Disclaimer: I don't own any of the original character and never will.....Please don't sue me....

Hellboy's team entered the abandoned warehouse with guns drawn. Hellboy stopped in the entrance, puffing on the stump of a cigar, and surveyed the playing field.

The warehouse itself was huge. Its dark, dank walls housed thousands of boxes and wooden crates, all lined up in misshapen rows. The effect was a hell for an search and destroy force like them; the high stacked crates created a honeycomb effect. One could get lost too easily.

"Red, this place is too big to search as one team," said Myers.

"Right...Myers, Robertson, start searching the left side of the warehouse. Clay, you come with me"

Hellboy watched Myers lead Robertson through the rows of crates before turning around and proceeding the other way. A few yards into the crate forest, the lighting near the entrance began to wane in the inky blackness of the building. Clay turned on his flashlight to help penetrate the darkness. Hellboy used his own natural night vision to navigate.

"Hey Red, you anything?"

"No, nothing"

As he walked farther into the catacomb, Clay's ears picked up a small sound.

"You hear that?" he asked

"Yeah."

The noise was barely audible; a rhythmic sucking sound, just beyond the walls of crates.

Exploring further, the beam of Clay's flashlight fixated on the source of the sound. It was one of the missing agents. He lay on the floor, his chest a bloody mess; the sucking noise was a product of a punctured lung, as the man tried desperately to breathe. Laying next to him was the second agent. He showed no signs of life as he lay on the concrete floor, broken like a rag doll.

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Agents Myers and Robertson found themselves engulfed in the same darkness with only their flashlights for aid. Traversing the warehouse proved to be harder than expected. After a good ten minutes, the team had seen nothing and had already navigated more twists, turns, and dead ends than they could count.

As they turned a corner, Robertson halted and place a restraining hand on Myers, silently telling him not to move.

John Myers' gaze swiveled up into the rafters, where Agent Robertson's light shone. He saw what had caught Robertson's attention. A black shadow, very still among the beams and support of the old warehouse, was watching them.

Robertson raised his gun to aim, but the shadow picked up the movement and darted away so quickly it as if it were never there.

The two agents gave chase immediately, searching the rafters and crate walls with their flashlights. Myers slowed, letting Robertson go ahead of him to continue the pursuit, while he contacted Hellboy on his two-way radio.

"Red, this is Myers, we've got a sighting. I repeat, we have a sighting."

There was static then a gruff 'I'm on my way' from the other end. Myers look up; Robertson was out of sight.

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Robertson found himself at another dead end with no sign of the quarry. He tried to remember how may turns he had taken after leaving Myers. Robertson passed his flashlight beam down the dark row and saw nothing familiar. While passing his light over a far wall of crates, his eye caught a slight movement. With quickened breathe he raised his gun. He wasn't alone.

Trying to catch up to the creatures movements, Robertson circled franticly, passing his light over the walls and rafters. Then a noise; a soft thump a few feet behind him. He turned around in a panic, but nothing was there. As he lower his gun a hot breath on his neck told him that he had made a fatal mistake.

He shouldn't have turned around.

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"Robertson....Robertson, do you copy?"

Myers jogged through the warehouse maze, trying to catch up to his partner.

"Damn it, Robertson, where the hell are you?!"

As Myers cut a corner his foot caught on a heavy object on the ground, sending him careening to the floor. A feeling of dread fell upon him as he landed in sticky puddle. Shining his flashlight behind him, he saw that what he'd tripped over were the shredded remnants of his comrade, and the liquid he was laying in was Robertson's congealing blood.

Myers felt the bile rise in his throat. Pulling himself up into a sitting position, he shone his light down the row. What he saw made him forget about the corpse in the middle of the floor.

It sat, crouched on all fours, not five feet away, as still as granite in the wake of the flashlight's beam. Myers first insane thought was that it was a feline escaped from the zoo, but its sheer size forced him to realize what was really there. It was massive, with paws the size of dinner plates, and was easily 9 feet long. The creature was covered in a thick yellow fur, and was spotted from the top of its head to the tip of its tale. Its body was structured to put its weight onto its hind legs and stand like a human, and the digits on its front paws were elongated to grasp prey or objects. But while its body looked like a cross between man and beast, its head kept the feral wildness of a big cat.

It whiskers twitched as it shook off the surprise of the light. Bearing its fangs it resumed its hunt. It took soundless steps as it moved past the gore on the floor toward Myers. Myers raised his gun in a panic and pulled the trigger.

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

The fiend jumped sideways, dodging Myers fire and lowered its ears and emitted a feral growl.

Knowing it would take too long to reload, Myers dropped his gun and searched for another weapon on the floor of the warehouse. In the darkness, his hand wrapped around the cool steel of a pipe. Just as the monster lunged, Myers swung, hitting the man-beast across the jaw. He stumbled to his feet as the monster recovered. He swung the pipe at the creature again, but it raised up and grabbed the pipe in its paw, ripping it out of his grasp, and throwing it out of Myers' reach.

Backing him into a corner, the monster readied itself for the kill, sitting back on its haunches, eager to pounce. Myers closed his eyes, not wanting to see the monster's maw as it ripped out his gut. He waited for what seemed like an eternity, but the pain never came. He opened an eye to find the creature looking at something of in the darkness.

"Hey now, your a pretty big kitty aren't you?"

It was Hellboy, walking up to confront the beast. The creature turned away from Myers and stalked towards Hellboy, teeth bared.

"That's right Fluffy. Show me what you got."

The beast lunged; Hellboy dodged to the right and delivered a blow the beast's side with his stone fist. The impact knocked the creature into a crate wall, demolishing the barrier into a sea of splinters.

The beast shook itself out of the pile of wood and stood shakily. Blood dripped down the beast's fur in rivulets, spilling onto the floor. A large piece of shattered board was embedded deep in its abdomen.

Hellboy chuckled. The rest of the fight was going to be too easy.

"Do you give up yet?"

In answer, the beast grasped the wooden spike and ripped it from its belly.

"Well, I gotta admit, you've got spunk," said Hellboy as he raised his right fist, "but it's lights out for you."

Before the monster could react, Hellboy slammed his right fist into its head. The creature sailed back into the slivers of wood of the busted crates, out cold.

"You alright kid?" Hellboy asked, walking over to help Myers up.

Myers nodded dumbly looking over at the creature who had nearly eaten him alive.

"Well, that's all she wrote," said Hellboy, cocking back the hammer of the Samaritan.

Hellboy turned to finish the job but stopped in confusion. Where the monster he was about to vanquish should have lied, was instead a young girl, naked and caked in blood.