Chapter 6
An Enemy
Father?
Professor Broom!?!
A flash of light hits me.
Kroenen walked down the stairs slowly, scraping his sword along the metal, making a terrible whistle that sounds like death.
Professor Broom looks up and takes a deep breath. He speaks and his voice trembles.
"I see the puppet, but where is the puppeteer."
I am standing next to the professor. I use all my force and slam myself into the coffee table. The jarring shock sends me back to my own body.
"NURSE!" I scream and pound on the glass. I hear foot steps but they're too far away. I just witnessed Kroenen's approach; there is no way anyone could get there.
"SOMEONE! Help me, oh God, save him. FIND PROFESSOR BROOM. He's in his library."
The nurse nods, eyes wide, and runs off. I hear her call security. They have to get there in time to save him. I feel myself slide back into the telepathy.
"And the last clue will be left by the late Professor Broom. You raised the child, nurtured him, so in return I will permit you a brief, brief glimpse of the future."
I look at this strange man. He is bald, with a beard, and is wearing a black trench coat. I stand quietly and watch him. He takes father's head in his hand, and I know he is showing him a vision.
I know this because I have done the same thing countless times. But while I take the Professors hand and gently guide him, this man throws him in head first using the brute force of his telepathy.
The Professor stands, eyes wide, in a vision.
The man turns and (impossible!) looks straight at me. He smiles a piranha like grin, and speaks.
"Kroenen, someone is here. Someone else in this room. He is projecting a telepathic image of himself, and for that he has to be within five meters of the figure. Only I have ever stretched it beyond six. Find him."
I stand my ground and smile grimly. This weakling think's he's the most powerful.
"You are going to murder him?"
The character nods, and I shake my head, slowly but surely.
"You will die. I can't save him now, no one can, but you will come to regret your actions today. You have made an enemy more powerful than you know."
I step back, and watch Professor Broom emerge from his vision. The man turns back to him, and replaces his hand on his neck before he fully wakes.
"Your God chooses to remain silent, mine lives within me. Every time I died and crossed over a little more of the master came back with me. He disclosed to me the child's true name. Would you like to know it?"
When the man spoke of his god, his hand crawls, like a tentacle was moving beneath the surface, and a shower of sickly green sparks fell to the floor. I smile quickly. Now I know I am stronger than him.
Professor Broom draws himself up.
"I know what I call him," he murmurs with a quiet dignity and resolve that wrenches at my heart "I call him son."
Rasputin (I know it's him, suddenly) seems slightly disturbed by this answer. I interrupt them.
"Hellboy will never be conquered by you, he has a family now. You'll never turn him."
He shakes his head slightly, and I watch, glad for once that I don't have tear ducts, as Professor Broom takes a cross in his hands.
"I'm ready"
I glare at Rasputin, and interject. "Make it painless, he deserves that much."
Rasputin pretends not to hear me, but speaks to Professor Broom.
"It'll be quick"
I nod, my eyes shut.
I hear the blow, a horrible noise that makes me feel sick to my stomach, and hear a body crumple to the floor. Kroenen leaves the room quickly, wiping off his sword. I am left with Rasputin. He turns to me and raises his hands out in front of him.
"So you say the child will not give in with his family. I suppose the old man was his father?"
I nod once, and prepare myself to leave the vision.
"And you are his brother of sorts, no?"
You could say that. I remain silent, watching him closely.
"Well then, I suppose I'll have to get rid of the rest of his family; starting with you, of course, spy."
He sends a blast of yellow energy out of his hands, and I let it wash over me and through me.
"No. You won't be able to, because you're nothing. A man with a bit of god in him? Your power is all his, and not your own. I know your kind. You use others, a puppet master, or so you think. But one day your god will come out of you and he will crush you and feed on your body. You expect him to make you his right hand of doom? You will die, and I will be there, and you will remember me, and wonder how I knew, and if it was my fault, and you'll dismiss this as the ramblings of a morning child, but you'll have that one little doubt, and you'll be right. And you will go, and no one will remember you as anything other than another petty tyrant, as no one knows of the thousands of others, who lived, and died, and broke things down and courted a force of darkness, using the highs it sent him to kill an old man, and unleash a caged beast, but that he ultimately knew NOTHING" with this I sent a wave of indigo energy over him, rocking him backwards, and draining the energy he had been building up at his fingertips "about. Leave this place now."
He left, and I looked down at myself. My energy has deepened to indigo? Odd. And how did I physically move him.
I snap myself out of the vision, and back into the tank.
I open my eyes and try to keep my powers in check.
Father is dead.
A glass pitcher shatters, the shards flying everywhere.
FATHER is dead.
A table lurches and shakes, as if it had suddenly had a heavy load deposited on it, the legs bending dangerously. The metal splinters and cracks.
Father is DEAD.
All the lights in the building go out with a pop. I hear several shouts of surprise, and I sigh in exasperation. Using my left over anger, I repair the fuses I blew, and write a quick apology note, delicately manipulating the pen in the other room.
Being an indigo power does have its perks.
I curl up in my tube, settling at the bottom and wait for people to find out what happened. Shaking and shivering in a tight mess, I finally fall asleep, surrounded by wires, and wondering how my newfound family is going to survive.