be seeing more than a bit of what's come before, both of ye." He said.
Above them, lightning lit up the sky and seconds later thunder announced the storm's presence to the cowering landlocked creatures below.
"If I were you boys," the faerie king said, "I'd be looking for a better place to spend yer time." He looked up at the clouds, and all the sun could do behind them was make them look like sheets of lead, or iron. "This storm'll be bringing a bit more than drizzle this way, y'know."
Hellboy felt something across his cheek, cold and sharp like a knife. He slapped his hand to his face and pulled it away, expecting to see blood. But only his fingers made the raindrop seem red.
The king nodded. "There'll be plenty more of those." He said, and from somewhere—a pocket, maybe? Did he even have pockets? —he produced an umbrella. "As it's looking like ye're grounded," he said, "I'd suggest ye take cover, the both of ye." He opened the umbrella, and held it high. "Or maybe take it into yer heads to do somethin' about it." He added as his feet lifted from the lightpost and he drifted upwind. "Ye'll have time enough for that, even after ye find the boy."
And with that, he drifted into the sky and vanished. Gabriel stood there, dumbfounded, and looked back to Hellboy. "Is he always like that?" He asked.
"Pretty much." Said Hellboy, and turned to walk further down the street, wondering if he could call a taxi.
Van Helsing followed for a moment, and then paused. II never told him my name./I he thought to himself, spinning to look back. But the post was all that was there; even the bodies, vagrant or fairy, were gone. He sighed, shook his head, and marched on.
Eventually they came to a bar. There was no hesitation as they walked right in and headed straight to the bar. After ordering something warm and very alcoholic, depression and feelings of failure took over they joined the rest of the patrons in bemoaning and wailing at the unfairness of the universe.
But at least in here Hellboy was finally able to light his cigar and be able to enjoy its pleasant flavor. He leisurely released a great puff of smoke and saw the headline of the day's paper out of the corner of his eye. What he read startled him enough to make him cough as he grabbed the paper.
"Hellboy, what is it?" Gabriel asked in surprise and small concern. Hellboy was fully capable of taking care of himself, but what could have caused him to nearly choke on his own cigar smoke?
"Gabe, we've got trouble."
"What?"
"Listen to this: 'Kidnapping Leads to Murder...'"
"'...Authorities Still Have No Suspects.' According to the article, this is about the fourth time that this has happened. And the reporter suspects that all of these are related. It goes on to assume that this 'ring' of children kidnappers may have taken more but none of them have been muddled by murdering any adult that was trying to prevent the kidnapping from taken place until recently. Our sources say that the ones who were murder were done so in a very grisly manner to suggest that the undead might have been involved," Walter concluded as he set the newspaper on the table between himself and his employer.
Sir Integra Wingates Hellsing picked up the paper and scanned the article that Walter had shown her. It was indeed everything that he said it was. Her face took on a thoughtful expression as she lowered the paper and pulled on her cigar. This was very disturbing. Approximately six children, possibly more, were taken from their homes and nothing else was heard about them. There have been no ransom demands and no bodies have been found. Whatever the kidnapper wanted with the children, it had to be a vile thing. And the manner in which the deaths occurred did sound like the Hellsing Organization was needed.
"Walter," she said.
"Yes, Sir Integra?"
"Since we have no clear idea who or what is responsible for this debacle, go ahead and send some of our agents to Ireland to solve the problem. They are also to try to rescue as many of the children as possible and return them to their parents."
"Certainly, Sir Integra," Walter responded.
"Master," a dark, almost seductive voice greeted from the shadows of her cell. Integra sighed and leaned back in her chair.
"What do you want, Alucard?"
The vampire lord emerged from the wall behind Walter and stood behind the living mortal. If Walter didn't know Alucard for as long as he had, he might have been intimidated by the undead's dark, looming presence. Alucard had a flair for that.
"Master," Alucard said, "things have been too dull and boring of late. Please allow me to find some amusement by sending the police girl and me to Ireland. You know that I can do anything better than your human field agents."
Integra took and released another drag of her cigar as she regarded the most valuable and dangerous weapon of the Hellsing Organization. She was half tempted to send the vampires there, but she was reluctant to do so. Because of her imprisonment in the Tower, it might make controlling Alucard harder.
"No."
"But, Miss Hellsing, you know that any humans that you send on this mission will probably end up dying anyway; simpletons that they are. Why not have the ones that already dead go instead?"
"Are you really that bored, Alucard?"
"There haven't been any serious incidents of undead rising since that episode at the church about two months ago, Sir Integra," Walter confirmed.
She sighed, "Very well. You and the police girl may go." Alucard look almost exuberant at the news. "But only on one condition. Walter, I want you to go with them. You are one of my most trusted people. If nothing else, maybe you can keep a rein on Alucard."
The two men looked at each other and grinned. They were well enough acquainted with each other to know that there shouldn't be any problem with working with each other.
"Well, Angel of Death, looks like we'll be working together again," Alucard said smiling and revealing his vampire fangs.
"Indeed. It does. This should be an interesting venture," Walter concurred.
The two men left Integra wondering if sending the vampires was a good idea. Damn Alucard! The monster was right, but sending Walter will have to compensate any negative effects this might have. He was her most experience agent; experience meaning that he survived whatever mission he was sent on. And Alucard seemed to have at least a smidge of respect for the man, which was a hard thing to get from the vampire. She just had to hope that things turned out all right.