Author's note: Again, most of the credit goes to NightSlash, I just wrote what he told me too. So give him due in the reviews. And please review. I don't think I need to say why, but just in case you forgot, they really, really matter to writers. Thank you. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. They belong to either Stephen Sommers and Universal, Sony Pictures and whoever does the Hellboy comics, or NightSlash. Please, do not sue me, I mean no copyright infringement or harm or whatever. Savvy?
Gabriel Van Helsing hated his job. Mostly because of the places he kept having to work in. Like sewers. Especially the sewers in big cities. New York probably had the worst sewers in the United States, but New Jersey's cities had some pretty bad sewers too.
He turned down another tunnel, kicking away a few rats, his run raised and ready to shoot. He heard something, a crawling sound, like claws scraping against the sewer floor. Or wall.
Whatever creature he had followed down here, it was pure evil, Gabriel could tell that. Evil and most likely incredibly hard to kill. They stronger the evil was, the harder it was to kill usually. Except in the case of serial killers. But Gabriel didn't deal with those.
The sound of a growl made Gabriel turn down a tunnel at his right. He looked around, eyes squinting as he tried to see. The tunnel was darker, farther away from the busy streets and sunlight.
Suddenly Gabriel heard something breathing, then drop behind him and he turned to find himself facing a huge demon on all fours, greenish skin and dreadlock like tentacles hanging from it's head. It's maw opened and Gabriel took the opening, shooting into it's throat.
The demon yowled and swiped at him, knocking him into the wall. It then turned and started to run down another tunnel.
"Oh, no you don't," Gabriel muttered and ran after it, shooting and pulling out one of his Tojo blades. He pushed himself to run faster, despite the pain he was in. The demon was incredibly strong, and the blow had hurt like rip. The impact with the wall had nearly knocked him out. But he wasn't about to let this monster get away.
Gabriel turned down another tunnel and smirked. Dead end. Either the monster was as new to the layout as he was, or it had panicked and let itself get lost. It really didn't matter, as long as he had it trapped.
Immediately raising his gun, he charged and shot at the thing, wincing slightly as it reared up on its hind legs, opening its mouth wide and roaring. Gabriel kept running toward it, reaching it before it could come back down. He slashed at its stomach with the blade, then the head and the side. It howled in pain, and Gabriel moved to the side, avoiding the massive body as it collapsed to the ground.
Panting slightly, Gabriel decided to be sure and he again slashed and cut up the creature, finally stopping at it started to disintegrate.
Panting and wincing in pain, he walked off, trying to find his way back up to the world above. He really, really wanted to take a shower.
Mortals were boring. Incredibly boring. And their stores were so lifeless and bland. Provided no entertainment at all practically. Though, the vide cameras were fun. Raghnall stuck his tongue out at the lot of them, smirking at his image on the TV. He waved his hands around, swirling his fingers as if conjuring some dark spirit.
After a few minutes though, the cameras became boring. Even watching himself was getting boring, when he wasn't doing something extraordinary in the eyes of mortals. He wanted to watch himself strike fear in the pathetic weaklings' hearts, massacre everyone in the building and savor the look of terror in their eyes without even breaking a sweat.
But, according to Baal, he had to wait a little while. Why he was obeying Baal, Raghnall was still unsure of. Raghnall really wasn't interested in world domination. Too much responsibility. He liked having mortals around, and he liked letting them have their illusion of control.
It made it all the more fun to play with their minds.
Raghnall sighed. This was boring now. Then he grinned, getting an idea. A wicked one, if he did say so himself. Snapping his fingers, he watched as the cameras simultaneously sparked and shorted out, his image on the TV screen fading to black.
Baal had said not to display power. Well, that could not be considered a display of power. It took no power to do that, and he was hardly displaying it.
Walking off, Raghnall whistled an old, Irish tune, smirking to himself. His smirk grew at the sounds of confusion and fear behind him, employees struggling to find and fix the problem. He glanced back briefly, eyes twinkling with sadistic glee.
Oh, yes. It was so much more fun to play with people's minds when they thought they were in control.
Raghnall strode out of the store, walking down the sidewalk, ignoring the traffic and other people around him. He turned down an alley, walking past a bar. About five punk biker types walked out, dizzy and unable to even focus their eyes well.
They were drunk. Humans were even more annoying, and often hysterical, when they were drunk.
The biggest one noticed Raghnall, and sneered in contempt. "Yo, look at this loser. Dressing like some sort of fairy," the brute muttered with a slur. The others laughed behind him, almost losing their balance from the sudden outburst.
While the bikers were laughing, they failed to notice the crackle in the air, or the way it suddenly got so quiet, no wind, no birds. No traffic. It was as if suddenly, with their insult, all of nature and the human world had fled from the warlock's wrath.
Raghnall grinned, spreading his hands at his sides slightly. His grinned widened as the bikers suddenly stopped laughing, looking around in confusion and then staring at Raghnall with apprehension. His eyes flickered over to a nearby car. Then back to the lead biker.
Within seconds, the door from the driver's side was yanked off by some unseen force, slamming into the lead biker and pinning him into the brick wall of the bar, crushing his body in a most uncomfortable position. The sight of his eyes hanging from their sockets and blood gushing from countless places made one of the bikers gag before running off with theirs, all of them screaming like little girls.
Whistling yet again, Raghnall turned and walked off, the sound and wind returning to the alley as he did. None of the people at the bar even noticed him walking away as they came out to see what had made the horrible noise.
Nobody noticed the oddly dressed man whistling and smirking at the sounds of screams and vomiting.
Baal entered his bedchamber angrily, glaring at the female in his bed, along with the now dead male body. He stormed over, grabbing the corpse and walking over to the window. He ignored the hiss from Desdemona and opened the window, throwing the corpse out and turning back to the bed.
"I seem to forget giving you permission to use my bed to feed your lust," Baal said as he approached the scantily clad succubus lying amidst his sheets. "Oh, yes. That's because I never gave you permission to do so."
Desdemona shrugged and slide off, slowly walking up to Baal, her hips swaying ever so slightly. Her reddish hair, almost crimson, Baal often thought, hung down around her beautifully cruel face. She smiled up at him, her eyes still filled with lust.
"I was bored, and you were gone for quite some time," she replied softly. She walked back over to the bed, crawling back into it, lying down on her side. She smiled, the expression snakelike somehow.
Baal was in no mood for her games or her desires. He had business to conduct. "Where's the warlock?" he asked, voice clipped and dark, like a warning, but the succubus never heeded threats.
Shrugging, she laid back. "Raghnall went out for some fun. I don't know where," she added, before rising up to a sitting position, slowly reaching up and sliding off the straps of her flimsy dress. "Why not have some fun before he gets back?"
Baal smirked and walked to the bed, leaning over until he was practically kissing her. "My dear, with you, I can never have fun." He stood back up and walked out. "Get dressed and get out of my bed immediately.
Desdemona glanced up from where she was lying on a plush sofa in one of the many rooms of Baal's estate as the doors flew open and a moment later, Raghnall strode through the entrance. She glowered slightly at the self-satisfied smirk on the warlock's face.
"Why are you in such a good mood?" she asked with a slight hiss.
Raghnall glanced over at her, pausing. His smirk grew and he walked a few steps closer. "I had some fun. Obviously, Baal didn't agree with your idea of fun, or else you would have that afterglow or whatever mortals call it. Instead, you're more sour than a lemon."
"Silence, warlock. I do not care how powerful you imagine you are, remember this," she hissed, her eyes narrowing with contempt and scorn. "You were born a human, a frail mortal like those you kill to amuse yourself. I was not."
Smirking, Raghnall leaned over close. "You don't scare me, Bitch." He stood and walked off. He knocked on Baal's door and yelled loudly, "I took care of Sammael, your evilness." He then walked off, ignoring the sound of something breakable hitting the door. "You should learn to control your temper, Desdemona."
With a glare and a pout, Desdemona sat back and tried to make herself calm down. She bit her lip when she heard Raghnall restore the vase she had thrown. She did let out a soft growl when he chuckled to himself and whistled that infernal tune of his.
Marishka woke to a strange coolness. She opened her eyes, realizing why she felt so much cooler. She sat up, looking for Velkan, but he was not just missing from the bed. He was gone from the bedroom. She slide out of bed, her eyes focusing on the open window as the sound of light traffic met her eyes.
He was on the roof again.
Quickly dressing in a simple white nightgown, Marishka walked over to the window and changed into harpy form, leaping out, her wings spreading before she could fall. She flew up to the roof, landing beside Velkan, changing back to human form.
"The nightmare still bothering you?" she asked softly, walking up to him. She could tell he was edgy, he was fully dressed, all the way down to his boots and black duster. She placed her hand on his shoulder, looking up at him.
He glanced at her. "No, it's not just that. There's a chill in the wind tonight. A strange scent," he tried to explain to her. He looked around. "You see how clear it is, how clam the wind is, how quiet even the city has become?"
Marishka nodded. "Like a calm before a storm," she whispered.
Velkan looked straight at her, eyes haunted. "No, like the calm before the storm. Something is coming." He turned to her, pulling her to him and kissing her softly. He broke the kiss a moment later, kissing her forehead.
"You do not need to worry, Velkan. We have survived everything, and we will survive whatever is approaching," Marishka assured her mate. She reached up, brushing his hair away from his face, smiling.
He nodded, managing a smiles as well. "I'm sure you're right."