All characters are either the property of Marvel Comics or Mike Mignola. I own nothing, I was just having some fun with the idea that Hellboy's greatest enemy happened to be an ancestor of Illyana (and Piotr) Rasputin. Written as part of the 2007 Livewire World Writing Competition.


Dreary, rainy Scotland.

He'd had enough of this country. He'd seen enough tartan, heard enough rough burred speech.

He knew he wasn't being fair; he didn't care. He knew what he really hated was this town – the town of his birth, East Bromwich.

"Tell me again what the hell I'm doin' here?" he spoke aloud, peering down at the burned out church in the distance.

A voice buzzed in his earpiece, "Red, your mission…"

"…should I choose to accept it…" he growled.

"…is to investigate an alleged uprising of Thule cultists in the area. That they've focused on this particular locale would suggest that whatever is happening is connected to you." The sense of Hellboy's amphibious compatriot's frustration was clear in his crisp enuciation. Abe Sapien continued, "And also why you should have backup."

"Good thing I have it, then," the large man said, pulling an obscenely large handgun from his trenchcoat. "Me and the Samaritan are all the team I need."

He looked down at the burned out edifice as the distant sound of thunder reached his ears. He turned his collar up against the steadily increasing rain. He thought briefly on his time with the BPRD, the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense. He thought of his team. His … friends.
Abe. Liz. He thought of his father. Not whatever hellspawned demon had supplied half his genetic material, but the late Professor Trevor Bruttenholm. The tattoo of the rain grew louder.

He marched deliberately at the building, ears perked for any hint of the almost certain ambush.

"Gettin' anything from Carrot top, Dani?" asked a male voice. The accent was American. Southern.

"Not a thing, Sam. The rain is confusing her sense of smell." Female. Another American

Another male voice spoke. South of the border - maybe Brazilian? "I'm sick of this. I hate waiting in the rain."

"Bobby. Hush," came the female voice again, "You heard what 'Yana said. Moira wants us recon only. Bad things are happening here."

"And that's why you get paid the big bucks, chief." Another female, with a hint of a Russian accent. "You get to make the hard decisions."

The man froze, and crouched down low. Kids? Here? Things were definitely going pear-shaped. He needed to get them the hell out of here before the cult made their move. How to do that, without getting the standard reaction of blinding, stinking terror, that was the challenge. Then again, he admitted, perhaps not. Facing down a giant bright red man with stub horns, a tail
and a large stone right hand might put the fear of God into them and get them out of danger.

There was a growling sound behind him and he spun around. A large, russet colored wolf was snarling at him,

"Wha- danger, team! Rahne's found something. The image is strange - it's some sort of demon…"

Crap.

"Nice puppy," he said in his calmest voice. "Good boy." The growl increased and the starling green eyes narrowed. "Girl! Good girl!" He dropped to a crouch as the wolf leaped.

"Rahne, don't!"

A group of four teenagers dressed were running at him. He had lots of questions - why they were here? Why they were dressed in those ridiculous matching yellow and black sweatsuits? Why they named their pet wolf "Rain"? He swatted the leaping wolf aside.

"Looks like one of your pet demons escaped Limbo, Magik!" yelled the dark-skinned one. "And I'm the one to send him back!" With that, the boy's body began to glow and sizzle, become black as midnight.

"I ain't anyboy's demon, kid," snapped Hellboy. "But I might ask you jus' where the hell you're from."

Sunspot connected with a right hook, sending him flying into the ruins. He skidded to a halt, his left hand going to his jaw and wiggling it to assess the damage. "Nice punch." He got up to return to the fray. These weren't any Thule cultists he knew of.

"Hey Blue, I got a bunch of meddling kids here kicking my red ass all over the place, dressed up in yellow and black ski suits… know anything about it?"

"Hmmmmm… interesting. Do they have an 'X' on their belts? Displaying paranormal powers, but not demonic?"

"Yeah!"

"It's a group of mutant students. The 'New Mutants', in fact."

"So, not the bad guys."

"Definitely not."

"This is just one of those stupid misunderstanding fights you see in the funny books?"

"Most likely."

"Gee, thanks," he said, his gravelly voice dripping with sarcasm, "I thought that crap only happened in the funny books." He got up and holstered the Samaritan. Now to convince these overeager brats he wasn't the bad guy.

He held his hands high in the air. "OK, I give up, kids!"

To their credit, they didn't attack. That was easier than he thought. The wolf had recovered, and was changing into a small redheaded girl. The tall blonde boy kneeled down to check her out, seeing if she was ok. The Amerind girl with the long hair was walking towards him, her bearing proud and her eyes suspicious, and the glowing black boy was next to her, glaring menacingly.

The blond chick was hanging back.

"Listen," he began, pulling out his badge, "I know you may not believe it looking at me, but I'm actually an agent for…" The two listened, but their stances were guarded.

* * *

Illyana was confused. Now that she thought of it, she couldn't really remember Moira MacTaggart telling her to teleport the team here. Why had she told Dani that she had? Her head was a little fuzzy, and she'd watched the short scuffle as if it had been a dream.

"Daughter…"

The voice slithered inside her, touching her soul.

"I have brought you to this place, my dear child, even as I tricked the monstrosity before you with a tale of a hidden cult. You are of my blood, and you must help me make the demon see his destiny, or else destroy him utterly!"

Her mind exploded with images, and her eyes went flat. "Anung Un Rama! Listen to me!"

"What the f-" Hellboy began, only to be attacked by a stream of mystical energy. He struggled against it.

"Magik, stand down!" Dani yelled at her. "He's not the enemy!"

Her body encased in eldritch armor, wielding her blazing Soulsword, Illyana Rasputin was not paying attention to her friends. She raised her free hand and doused the red-skinned man with another blast of magickal flame. "You have a destiny, Anung Un Rama. You are to bring the Apocalypse!"

Her words came in a double voice, and he knew where he'd heard one of them. "Rasputin!" he scowled. "Don't you have the common decency to stay dead? Anyway, you know my answer to yer damn Apocalypse." He pulled out his gun and took aim. "But if you really need a reminder, that can be arranged."

"No!" cried Cannonball, "She's our teammate!" He blocked his sight.

"Right now she's just a puppet to the sickest bastard that ever swore his soul to Hell, so unless you've got a better idea, I'm taking her out."

Their team leader stepped forward, "Maybe… it's for the best."

"Ye cannae mean that, Dani!"

"This seems like a really horrible bad guy – one of the worst. I think… I think the Illyana I know would want us to destroy him, if we could. Even if it meant her own life." Then the Cheyenne girl winked at the young Scots girl.

* * *

Through Magik's eyes, Rasputin looked at the dark skinned young woman's callous disregard for the life of this body he inhabited – the body of her friend –in horror. Surely, she would not allow Anung Un Rama to destroy his host, just for the possibility of destroying him.

It might work, too. The blood ties that allowed him to influence the girl and possess her also made the psychic connection more tangible than it would normally. The death of his host could mean death for him – final death, and the end of all his plans.

He stared down the barrel of Hellboy's oversized handgun, watched the hammer slowly draw back and the round chamber. The tendons in the left hand flexed, pulling inexorably at the trigger.

The gun went off like a thunder crack.

The special bullets obliterated the body's head, and tore at Rasputin's ectoplasmic spirit. He panicked, ripping himself free from his host, trying to escape before the horror of true death took hold.

* * *

Later, Illyana sat huddled, with Dani's arm around her. "Gutsy move, chief."

"I took a gamble. It paid off. I figured someone clinging that desperately to that sad state of existence would fear death most of all, so I hit it full blast with my fear power to make him think Hellboy had shot you."

"Yeah, well…I just about soiled that armor of mine when you did that." The Russian girl smiled. "But thanks." She turned to Hellboy. "Hey, Big Red… you don't happen to have a purple cousin named S'ym, do you?