Author's note: Here's the prologue for the story NightSlash and I are working on. Be sure to give him credit in the reviews, which I must ask for, as we writers like getting reviews. Anyway, enjoy, and word of warning: There is a rather gruesome scene at the end of this. Ok, I'm done. Review.
Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine. They belong to either Stephen Sommers and Universal, Sony pictures and whoever has the rights to Hellboy, or NightSlash. Please do not sue me. Savvy?
Hellboy sat at his father's desk, looking through the pages of an old manuscript, the words all in Latin. It spoke of different myths, demons and gods. Of werewolves, vampires, succubus, incubus, many other creatures that had become nothing but one-dimensional characters in campy horror movies.
But they were just some of the creatures Hellboy had to face regularly.
He continued to read through the pages, studying some of the older myths of the origins of such beings. His father had been fascinated and horrified by such things, all at once. But he had gathered all this knowledge and taught it to Hellboy and Abe, training them to fight these creatures.
"HB?" came a familiar, soft voice.
Hellboy looked up to see Liz walking into the shadowy room. He had left many of the lamps off, except the one closest to the desk. He closed the manuscript, smiling at her, feeling a familiar lump in his throat. He still got it when he saw her. Even if it was no longer a one-sided crush.
Liz walked over to him, returning the smile. "HB, what are you doing up so late?" she asked as she sat down near the desk.
"I couldn't sleep, I thought I'd come here and read," Hellboy replied.
Liz nodded. "I heard you walking through the hallway," she said, giving her reason for being up. "And when I didn't hear you come back through after a while, I decided to get up and see what was wrong." She stood up and walked over, kissing Hellboy's cheek softly. "Get some sleep, HB."
Hellboy nodded, smiling up at her with a shrug. "I'll be fine. I'll go back in a few minutes, I just want to finish this book," he assured her.
"Ok," Liz replied and turned away, walking back out of the library. Hellboy watched her go, feeling that familiar longing in his chest. Once she was gone, he looked back down at the page he was on, telling of a Vampiric creature that caused havoc in Macedonia.
The wolf was vicious, without mercy, tearing through delicate flesh and crushing small bones. The smell of blood hung in the air around the large predator, almost tangible. The wolf let out a roar, loud and echoing through the halls of the estate it was in.
His estate. No, not his, the human he was when the full moon's light did shone unhidden.
Amber eyes looked down at the shredded body at the wolf's feet. Clouds swept over the moon, and the wolf howled as he started to weaken and shift, growing small, fur falling to the floor as tan skin was exposed. Amber eyes turned back to green and the howl became a human cry of pain.
Velkan looked down at the corpse, blood pooling around his feet and the body. The gypsy prince screamed in rage and sorrow when he saw the wide eyes frozen in fear and the face, left untouched by the monster inside him.
"NO!" Velkan shouted as he sat up abruptly, panting and sweating as he sat in bed, finally relaxing as he realized it was just a dream. Always, just a dream. He hadn't killed his sister. It had just been the fear that had plagued him since his turning. A fear that he no longer had any reason for, except in his dreams.
A soft, cool hand touched his shoulder lightly, and Velkan turned. "Was it the same nightmare tonight?" Marishka asked him as she sat up as well.
Velkan nodded, closing his eyes and signing. "Yes. Always that dream," he said softly.
Marishka stroked his face soothingly, wrapping her arms around him and kissing his shoulder gently. "It is all right, my love, you did not harm her. You have not harmed any innocent," she whispered comfortingly.
Sighing softly, Velkan turned his head toward her, reaching up with one hand and cupping her face. He pulled her closer, kissing her fiercely, wrapping his arms around her as she returned the kiss with a soft moan.
Marishka pressed herself closer to him, her head falling back when Velkan kissed down her jaw and neck, suckling her jugular and nipping at it teasingly.
"Velkan," she whispered breathily, pushing him back down and kissing him passionately. She ran her cool hands down his almost feverish body, nails raking over his chest.
With a grin, Velkan rolled them both over, settling down on top of her, holding most of his weight with his arms at each side of her. He kissed her again, her moans and the feel of her limbs clinging to him sending the visions from the nightmares far from his mind.
It was raining so loudly above them. Samantha hated the sound of it on the glass, it made her cringe. She was bored too. She didn't understand why Daddy made her come with him to such a boring show. It was just old junk, with a few pretty, shiny things.
The long sword was shiny and pretty, but it was hardly enough distraction to the six year old. She kept looking up at the skylight, cringing at the sound of the rain. She pulled at her father's coat, she had been quiet and good and still for long enough.
"Daddy, please, let's go home," Samantha pleaded, staring up at her father with a pout and sad eyes. "I want to go home, I don't like it here," she continued.
Her father sighed and nodded, smiling down at the little girl. The sound of liquid dropping into liquid distracted him for a moment, and he looked up in time to see a drop of rain fall into his coffee cup. He raised his head to look at the skylight, just as it cracked and the glass broke, crashing down.
Glass, rain, and a man in black clothing fell to the floor, the man quickly standing up and pulling out two, long, thin, shiny things and running them through Samantha's father.
Samantha watched, wide-eyed and terrified as her father's coffee cup fell to the ground, spilling the dark liquid all over the floor. Then another dark liquid, red this time, started to pool around her father as he joined the cup, eyes open and blank, staring right at Samantha.
The little girl screamed and stared up at the dark stranger, seeing only a black mask instead of a face, like something fm a nightmare. The masked man glanced at her, then looked up as two guard entered, people screaming and running out.
Samantha kneeled down by her father, poking him and then shaking him. "Daddy! Daddy!" she kept crying over and over, sobbing as he kept staring at her blankly. She looked up, seeing the masked man get shot by the guards, then another man dropping from the window, wearing dark clothes as well but no scary mask.
The new stranger lunged at the guards, ripping their throats. Samantha clutched her father tightly as she heard the guards make gurgling noises and clutch at their throats, falling to the floor just like her father had. She tried not to cry so loudly, she didn't want the men to hear her. She didn't want the men to hurt her.
The masked man starting walking to the shiny sword, slashing his two, no longer shiny swords at everyone near him, the other man tearing into people as they screamed and tried to get away.
Samantha saw her chance, the two men were busy with the others, and they were far away from her. She kissed her daddy one last time, crying softly, and then ran as fast as her legs could take her, running for the exit, panting with fear.
But as Samantha reached the door, another dark clad man came in, opening it and walking in slowly, head high. He was wearing a dark coat, and dark shirt that exposed his neck. Samantha, for some reason, remembered her mommy saying it was never good to expose your neck when it was raining and cold, but this man looked like he was comfortable in the cold air.
The new stranger stared down at her as she skidded to halt in front of him. Her eyes were wide with fear and she was trembling. But he didn't strike at her, didn't have anything shiny, no weapon. He merely crouched down, stroking her cheek gently, smiling at her.
Samantha knew she wasn't supposed to let strangers do that. But he was nice. Calming. He made her feel safe even with all the screams behind her, even with her daddy dead behind her, even with the two mean strangers behind her.
"Run home," the stranger said in a soothing voice. It was like a lullaby, soothing and calming, making Samantha feel even safer. "This is no place for a child," he told her, and stood.
Samantha nodded and ran out the door obediently, running down the street, running until someone saw her and stopped her, asking her what was wrong.
Baal watched her go, then turned and strode through the chaos surrounding him, striding straight up to the sword on the auction table. Amazingly, the auctioneer hadn't run with the others. He seemed to be frozen in shocked. As Baal neared, he grabbed the man's wrist, throwing him out of the way with extreme force.
The man screamed in pain as he was flung aside. His arm still in Baal's grasp. Baal glanced over and let go, shrugging. He walked up to the table, staring down at the sword.
It was long and sheathed. At the end of the handle was a circle and two, claw, reptilian fingers holding it. At the base, a similar thing, two fingers, identical except slightly larger, point straight out. The handle itself was like the skin of a reptile, green and with a scaled texture.
Picking it up with a soft smile, Baal unsheathed it, twirling it in his fingers, switching it from hand to hand. He sheathed it again and started walking back out. "Kroenen, Rafe, hurry and finish. We don't want too many witnesses yet."