Weeeee! I finally updated (writer's block is such an evil thing...)! K...well, I hope it was worth the wait.
Enjoy!
--Titan

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The next day, after spending the rest of the night in the infirmary, I was shown around the rest of the BPRD. I was introduced to many FBI agents, including Agent Clay, who's hair plugs had finally filled in.

Hellboy noticed me staring at Agent Clay's plugs. Teasingly, he leaned down and whispered, "It used to look like doll's hair." My hand flew to my mouth, trying to stifle my laughter by biting my fist. This did nothing, though, for the burns on my knuckles. I yelped and waved my hand dramatically rapidly and danced around in a cirlce to try to ease the pain. This had caught everyone's attention, though, and it was Hellboy's turn to stifle a laugh.

I felt heat rise to my face for causing such a scene. Clenching my fists, I wished with all my heart that I was anywhere but here. A sudden wave of nausea hit me, and I swayed slightly. I tried blinking a few times, trying to steady myself and the swaying, unfocused image of the BPRD members staring at me with concerned looks in their eyes. Feeling a falling sensation in the pit of my stomach, I noticed I was being separated from my body.

My astral self had left the bewildered Bureau with my unconscious body, which had just keeled over backwards onto the concrete floor.

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I opened my eyes to find myself in my old apartment, standing right behind Mr. Oldman's 'cable' (yah, right—cable has more than four channels) guy, Larry.

I astral projected! Awesome!……..no, wait. Not awesome! I shouldn't even be here! :o

Oh, CRAP!

Larry turned around to my direction. Quickly, I circled around him so I was still behind the redneck TV repairman. "I got 'r dun, Eugene. She should be workin' fine nah(now) (translation: The television has been repaired as you have requested, and I did as much as I could with the minimum amount of payment that you have given me.)."

"Good. Now GO!" I heard Mr. Oldman's gruff voice from his room across the rickety hallway.

Larry didn't say anything as he moved to gather up his tools. Quickly, I rushed and dove behind a couch that was falling apart. How do I get back? Five minutes after I heard the door close and not hearing any other sounds in the room, I stood up and tried the first idea that popped into my head. I shut my eyes and mumbled to myself, "There's no place like home, there's no place like home…" It suddenly popped into my head that I didn't really have a permanent home as of yet. I tried something else, "There's no place like the BPRD, there's no place like the BPRD…" The dull thudding of my scuffed combat boots being 'tapped' together brought me back to my senses. "Geez, at least I don't have an Auntie M." I mumbled, rolling my eyes at my stupidity.

A good thing I noticed, though, was my impeccable psychic perception. I was aware of every living thing in the apartment. I knew Mr. Oldman lived alone in his own shabby room, but inside, I felt such sinister darkness that it made me shudder. There were three presences in the room; one was scared for their life, one was feeling glee at the other's distress, and the last was feeling such utter, raw fury that it made me feel like cowering like the first.

Well, the first is old Oldman, that I know for sure, but…carefully, I walked to Mr. O's door, using my telekinesis to try to avoid the squeaking boards. Curiosity overcame me to discover who the other two were as I kneeled down next to Mr. O's door and listened.

"You LET her GO!" I heard Russian accent through the door. The glee that I felt in him before had almost completely melted away. "My master made you a deal. We paid our half, and we foolishly believed you would hold up yours. How hard is it to keep a scrawny teenager in one of your rooms?"

I then heard Mr. O's voice, now higher pitched than I have ever heard from a grown man. "Well….she didn't like the livin' cunditions….." I had an eerie suspicion they were talking about…(gulp)…me.

"SHUT UP!" This was not the Russian man, or Mr. O. This voice surely didn't belong to anything natural in this dimension. This voice was indescribable in words—any word that was a synonym for 'sinister' was beyond a complete understatement. I wrapped my astral arms around myself to comfort the shudders and chills in my body (I didn't know if my physical body was reacting the same way). I shut my eyes tight, opening my mouth for a silent scream—this creature had such darkness that it took my voice away from even the declaration of such horror. Please, let me go back!

"Alright! It was that kid's friends! She's a member of some kinda cult, or something!"

The Russian man's anger was cooling, "What do you mean?"

Mr. O sounded breathless, "One of her friends…. big…'n red….He made me let her go!"

The Russian man mumbled something I could barely make out, "Anung-un-Rama…my son, you're here?"

Wait…Mr. O was talking about Hellboy…who is the Russian guy talking about?

"Grigori, hold on, my loyal servant. I believe someone is spying on us…" I heard the 'sinister' creature's voice again. I heard steps coming towards the door. Again, I shut my eyes tight, LET ME GO BACK! PLEASE!

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Back at the BPRD…

"Evan….Eeevannn.." Hellboy squatted down to the floor—the agents hadn't moved my body anywhere. He roughly tapped my forehead, only making my head loll to the side. "Hey! Kid! No time to be sleeping."

"Well," Abe said, "This is quite a predicament."

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K. Hope you liked it! R&R please, I love hearing what you guys think!
-- ;) Titan