Disclaimer : Hellboy doesn't belong to us and neither does our special guests *^_^*
Rating : M just to be safe because eventually we'll have some scene of violence and because eventually we'll be dealing with mature subject matter.
Oh! and before I forget, this is "talking" and this is 'thinking'
Have a pleasant read and the author notes will follow
Hellboy - A place to belong
Chapter 4
This story actually begins many years ago on a twisted and sinister hill, in a dark and ominous castle. In this grand and scary mansion on top of this tall and lonely hill lived a sad old man. The old man was sad because he didn't...
Actually, this story hasalready been told to a little girl by her grandmother some years ago. But later the very same girl, has now grown up and will have to tell the story of an extraordinary character, in her turn, not to her own granddaughter, no... but to another character just as extraordinary.
So let's skip the dull, uneventful years that follow the first story and transport ourselves sometimes after Hellboy and the others heard the alarm.
It was a dark and stormy night (if you pardon the cliché). The shadow of the castle on the woody hill, illuminated by the silver moon (it's not raining anymore). Most lights were out at this bewitching hour in the community at the bottom of the hill. They lived in fear of the mansion for generations now, never daring to enter the accursed place.
Peoples shiver in fear when glancing at the spooky house. Nobody dared check inside for decades, making the place the bowel of horror stories and macabre legends. Parents tell their children to never go there because the place was ready to crumble and they have heard somewhere that there was an adolescent who died in a collapse some years ago. They don't remember who it was but it doesn't matter, the place is dangerous.
They also told their children that if they climb the hill, the monster that lives there would catch them, cut them up in hundreds of pieces with his monstrous metal claws and feed them to his dogs.
(I must remark here that you notice that most stories parents tell their offspring to scare them are most of the time not approved bymodern pedagogy. They follow the theory that if you tell to young, impressionable and malleable minds a story that would scare the shit out of a veteran of the night shift NYPD officer; they will never do what you tell them not to do.)
Evidently, such stories have given birth to a tradition of various dares and courage tests over the decades. (Proving that parents forget what it's like to be a kid.) But even so, no one dared to cross the wall covered with creepy animal statues and eyes offending gargoyles, which surround the castle. As if some force or primal instinct was driving them away. Those braves or fools enough to go, told of mysterious lights and strange sounds, like ethereal giggles and snipping noises.
For years the situation remained the same. Peoples kept clear of the place and the monsters stayed in the stories. It was so until men with head filled with tales of concrete and profits, rather than tales of ghost and ghouls, stirred what was inside.
Maybe they should not have.
And so, men brought the attention of what was inside on themselves and on the community at the foot of the hills. Like the King in the Sleeping Beauty who woke up after the Princess received a kiss from the Prince that freed her from a century of forced sleep and the King noted that the front lawn got invade with thorns and weeds... He told his Queen it's time to get the gardeners.
The weeds certainly won't like it.
So, the inhabitants of the castle looked at the outside world for a first time in a long while and they didn't like what they saw. They turned toward the owner of the castle, but were met with disinterest and were told he would not do anything. He believed the men would eventually go away on their own.
Frustrated, the rest of the residents decided to take mater into their own hands. They would try to convince the Landlord to help them. In the meantime they began their preparations to do something they haven't done in ages but are nonetheless infamously known for since ancient time.
Under the counsel of the most intrepid and intelligent of them they made a plan.
And it begins tonight.
In the distance, a baby cry, a mother wail.
BPRD, New-Jersey
Plane Hangar bay
The place was crawling with activities like an anthill raided by an anteater. Personnels were prepping the plane for takeoff and loading the equipment for the mission. Florida was too far to make it by garbage truck.
As everyone were fretting to get ready for departure, two black clad gorillas (not actual gorillas) were slacking by the doors. No matter where you work there always some peoples who profit that everyone else is busy to take a breather. And generally when two slackers find themselves in the same vicinity, they tend to flock together and discuss things. Like the weather for example if they are banal or from England. Their last lay if they are macho, or the stock market if they are boring. Or sports, their kids, gossips, movies, music, Oprah, Dr Wayne W. Dyer, etc... Slackers got a lot to talk about. But no matter what kind of slacker you are, everyone still thinks you're an ass and should get back to work like everyone else.
So let's listen in and see what kind of slackers they are.
"...and that's how you get screwed by centaurs! I mean, isn't it obvious?"
... As expected of the BPRD, the norms don't always apply here.
"Yeah, I hear you there; Bill will walk funny for a week."
"Yeah, poor Bill. What did you give in the get well basket? I got him a sexy get well card to cheer him up at the hospital."
"Vaseline"
The other man did not reply, pondering the well meaning behind the gift and how Bill will take it. There is always someone to give an awkward present with all the good will in the world.
"You think the Big Guy, Abe and Liz are going on the mission now they are back?"
"Ah. We're going to have Red and Blue but no Sparky. And Mr. Krauss sit this one out too apparently. It's going to be just like before I tell ya."
"I heard from Steve that he was there when they arrived the other day. It look like that the Big Guy knocked up the missus. She was showing and everything."
"Everyone's talking about it. Must be why they jumped the gun last time."
"Then why did the blue guy had to go as well?"
"Dunno, but I am still glad they came back."
"Yeah..." the other black suit responded, uncertain.
"What's wrong, we're going to have the best paranormal investigator of the place back on the field with us. Going to be a lot safer now"
"Don't know. I mean, it's awkward now, no?" seeing the lack of comprehension on his colleague face he tried to explain. "Ok, it's like this. The guy ditches us and we are on our own. We lost more guys on the field these months than almost... ever before. We failed more of the missions and solved fewer cases too."
"We needed to take their places; it's our job that whether they are here or not. They are the best in this job, it is a pair of pretty big shoe to fill" say the HB group supporter. He really seems to look up to them.
"That's what I mean. Half of the department relied on them. We needed to learn to stand on our own and now we're going back to how it was before. If they quit again, we will have to do it all over again."
"Well, first they don't do all the jobs; we have elite troops that handle other cases. They are no pushover. But the special team can't be everywhere at once. Give us some credit too. If we are put in the same team than them, it means the higher up trust us to back them up. It's important. And I don't think we are going to forget everything. There is a lot of thing that got changed since they've gone."
"You realize that we're just here to escort on the plane do ya? Babysitting job."
"But still important." The other responded not letting go of his argument.
"Yeah, yeah." The first man seems to admit without enthusiasm. "Ok, now look at my point of view. It's like when your wife come back to you after three week of 'break up' and you know she slept with that guy but you don't mention it because you want to make up with her while you resent her to have done that and regret not having slept with another woman because you thought you were doing the right thing, see?" he say in one breath.
His companion seemed to try to make sense of what his friend was saying.
"So... You mean Hellboy slept with someone else than Miss Sherman?" clearly not catching the analogy.
"No. I meant that..."
The conversation cut short as Hellboy and Abe arrived at the end of the corridor. The slackers stood to attention not wanting to be accuse of, well, slacking and waited for them.
"Attention" call Hellboy in monotone and still overlapped all the noise in the room. "All aboard, we liftoff now. Briefing inside. If you don't wanna come, it's now or never to back up." He said glancing briefly at the men-in-black-with-bad-analogy. Hellboy had a really good hearing. Better that most people seem to think. "And if you want to say something, it better be about bringing waffles." He was clearly bothered about skipping lunch. "If not, don't speak. Let's get this show on the road."
Inside the mansion, a tall and slim figure stares at the dark clouds in the day sky through a broken window and shrouding himself in darkness, concealing the detail of his appearance. He did not mind the dark, because there's always some light. When it is day, there the sun and when it is night there the moon and stars. He did not need more.
From the window he could see the town down the hill, his father used to tell him about it. That was before his father went to sleep. After that he was alone.
Many years later, a strange lady came to the castle, she took care of his wounds and ask if he would like to go in town with her; which he did and there he met Her.
He learned he could not live there. It was too dangerous, too confusing, too painful.
He was safe back home and he was going to stay there like She begged him to. To be safe.
Then he was alone again. Sometimes, he wishes he never went down the hill. He was alone before but it did not hurt like it was hurting now. Like yesterday, like today, like tomorrow. Like always.
And after a while other persons came to his house. He did hide but what was strange was that they were hiding too. Then, they came to him. They were different, not like the others down the hill.
They needed a place to live they said, somewhere safe. They asked if it was his house and if they had the permission to stay. He said yes, they could stay. They only wanted to be safe like him. Then more and more peoples came. All different but he did not mind. In payment, they would help to protect and to take care of the place.
They call him the Landlord, which is funny because he wasn't the lord of anything. His father would have told him if he was a lord. They don't think the same way he does, maybe it is because they look different, he observes. But he does not mind. Nobody knows what the other thinks anyway.
And maybe because they were different they would not hurt him. Not like the Others. And so the tenants stayed here. He tought that with so many people around, he would see them more often during the day but at night it was much livelier.
True, a lot of the peoples who stay here only come out at night. Every day, he goes see if they are still here. Most don't approach him. Some do, to play. The others must be scared of him. Like the small kids back when he was down there. They were scared of him too. All those who live here are scared of those who live outside. Those Others, he looks like them, they say, but he does not act like them.
So they leave him by himself. It's strange, there are so many people around but he is often on his own. It is something he does not really understand.
And when he is alone, he remembers. Everything, every single detail. But remembering makes him sad and angry too, sometimes. Like the time when there were even more lights at night than usual down there. Colourful lights. But this 'time' is already past. He will need to wait a whole year before having enough ice in the cold room, and then transport it to his room with the lift. He hopes the lift will hold, it's getting more and more difficult to move it each year. But now he has the help of those who live with him. They say they like seeing what he does with the ice. He did not mind the help but he would like to be on his own when he sculpts the ice. It's the only time he would like to be alone.
Yes, he likes the ice. It's the only material he could use to remember Her properly, to make Her there with him, like She is in his memory. She is down there and he can't go see Her. It's too dangerous. And so he does it every year, here in the room without a ceiling.
Something was different yesterday. Men from down the hill came back. The other tenants said they wanted to do something about them. He did not like it. They asked him to go down there last night to break things, to make the men with the white hat go away. He did not go whit them. He did not want to hurt someone like before. He was so angry back then. He still is when he thinks about that Man. It was to defend himself. To protect Her. The Man was dangerous. There so many dangerous things down there.
The tenants said we had to hurt them before they hurt us. He said no. Perhaps they did not understand pain? No that was not true, they hurt just like he does. That is why they are here. They wanted to scare them away. He did not want to hurt anyone, it's better to hide.
And so they went down the hill to make them go away without him.
Now. The men with the white hat came back again. There was two of them. They couldn't enter, we made sure of that. Just like he thought, scaring them did not work and that is worrying him. He doesn't know what to do now. He knows they will come back again. He will need to talk about the men with Calliban. He knows a lot of things and he's also very wise. He will know what to do.
But the problem is that Calliban is not always around. He can be away for days before he meets with him again.
He also needs to tell Calliban about the cries, he heard them again today. He asked the other tenants about them but they didn't answer or they told him that it's none of his business. But the cries perturb him. He never heard cries around here before.
He could not do anything now. He just hopes to see Calliban soon. He was better to go backoutside and return to work. The yellow flowers are blooming and he needed to look at the dragon. A dragon just like he remembered from the books of his father... Then he will need to see about...
Being busy he forgot the pain... for a while.
Snip!
BPRD Dispatch plane
Somewhere above the U.S.A.
There were three agents on board and thirteen men from the support crew. Normally, they didn't need that much personnel for a mission. Generally an agent and a partner are enough for any jobs. But even then, it was rare that you send so many agents and inspectors together for a mission. Maybe the missions that Abe and Hellboy are on need more personnel generally but even they work solo if necessary. Particularly Hellboy who liked to act like a lone hero.
The Agents were Abe, Hellboy and Mr. Clark, a seasoned BPRD agent with an eye patch on his right eye. He has been around for some years now, staking mission after mission and surviving all of them, making him one of the most experienced human agent the Bureau has. He didn't have a call name like Hellboy (Red), Abe (Blue) and Liz (Sparky) because after he was suggested Cyclops or Kent (Clark Kent aka Superman, duh!) he refused to get any code name. And don't call him Pirate either, or you risk needing an eye patch too.
He favoured the kaki colour militaries uniform of the bureau, complete with a bullet proof vest, a belt with multiple pouches like Hellboy and a coat with the Bureau logo on it. He as dark hair and black eye, a rough and rugged face combine with a tall athletic built made him seem authoritarian, an allure that gave him respect from those under him. But don't let his look scares you; he is a good guy still. He earns respect and he gives respect.
The plane was on scheduleand it was time for the briefing to start and everyone began to make quiet.
Hellboy was the chief of the mission, so he asked Clark to do the briefing. He simply did not want to do it. So the one-eyed agent got up so that everyone could see him and started.
"Ok, everyone listens! We got an urgent situation on our hands. This morning the police of Suburbia received a call from a couple saw their child looking like a monster in mirror. They dismissed it a crank call but the couple kept insisting, so they dispatch a car to the house. You guess what they found? So, they called our guys in Florida and by the time they got there two new changelings were discovered. We may expect more when get there. Note also that all the known abductions took place in a "problematic" neighbourhood: poverty, drugs, violence, negligence, etc., this fit the M.O. of the changelings but..." Noticing a hand raised the back ground "Yes, Miss Rockbell?"
"Umm, sorry Sir but what's the changeling M.O.?" ask the blonde girl with a pony tail.
"Changelings take kids in distress and exchange them with one of their own, either a kid whom they wish to be raise in the human world or one of their elder who want to spend their last year being pampered." Answered a small brunette with glasses.
"Thank you, Miss Schiezka." Said Clark, "We're gonna need to check every kid from zero to sixteen. Take the usual equipment for dealing with fays: mirror, iron, foxglove ... Once in town, we're gonna set up a temporary HQ in the relay van, I want two teams manning it. Mr. Hughes, Miss Schiezka you're first; Miss Ross and Miss Rockbell will relay you after 6 hours."
"Abe, you and Mr. Armstrong, will check the houses that have been hit and review the reports; you can expect full police cooperation." At that they both acknowledged with a curt nod accompanied an illusionary sparkle by Armstrong.
"Mr. Mustang and Miss Hawkeye, Mr. Elric and Mr. Heiderich, you'll go door to door checking on the other children of the neighbourhood." A salute from Hawkeye was all that Clark needed to know that she was going to keep the boys in check.
Turning to the other side of the plane, Clark stared at the smoke cloud engulfing mount Hellboy and hill Jean Havoc. "Hellboy, Mr. Havoc will you cut that out, it's not like we can open a window. You two nicotine addicts, you can 'stick' together." He was answered by the sound of one last puff coming from behind the white curtain and Hellboy used his stone hand to extinguish his cigar and so did Havoc with his cigarette on HB stone hand like it was the most natural thing in the world while unaware of the appendage's owner reproachful gaze.
"So, Hellboy and Havoc, Mr. Kimblee and Mrs. Curtis, King Bradley and I will be combing every nook and cranny for the children."
"Erk, grunt work." mumbled a dissatisfied Kimblee.
"Anything else?" Asked Clark to everyone but keeping his eye on Kimblee.
"No, nothing." Said a suddenly nonchalant Kimblee, who now seemed very interested by the bolts in the fuselage.
Hellboy commended on the side "Hope you all got something to pass the time 'cause we got another 2 hours ride after the flight before we reach town."
"I GOT THE CARD" exclaimed a very enthusiastic Maes Hughes who brought his special deck with the picture of his baby girl on the back of the cards. And in a strange flash of collective consciousness, everybody imagined a future new daddy HB, showing off pictures and telling to everybody who won't listen about the newest exploits of his kid, just like Hughes.
The one that was terrorized the most by this vision was Hellboy.
While everyone was trying to keep busy, Abe found himself unable to concentrate on his book.
'This is worrisome,' he thought, 'Changeling are not known for harming the children under their care. The most peculiar thing about this is not the number of kidnapping but how they all seem to happen at the same time. Usually, these things happens once every few decades, not in a matter of days and surely not hours.
'I know that some areas are more incline to such endeavour from the fair folk, but they're in Europe not Florida. Something must have happen to spring this up, I'm sure Hellboy realized this too.
'And if there are so many children missing, I wonder if some adults have disappeared as well? There's never been anything similar to this in the lore and legends. We must act with caution, I have a feeling there's something more to this.'
Letting out an exasperated sigh he tried to return to his book, 'Beside, it's too early to lose myself in conjecture, I need more facts. I hope were not too late...'
Thousands of miles from the plane, the poor Krauss who was left alone with a young miss O'Neill to his detriment, discovered after a pleasant conversation that the public relation agent was a charm to talk to and it will a breeze for a loquacious person such as himself to work with such a dear. He even gave excuses for the previous behaviour of the red monkey. In his opinion, that peculiar ape did not evolve to the point of manners and etiquette and it was such an embarrassment for the team.
For her part Miss O'Neill also understood from hearing mister Krauss rambles on and on, that even if he seemed on short terms with mister Hellboy, there was also a note of respect and trust toward his coworkers in his echoing and canned voice. The sentiments were faint, but there.
You had to have studied people behaviour like she did to see it, thought.
Dealing with team tensions was going to be part of her job and she had to make sure the public still got a positive opinion of all this. It was getting more and more interesting that by the seconds... Even if she had to work with, like mister Krauss please himself to say, a bonobo who switched banana for nachos.
Now, thousands of miles from the planes, in another direction, a small but extremely violent storm gave all it's fury above a sawmill. The immediate concern for the current event is that the bizarre ultra micro-climate did a butterfly effect toward the town where our protagonist are heading, forwarding the rain that was originally going to fall on the location hours before it was due. Meanwhile, the sawmill after the brutal punishment from the elements collapse and half of the building fell sideway into the river next to it.
Annnnd in another direction, thousand of yadda yaddi yadda at the top of the hill, surrounded by the suburb of Suburbia, there is the same manor that was described earlier in the chapter. I'm not going to repeat every detail to the risk of sounding like a house promoter for vampires.
I mean, the place is shady, decrepit, mysterious and gothic enough that an honest to heart Transylvanian would not see the difference...
When you look at the building, you see an amalgam of style and if you had to classify it, you could say it is a Classico-Gothic Victorian with a touch of baroque. And while you are admiring the architecture, you may remark at the top of one the gables that flourish the sky atop of the mansion mostly caved roof, stood a figure standing on an half demolished frog statue.
Why the architect thought it would be a good idea to put a frog statue here? Not the slightest idea. In fact, there were a lot of animal statues all over the place. So much that you could detect a certain obsession in the pattern.
It is to think someone let loose a serial zoologist sculptor on the property...
Well not that we really know about that. You see it's...
Uh? The figure...? Oh! You mean that figure on top of the gable. He doesn't know either and did not care. In fact he probably disliked the statue.
It had been carved by human you see.
It was the kind of figure that if he would give his opinion, no foolish human could ever hope of capturing the essence of nature in their feeble attempt at what they call art.
And he says a lot for a figure who is absolutely still. But! HE was a figure that could pass for art.
Just not human art.
A certain beauty was captured in the slender profile of the one standing up so high without wavering despite the wind. One could definitely say it was a male figure but because of its petite stature he could easily pass for androgynous. Male, but with a certain finesse to it. His posture had grace, despite being on the short side, like a child or a young adult who has still some growth left.
On his perch he had a formidable view of the town below. He was staring at the sleeping conglomeration with his arms crossed over his chest, a scowl of disgust on his delicate face.
He was Calliban.
He was resident of the manor and not by choice. He is a member of the Third race, more known as 'Fae'. And he's not the kind that you shake to cover yourself with fairy dust to fly with a happy thought toward the Never Land.
The action of shaking individual such as Calliban would only reward with dandruff and the only trip you will make his toward the nearest hospital carrying your own ears in your hat.
He wasn't a tooth fairy either. He's far more sophisticated than those one track mind bug that eat everything in sight. If Calliban would play the tooth fairy, it would be with a pair of pliers and a bucket for collecting.
Calliban wasn't what you would call nice... In fact you better not call him at all.
He was what we call a trickster and a mean one at that. It wasn't the he was always mean toward he others... Well yes but he was particularly aggressive toward humans. He despised everything about them. What they are, what they do, what they create, even what they smelled. The very fact that they existed was an insult to his own existence. If was bad enough that he was now forced to live in such vulgar place, he also had to support it without complaining too much. This house represented all he hated, twisting and perjuring nature, but it was also all he had left.
Oh, he could always go away toward places that humans had yet to destroy or go to some other places where most of his kind lived in big community like the old days.
'Bah! It was only a matter of time before those hairless apes reached those places and ruin everything once more.' He thought.
And he never could socialize with the other court of the Fay. A big bunch of idiots and blowhard, if you asked him. No. He preferred staying with a smaller community of all kind of Fare folk, working together (under his order) to make this place a heaven (a palace just for him). And right under the humans' nose too!
To him, it was bringing the fight right at their doorstep. A battle he plans to win. A war storyteller will spoke of for the next eons. But not a fight with sticks, stone and broken bones (at least not his), but a battle of wits to mess with their heads.
He had been planning for decades now ever since he came to the castle. It is the perfect hiding place and headquarters to launch his attack. He also brought many other of his kind to this refuge since then (a mastermind needs his minions after all). But even so he would not had to, this place attracted Fae like fly to honey.
The only hitch so far is that he had to start the first phase of his plan earlier than he anticipated. Even thought they used magic and subterfuges to scare the neighbours, to make them forget this place and to put it out of every maps but some wretched humans still coveted it. They want to bring down the place to construct a hotel for the traveler of the new road.
Ha! Like they could. By three times now the manor's resident trashed their equipments. By three times the humans had to stop because their "Thecnologie" failed them. And they began to talk that this place his cursed and they shouldn't bother with it.
The last part is also a courtesy of the other lodgers. A nice suggestion in the ears of one there, a bad dream for the one over there and a big fright for the one with the funny white hat. While humans are just as superstitious and easy convince and influence as before, they are quicker to deny what doesn't fit them. Little by little now, those who want to build here will never want to have anything to do with the place.
Stupid humans. But on the fourth time they messed with their big horror of metal something else happened that wasn't part of the plan. The abomination followed them in their mischievous deeds.
"It was to protect them from the outside" he said. Like that monstrosity knew something about the outside world. He didn't even get out of the property in fifty years and now it want to follow us? Why now of all time? That big clumsy meat bag could ruin everything.
And some of the others were happy about it! Those traitorous bastards, half the time they are scared of him and the other half they are grateful he lives here. That horrendous thing lived in the manor way before the Fare folk gathered here. The only thing he did when the Fay arrived was taking care of the garden and... He preferred to not think about it and what he could do with those horrible iron hands of his.
And it did not stop with just his hand, his inside too. That thing was literally filled with iron. So much that no spells or Glamour affected him. The mind, if you could call it that, could not be grasped. It was too foreign, too difficult to feel. The thoughts and feelings were well too guarded and distant for their magic to use.
And the worst is that he acts so innocent all the time! Like a puppy someone kicked. It doesn't act like the monster he is. He didn't try to harm, scare or threaten them at all like he's probably supposed to! At least Calliban would had a good reason to destroy him long ago. But what you could call the house's spirit recognized the thing as its owner and since the Faire folk have to follow some stupid laws, it prevent them to harm him as long as they stay here or if he tryed to harm them. It was so frustrating.
He tried many time to drive him away, but no matter what he did, he couldn't trick or scare him away.
So, Calliban tried to stay clear of his path ever since and observed. And he came to realize something. That walking parody is exactly like the house he inhabits, a pure product of humanity, twisted and evil, made with their "science". But a necessary evil for now.
And now, since he had gone with them on a raid the other Fae began to call him the Protector.
The insult!
It was Him who organized everything, not that mass of flesh and metal.
'Oooooooh... The rage. I can't wait to make him go away. But there always a silver lining on any situations and I just knows what to do to turn this one to his advantage, and it's going to be those smelly humans who will do the dirty work for me', Calliban thought with glee. Now, he just needed to make sure that the dimwitted scarecrow didn't go anywhere near to the wine cellar and then, he will go check on those foolish humans to see what they thought of having their children taken from them and replaced with ugly changelings.
'I can't wait to see those panicked face. Oh, how delightful it is going to be'
Four black vans on the highway took the exit and slowed down as they arrived in the populated area. In the leading vehicles Clark picked up the radio and spoke: "Come in Tucker, come in. Here Clark with Red and Blue plus twelve B asking if red zone is safe for deployment, over!"
"Here Tucker, area secure and clear for deployment. Two new cases discovered since last call. It's a real epidemic out here guys. You need to come at the last site at 285 Elm Street. Over."
"Roger that. ETA twenty minute, over."
"ETA confirmed, over and out"
Without delay the four government issued vans drove toward the suburbs. From the highway the streets spread in all directions like a spider web made of asphalt. What was probably once a really small bundle of home became a bunch, a cluster and somehow finally ended up as a small town glued to the next small town as a part of the nearest metropolis, where a family could find everything it need to live a happy American dream like life.
One of the first thing you passed getting off the highway was a mall, then a movie theatre, you could also find a school, a bank, stores, restaurants and all other kind of urban commodity. Then you get to the residential area.
Even thought the day was well advance and school should be over, there was no kids playing on the streets. And if there was someone out, it was in a hurry to get back inside as quickly as possible. Houses after houses, build in series and almost identical to one another, they stood like silent sentries for the parade of black vans passing through. Every block sported its own model. That way as you go down the main avenue, you can assist at a backward display of the architectural style for nuclear family residence of the last five decades.
So the closer you got to the hill, the older the houses got. And as the older the houses got, the more unkempt the neighbourhood became. Many of the habitations were in need of a fresh coat of paint, and we're not talking about more tags and graffiti. Traces of vandalism could be seen and trash was covering the yellowing lawn in some cases. Some of the homes now got bars at the window rather than flower pots. Abandoned houses were taken over by junkies and squatters.
You go from prep and proper to rough and dirty, where you drive with the windows up and don't stay out after dark, the bad end of the town if you will. And at the center of this cancerous spot on the map, was the Hill.
The motorcade finally came at their destination. Easy to spot, since it was the only house with a police car in front. Thought, in this neighbourhood, it must not be this much out of the place.
The engine did not even began to cool down that Agent Clark was out to greet the BPRD agent and the policeman that were waiting in front of the house. The duo progressed toward the car but the policeman stopped right in his track, his mouth in the vicinity of his socks and kept staring at the sight before him. Like a possum sitting in the middle of the road fixing the red Peterbilt truck coming is way, Hellboy made his entrance.
The policeman finally snapped out of is road kill vision and finally stepped up to the group trying to catch up to the conversation without looking like an easily impressible man out of his element who never saw demons and fishmen. He only managed the first part.
"I am agent Archer," greeted the tall man with dark hair and a tin angular face in a all business like voice, "And this is Lieutenant Falman of the local police district." he continued, pointing to the equally tall middle aged gray hair man to his side, "Agent Clark, agent Hellboy, agent Sapien welcome to Florida"
He started to summarized of the situation without being ask, he probably was used to being in charge himself and expected everyone else to be on the same page as him. That, or today has been long enough and being courteous is the least of his problems. Something must have made him fed up enough to make any boot licking pointless in his mind. Surprising considering the fact that everybody in the Bureau who met Archer agree to say that he is an overbearing white collar that got an ambitious streak a mile wide.
Nerveless he continued: "He is one of the two policemen who confirmed the first case about 24 hours ago. We got contacted by their superior and by the time we made it to the site the number of similar cases in the sector grew exponentially. We ordered the policemen who were dispatched to remain on sites to keep the information from leaking to the media. All the testimony of family have already been taken by other BPRD agents but now our division his stretched thin and we informed the main branch for reinforcement."
"Who else is informed of the operation?" asked Clark.
"The local commissioner and the other usual authorities. By chance we intervene quickly enough before the FBI could barge in on us and claim the cases as kidnapping and make everything even more of a mess than it's already is. Also, someone called a priest for the case in this house. Luckily for us, he is new and he has no idea of what is going on. We managed to calm and stop him from calling his superior. Now, he is confined at the police post for interrogation, so the chance we have interference from the clergy his low. We are in the process of tracing the one who called him. All depositions, communications and reports are in the file."
The local agent took a manila folder out of his jacket and handed it to Hellboy who began to browse the pages with a curious Abe reading above his elbow seeing the shoulder was out of he's reach.
Without interruption Archer continued is own report. "A preliminary swipe of the sector as been done and every spiritual, mystic and occult spots in the region related to Fae, elves, and sprites are being combed as we speak but as I said we don't have enough personnel to cover everything and to keep responding to all the new cases of swapping discovered every half-hours or so. The situation is as contained as possible considering the circumstances. We also have been offered help by the police even if they got their hands as full as ours but you know the stance of the Bureau on the matter of outside help..."
"The less they are involved the better, am I right?" finish Hellboy instead of Archer. "Even after my outing they want to keep a tight lid on everything..." continued Hellboy more for himself.
'The less meddlers the less interferences which mean less chance of a messy rescue if rescue is possible', thought sombrely Hellboy. Now that he was on place, the whole thing began to feel like somebody behind the scene orchestrating everything.
"What we need right now is to find the reasons behind the kidnappings. They don't tend to do it for noting and this kind of neighbourhood lead us to believe that poverty and child abuse are common things here. Those are the most general causes for this kind of exchanges." said Abe.
Hellboy took time to take another look around before continuing. "That is just prejudice. How many cases fit the usual M.O.?"
"According the social workers, the police and federal files; three out of eight." Said Abe not even look up from the files pages.
"Right." drone Archer clearly upset that someone doubted his report, while Hellboy and Clark simply nodded and Lt. Falman was considering himself lucky to be able to follow the conversation.
"Also, there are too many points not adding up. Like the fact that this is a heavily populated area with few natural ground left. So why come this far into human territory when they tend to stay clear from it? This not a newly constructed place either, so we can rules out retaliation for taken territory. For if it was the case it would have been ages ago. And then, there the matter of where the children were taken. There's no large untouched open spaces left to hide and no sighting or bizarre event that would indicate the presence of Fae." continued Abe.
He then pointed an aerial survey photo of the sector found in the folder that Clark was now studying. Spot of colors placed at random on the picture indicated the places of the kidnappings. "If we look at it at a bird eye view on this photo," Abe said taking it for a better view for everyone's "there is no order to the crimes, they don't follow a pattern nor seem to trace any kind of design." Putting the photo back into the folder he carried on. "The amount of times between cases indicates that there were probably more than two 'teams' of kidnaper. And because there is no apparent link between any of the children, we can suppose that they are more interested by the numbers than the kind of children is being taken and this means that every child is at risk of being captured."
"So, it's quantity over quality." said Hellboy trying to lighten up the mood.
Ignoring the comment made by his friend, Abe resumed where he was interrupted, "We already gave order regarding this and teams were send to comb the neighbourhood and to make sure that everybody his who they claim to be."
Now that everyone was on the same page, Hellboy asked Clark to check on the staff and how the preparations were going. Meanwhile Archer suggested proceeding inside to assist with the interrogation of the changeling led by his colleague named Tucker who was waiting for them. While everyone else was going inside, Clark stayed there to oversee the rest of the deployment of the other agent. Abe was about to do the same when he saw the look his pal was giving him with a smirk at the corner of his mouth.
"What?" he ask.
Hellboy stopped looking at him and started walking toward the entrance albeit at a slower pace so that he could have a conversation with Abe. "You missed it, didn't you? The investigations, the mysteries, racking your brain for answers and finding the truth. I guess that means no more hand knitted pyjamas for the babies..." Hellboy said not looking at Abe at all knowing the flat look the fishman was giving him, remembering that within their self-imposed retirement Abe was the one who had the most difficulties to adapt.
Once logging, food and all basic accommodations were taking care of; Abe, the refined mind that he is, began to get bored because of the lack of intellectual stimulations. The telly, as the Brit says, procured little divertissements and after three days of Britain local broadcasts, the normally calm and centered individual almost tossed the tube through the window. It was then that Abe beg Liz to go to town and raid the local library and bookstores, and all was good for a while.
But, because of his reading speed he passed through his favourite books in no time. Then to compensate he began to explore other kind of literatures. All kind of literatures: novel, newspaper, magazine, European comic books, manga, children books, comedies, science-fictions, fantasy, thrillers, mysteries, horror, political, financial, religious, biographies, science, and even bad romances.
Hellboy and Liz began to worries about him when he began sighing like a teenage girl in love when he was reading the last 'Twilight' novel... It was Liz who found a solution in one of the piles of book she brought back for him in the form of an art and craft magazine. What about not just studying a subject but trying it for a change?
Abe was delighted at the prospect and wondered why he did not think of it himself. He was always one to appreciate arts. But the only thing left to do was finding which hobby to pick up. And thus began the "great commotion" as Hellboy called it. Abe tried many, many and many things. All with a varying range of success. Music was a disaster. With his lung/gills air instrument are out of question but his dexterity made marvel for string instruments. The guitar was doable and affordable but... Abe really didn't have a musical ear. Liz swears that even the babies were upset by it. This was just one of the many disasters, like when he tried knitting cloths for the babies.
Abe is a genius, both an accomplished martial artist and marksman but knitting... Let's just say that you could not guess for what species it was made. Hellboy and Liz still used that story from time to time to tease Abe, the latter arguing that the pyjamas would just need a few adjustments.
That's why Abe decided to snub his friend and nose in the air enter the house. Hellboy left out a chuckle. It was good to be back.
'The inside of the house is cleaner than the outside' thought Hellboy. Which made him somewhat guilty about walking on the clean floor with his boots? Months of living alone with Liz and Abe made aware of how time consuming and tiring household chores could be. As time passed he has taken onto himself to do more than his shares of works around the house because he didn't want Liz to strain herself with her pregnancy. It is to be said that he received a scolding when Liz got fed up from the constant pampering and made sure that Hellboy understood that she was pregnant NOT disable.
The group arrived at the room where the captured fay was supposedly held. Beside the fact that the floor was littered with beer cans, it was a typical kid room with all the essentials plus a fair amount of toys. If he trusted the color scheme it was a boy's room and he couldn't help but wonder how his future kid's room will look like when it will be done. He should consult Liz about that.
There Hellboy saw a man from the BPRD, who must be Tucker, looking both tired and bored, watching a little kid sitting on the bed. There was also a policeman named Brosh, if you believed his name tag. He was watching the reflection of the kid with morbid fascination in a hand mirror, his eyes going back and forth from the child to the mirror, still not believing that the two images were of the same thing.
'Oh boy. I feel that this guy will be good for the shrink once we're done. I bet he is going to check every child he comes across with a mirror from now on.', thought the demon.
And he wasn't blaming him. Hellboy remembered the first time he saw the phenomenon, he was also a little paranoid for a while and after that he never left home without a little pocket mirror. But he did not need a mirror to know what the policeman was seeing.
Changelings have the capacity to make people around them see what they want, an ability called glamour. That way they can take on the appearance of anyone or anything as long as they respect a certain range of mass and volume. But it is just an illusion and not a physical transformation. Maybe they developed that ability after they realized they were so ugly. It is like instead off climbing the tree of beauty and being graced at each branch they reached, it is more like someone dropped them from the tallest tree of ugliness there is and they hit every branch on the way down, landing on their face, which did not help either.
Imagine a little squat humanoid, green-brown in color with short limbs and really long fingered hands. A bloated body and a face that is a cross between a bulldog, a goat and a wart afflicted toad and you get the general design for a changeling. A face only a mother could love and only if the mother is blind.
Plus, Hellboy did not need to look in a mirror to confirm that it was not a human kid of three or four years old. Just the way he was acting was enough to tip off anyone. You could see the little kid sitting on the bed, downing a jumbo can of beer like a forty year old alcoholic or a college student at a frat party. That explained the empty crushed cans on the floor. And by the number of them, Hellboy could guess that by now the little turd must be over the line of tipsy and more in the gutter of completely sloshed. The thing was fighting gravity and leaning dangerously over the edge of the bed, having lost his balance to the ale.
Finishing the can in one loud gulp it exclaimed: "Wha' cha loookin at aschowl?" In a slurred voice way too rough for a child, effectively breaking any doubts that this could be an alcoholic kid. "Didch one of yousse puschies broughtch any more beer?*burp*"
Apparently, the ale took it's politeness too.
Archer felt the need to explain. "So far, not any of the capture changelings said anything under interrogation. It looks like they are just old ones who wish to pass the rest of their days in the care of human. What do they take us for? Golden age caretaker? We already have problem taking care of our own old farts!" Letting go of his need to rant, Archer took a breath to calm himself down. Just being in the presence of the pretended child stressed him. He already did this at least five times today.
"No matter the method whether it is by cold iron or alcohol we can't make them tell us where or why all the children are taken. We even used both of them at the same time, like the carrot and the stick if you will, but the little critter was so wasted by the time we finished that he almost choked on the horseshoe. The five of them are more tight lipped than a guy getting all his teeth pulled out."
Turning toward the 'suspect', Archer put on is bad cop persona, (not a big stretch by now, he looked ready to strangle it) and asked, "Are you ready to tell us what you lots are planning or I cut of the beer and bring back the horse shoe or maybe a nice cup of foxgloves herbal tea?"
"Ain't plannin' nothin' *BUURRRRRAARP*" finished the drunk in a throaty belch, the motion somehow making him lean forward on the bed even more. That burp was the leading wagon of the vomit train that followed, splashing on every one shoes and made the room smell like an alley behind a bar.
"Yuurk, tashted likech lash week left-overch."
It was all it took to make Archer loose the rest of his calm. "Why you little...!" he said trying to strangle the child-look-a-like in a fashion not too unlike some popular American cartoon icon. Hellboy put his hand on his shoulder, stopping him from snapping the creature's neck.
"Let's take him to the post. At the rate he absorb alcohol, he's stone cold and won't feel any pain from the iron. Once he's sober again, he may tells us something just to have an aspirin for his hangover. And if not, it's the horseshoe (standard BPRD equipment). He turned toward the other Floridian BPRD agent: "Tucker, put it in the cage and you Falman, you follow me. We're taking a stroll in town."
The grey haired policeman jumped upon hearing his name and knew he had to help the BPRD, but he wished he could be somewhere else. His partner, who was left to lock the place up before going back to the station, gave him a sympathy look. With the night coming, the whole day began to feel more and more like an horror movie and he had a felling that was going to play the part the policeman that goes to check things in the dark only to be the first one to die.
And the old wrinkled monster too drunk to regain its composure was laying on its back muttering: "*cough* *ack* *cough* Thich aint no waych to treat a lady."
Getting the thing inside the cage was bothersome to say the least. Even safely locked inside the cage, which looked like one you use to take your dog on plane (only if the dog was as dangerous as a rabid wolf), the creature kept trashing around and spouting insult that would make a sailor sound like a librarian.
Everyone else was ready to start the search for the missing kids but a small crowd of onlooker had gathered near the house and delayed their departure, for several of the agents helped the few policemen to keep the crowd at bay.
But when you put a gathering of unusual cars, people in funny uniforms and no explanation whatsoever in any neighbourhood and you will attract a curious crowd like sharks are attrated to the smell of blood. People will be people and the people will always like a free show.
The usual ruckus was amplified when Hellboy and Abe got out of the house. They just drowned the noise in their thoughts, having somewhat got used to it. They weren't too worried about the crowd coming close to them, even if you could consider them being celebrities. One, they were the wrong kind of celebrities, and two, when you look like a walking blue fish or being seven feet plus tall and built like a stack of brick, it kind of make peoples give you a wide berth.
However, it was getting hard to ignore the nails on black board like screeching coming Hellboy's way. After browsing his index of known languages, it appeared that someone was trying to banish him. Like a bad re-enactment of the movie 'The Exorcist', it was done with a great deal of 'Vade retro Satana' and patched up with biblical quotations.
Hellboy stopped getting offended by that type of behaviour in the mid-eighties, but it was still annoying. 'Why am I doing this job again?' he thought, 'Oh yeah... I was conned into it.'
He turned to his right to see a small and frail looking grandma who somewhat managed to pass the cordon. It was the classic looking grandma with white hair, bottle end glasses and wrinkles. However this model also came with Parkinson, a rattling denture and a raspy breath. But her posture spoke of fury and determination, her speech of fanatical religious devotion and by looking in her eyes you could see the ember of insanity still burning in her being after it had been doused by senility.
You know. The kind of old relative that you are glad you only had to meet only once or twice a year...
She had made her way through the crowd using her mean looking walker to hack and stomp the forest of tibias and toes in front of hers, nothing short of a large boulder would make her steer off the straight line she was making toward him. Agent Elric can attest for this as he massages his left tibia, while demanding who she was calling a shrimp.
There even a huge wooden crucifix on the front of the walker. The nails that kept the Christ on the cross were replaced by the bolt holding everything in place, like a spiritual bumper for her ride.
The collision seemed imminent and Hellboy, who was staying still in fear of agitating the woman even more (Manning would skin him alive if he were to give a cardiac arrest to some elderly by accident on his first mission after his return), Lt. Falman stepped in front of him to stop the woman as gently as he could, asking her to go back to her home.
Seeing that the potential small crisis was averted and that he could go back to business, Hellboy pinched the bridge of his nose wondering why he thought coming out of the closet to be known to the world was a good idea after all...
His thoughts were stopped once again by the shouting of the old lady. Poor Lt. Falman was doing his best to calm her down and was wondering how such an old bat could be this troublesome.
"... keep telling you. It's the scissor hands demon! He's the one who took the children. He came back to take revenge on us all! I kept telling you sinners! Pray God for their souls because you are now paying for your sins! LOOK! IT being here is proof that he's in league with that scissor hands demon! He came to help him take them all to hell. He is going to cut them all into pieces like before! It's revenge because you sinned against the Lord. How could you, poor sheeps, strayed so far from the path!"
'Hummm... You can hear the exclamation points in her speech.' Though Hellboy. 'Yup, there's a few bats in her bell fray. But what she said... Could it be...'
By now, Falman got reinforcement in the form of the other policeman, Brosh, who brought with him a woman in her mid-forty who was out of breath fore she just ran to get there. She seemed relieved when she saw the old lady. She exclaimed: "Oh miss Esmeralda, there you are, you shouldn't go outside like that without telling me." She gently took the frantic zealot by the shoulder "You didn't even take your coat; you are going to catch a cold." At that the old lady seemed to sag on herself and stopped struggling, still muttering her sermon.
The Nurse said to the police officers: "Oh, I am sorry, just I turned my back a minute and she was gone. Normally she never goes outside unless it is for church. She won't trouble you again. Now, let's go home miss Esme, I'll brew you a nice cup of tea." And they were gone the old lady keeping saying: "...his house. We need to go to his house like before. It's the scissor hands I tell you, it's him..." and the noise from the rest of the crowd drowned the voice. What she said intrigued Hellboy. Maybe it was only the ramble of a less than lucid individual, but sometime the old people remembered things that the general population tended or tried to forget. But still it was just a hunch but he didn't think that asking Miss. Esme would give anything given her earlier reaction. He is going to ask around to see if he can learn anything and if not, he is going to send one of the other teams to talk to the two women. He rejoined the BPRD teams and he gave the go for the search party to begin.
He saw both Abe and agent Armstrong in a van, about to go visit all the places where the changelings were found in the neighbourhood. Armstrong, that giant that he is, was squeezed behind the wheel of the van, looking like an adult in a Fisher Price toy car. Hellboy knew the feeling and gave a nod to the only other guy that he knew who was above 7 feet, got problems with low bearing doors, any cars other than a Hummer and have their cloth made by the same tailor specialized in men with more than thirty-two inches at the shoulders. Being tall and having muscles that have muscles can be problematic at times.
And then he was left with Havoc who was grilling one to fight off the cold and Falman who probably would begin to smoke just to calm his nerve. The darkness had finish to settle and with the sky covered, the only source of light came from the houses and street lights. 'Time to find out what all that was about.'
'WHAT'S THAT THING DOING HERE!' thought a panicked Calliban. He was disguised as a human in the crowd that was gathered in front of one of the houses where they had proceeded with an exchange not too long ago. He had heard about the devil who hunted his own people, the lap dog of those damn humans, Hellboy. The rumours said that he killed prince Nuada when the latter was trying to reawaken the golden army to wage war against those pesky humans. Not that he was sad or angered about the prince, because Calliban always thought that guy had a pole shoved up his ass. But he had the right idea about what to do with humans and had the balls to act upon it!
But there have been no news about Hellboy for a while and now he was here. Could they be going for him next? His plan only had begun and he was nowhere near ready to go against the humans in such way! If he was to battle Hellboy, he would end up as a grease stain on the floor. Was he betrayed? No... No, they could not know about his plan already and his brethren would not betray him that easily, he made sure of their loyalty when he included them in the plan. Then that meant... The fact they were in that house... 'IT MEANS THAT OLD BAT HAS BEEN FOUND OUT ALREADY! IT DID NOT EVEN TAKE TWO FULL DAY AND THAT INCOMPETANT BITCH HAD BEEN CAUGTH! AAAAAARRRRRGH!'
He was surrounded by incompetents and imbeciles. Does that mean the others were already found out too? No matter. They were dead weight anyway. He had the kids in hostage that what is important. He had far less than he hoped for but it would have to be enough. He had already taken into account that the humans would eventually discover the exchange but he did not think that the humans would call Them? 'When was that time when they would cower in fear at the simple mention of us and beg to have back their progeny? Huh? The insolence of them all!' He would make them pay!
Yes... It wasn't too late to modify the plan. Yes, yes, yes. He, Calliban, could turn this to his advantage. They were just a bunch of human running around to find those little monkey they call children. They are so simple minded that it will be a jest to make them dance to his song. And that big red hound of theirs will do the dirty job for him.
He hehe ha he He !
Meanwhile at the castle: Snip! Snip!
Author Note: I AM SO SORRY! I never intended for this chapter to take more than a year to make. And what's worse was that 80% the rough draft was completed long ago but didn't make it on the screen until last December. My work place for last year made it really hard for me to focus on the story and I was away from my co-author most of the time, complicating the work schedule.
We are back and expect the next chapter soon (less than a year this time, I swear)
As for this chapter, you may see that most people on the cast of this chapter were based and named on the character of Fullmetal Alchemist. Don't worry we are simply using them to flesh out the secondary characters and you probably won't see them after this ark. Think of them as cameo and specials guests. Next time we will probably use character from other popular series like Star Trek or Star Gate, anything can do. So in the next ark (in about two or three chapter) you will have to guess from which series they are from.
For the last chapter we add mentioned:
Blue Rajah - Mystery Men
Casey Jones - Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
John McClane – Die Hard 1 to 4
John Rambo – Rambo 1 to 4
Sidney Leach – Hellboy: Blood and Iron
Melinda Irene Gordon - Ghostwisperer
Ace Ventura – Ace Ventura 1 and 2 plus cartoon
Eugene Tackleberry – Police Academy 1 to 7 plus cartoon
Debbie Callahan - Police Academy 1 to 7 plus cartoon
Ernest P. Worrell – Ernest movies
Jax Briggs – Mortal Kombat games and movie 1 and 2
Fox William Mulder – X-Files
And for our first two OC, Dr George Fraiser and Danielle O'Neill, they were both named with the fusion of two characters names from Star Gate-SG1: George Hammond and Janet Fraiser, Daniel Jackson and Jack O'Neill.
Did you guest them right?
For Calliban, we just followed the tradition in the Gargoyles cartoon that fay are named after Shakespeare characters.
See you all next chapter… soon… I hope.