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There's something wrong with Myers (Reigning)

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Offline readlliea

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(Here's the doc for our old posts
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1-_YFlnmqHIQDmYIDgcDhhb3SqEb72uS0gS9JrTv-0HE/edit?usp=sharing I'm just going to paste my last response for the opening post here.)
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Helping Myers out of the hole, Abe kept quiet as he watched the man stand up. Taking a few breathes before seeming to relax.

"Alright.....best if you two lead the way.." Myers suggested to the two with them.

Krauss ended up taking the lead, it didn't matter to Myers who was leading the march back. It didn't site well with him though. Granted, putting some distance between himself and Red was the best option right now. The agent could feel his emotions swirling around in his head, only bubbling in a worse ferocity due to his own mental state during those moments of arguing. Pain from his ankle made his pace slightly awkward though, he found himself picking up the radio from his belt.

"Myers to Liz, you there?" Myers called through the radio as he held the button down to let his voice through and then released.

"Go ahead Myers." Liz's voice came through, scratchy and somewhat robotic sounding despite the decent tech.

"Red and I had to split up, Red's fine and he took Agents Smith and Johnson with him. So he's not on his own at least, they're exploring the lower areas of this place."

"Everything alright?"


Myers grimaced somewhat. While one could assume from pain, it was also from the question stirring the negative emotions. Though the man managed to push it down enough to give his response.

"My ankle's torn to shreds from those things in here. Keep an eye out on the floor boards, they seem fond of grabbing from bellow..." Myers replied.

"Got it." Liz replied.

With that, the radio fell silent and Myers put it back near his belt. Though he came to a pause. Liz would've wanted to know that Red was at least with others right? The demon figured it was best not to comment. While it was fun, making the pure of heart man lose themselves to their emotions. It would only hinder the situation. Course, the other agents quickly noticed that the agent had stopped and turned their attention to him.

"Myers? Everything alright?" Abe asked.

Of course, Abe knew it was probably best to be watching Myers a little more closely due to...the strange suspicions he was having. Something was wrong, this man...wasn't the same man who had came to the bureau that the Professor entrusted Hellboy to. The black around the white light that was in Myers was still there...though it seemed to have spread. Not consuming it...at least not yet. The man didn't answer, merely pushing himself forward and past the other two agents.

The hallway that was destroyed from the grenade was no in his view. As he glanced across the large hole and the small bits of flesh that were scorched yet clung to the broken pieces of floorboards or on the walls, something caught his attention. A shape...a shape that felt familiar lingered at the end of the hall before slipping away. Eyes wide, Myers rushed forward as Abe and Krause came upon the man.

“Agent wait!!!” Krause ordered as he reached to grab Myers, though his thickly gloved hand familed to grab hold of the agents as he jumped onto a partially intact piece of floor that was already giving under him.

Blocking them out was easy, ignoring the voice of a agent he didn't know was like flicking a switch. His mind focusing on getting across the large hole, shimming himself along the bits of floor that were against the wall.

“Myers!!! You're ankle, we need to get you back....to...” Abe called out but the agent slipped away as he barely made it across the gap, rushing down the hall that none of them explored.

A sigh left Abe as he took the radio in hand.

“Red? Pick up Red.” Abe called through the radio as he and Krause started to search for another way around.


Offline Reigning King

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“Uhg, it smells down here.” Agent Smith complained as they trudged through murky, knee-deep waters. 

“Shhh.” Hellboy hissed back.  The three agents had found themselves in an underground catacomb, hidden beneath the manse, discovered through a secret trap-door in a secret study in a secluded corner of the remote island.  Unsurprising, really.  Given the line of work these men had found themselves drafted into.  Believe it or not, the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defence, prepared you for these sort of things.  Nerves were understandable however.  While this wasn’t Agent Johnson’s first assignment, nor Agent Hellboy’s (not by a long shot), it was Agent Smith’s first time in the field.  First-job-jitters were normal.  Something Hellboy had learned about the green Agent: when he got nervous, he talked a lot. 

“What are we walking through anyway?” He asked, ignoring the sharp sh! his comrade had given him.  “It’s so thick…”

“It’s gonna get a little thicker if you don’t shut that mouth, Smith.” Hellboy warned lowly.  “We don’t know what’s down here.”

“I was just saying…” Agent Smith started.

“Well don’t!” Agent Johnson snapped. 

“And who put you in charge?” The young Agent challenged back. 

“You’ve got a bad attitude, kid.” Johnson pointed out, rubbing a hand across his bald head.  Agent Smith opened his mouth to utter a retort, but was hushed finally by the melody carried upon a breeze through the stone walls of the cavernous underground.  Both men looked oft in the direction from whence it came with a dreamlike expression on their features, both revelling in the beauty of the tune.  By contrast, the towering red creature who accompanied them pulled on his cigarette, a bushy black brow furrowed in calculated curiosity. 

“C’mon.” Hellboy encouraged through his teeth.  “And shut the hell up, while you’re at it.”

The three Agents of the B.P.R.D trudged their way through the murky waters of the underground labyrinth, led by the tink-tink of the sweet melody that urged them onward.  Various rooms of differing purpose passed them as they waded deeper into the maze, containing within them nothing of interest.  Scatterings of furniture and varying depths of the dark slush they sloshed through, most mysteriously hollow and without perceivable use.   As the stone passageway opened up to them, revealing a large chamber, the radio in Hellboy’s ear crackled to life. 

“Red?  Pick up, Red!”

“This had better be good, Abe.” Hellboy hissed into the communication piece, pressing a stone finger against the technology. 

“It’s Agent My… -- taken off on his own!” Agent Sapien explained, the worry in his voice clear in spite of the static that interrupted his words. 

“Myers is a big boy, Abe.  I’m sure he’ll be fine.” He muttered in return, his words distant for the distraction that had occupied Hellboy’s focus.  The chamber before him was ornate, or at least it had been once.  The ceiling was domed, it’s artisanal design and the pillars that held it aloft carved from the stone of the very mountain.  In the center was a seven pointed star, directly beneath which sat a sarcophagus.  They had stumbled upon a tomb, the walls scrawled in ancient dialects that predated the Russian Monarchs who would have built their castle upon it.  At the head of the chamber, a table of offerings stood out for the music box that sat upon its cluttered surface.  In place of a ballerina, a mermaid spun in circles to the melody that echoed from her golden stage. 

“I’m concern… is compromised.  I felt… -- need your help!”  Abe’s voice stuttered through the radio. 

“Look, the boys and I are busy.  Tell Krauss to send someone else.” Red muttered sharply before tugging the communication piece from where it was stuck in his ear.  Letting it tumble against his shirt, he dropped his cigarette into the swampy waters at their feet, lifting his gun as he approached the sarcophagus.  It was occupied by a pale body dressed in an antiquated version of a military uniform, Russian Cavalry with Commanders’ dressings to boot. 

“Is that..?” Agent Smith started, the barrel of his gun revealing the shake in his hands. 

“I hope so.” Hellboy said as he holstered his own gun and strode forward confidently.  “Because I’ve got some questions.” Stepping up onto the edge of the sarcophagus, he straddled the corpse within as he reached down and seized the front of its uniform, lifting it from its place of rest.  Pulling the black and white image he had found in the secret study upstairs from his inner coat pocket, he held the image to the whites of the sightless eyes before him.  “How do you know Rasputin?” He asked.  The picture captured a moment in time when Count Mikhail Khilkov had shook hands with Rasputin alongside a pretty young oriental thing that looked just like the aged painting of the woman they had found in the antechamber with Agent Myers.  Rasputin was dead, of that much Hellboy was certain.  The deed had been done by his own hand after all.  However, as many within the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defence understood, dead did not always mean, well… dead.  “C’mon, how do you know this asshole?” He demanded of the silent corpse he shook so disrespectfully. 

“Um…” Agent Smith started, but quieted his nervous words when he saw his partner poised and calm, gun at the ready as he circled to a position more advantageous to offer Hellboy cover.  Taking cue, he followed suit. 

“Listen here, jerk…” Hellboy started on the limp body he held.  He was never given the opportunity to finish his threat however, as the corpse suddenly opened its black eyes and screamed terribly.  Seizing Hellboy by his throat, he heaved the mammoth sized man across the chamber like he was weightless.  The rough crunch of his inhuman body crushing the stone for the force of the blow echoed through the corridors of the catacombs.

“Holy shit!”  Agent Smith muttered.  “Holy shit, is he always like this?” He asked his comrade, aghast.

“Pretty much.” Agent Johnson replied, cool and composed as he stepped forward next in Hellboy’s wake, squeezing the trigger and sending blessed bullets blasting holes through the screaming demon they had awakened. 

“I hate Russians,” Hellboy muttered as he pulled himself from the Hellboy-shaped hole he had left in the stone of the chamber wall, brushing the rubble from his broad shoulders.  Gun in hand, he rushed forward.  Meanwhile, on the other side of Castle Khilkov, another radio crackled to life in a different Agent’s ear. 

“Liz! Liz, are you there?”

“I’m here.” She answered, placing a hand on her comrade’s shoulder while the other touched a finger to the communication piece in her ear.  Roger stopped alongside her, gesturing to the field agents in their unit to do the same. 

“It’s Agent Myers, he’s taken off towards the far wing.  We can’t reach him.  Dr. Krauss needs someone to --”

“I’ll be right there.” Liz answered at once. 


King Kade - Reigning from the North


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Offline readlliea

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The pain radiating through his ankle was a constant cry his body was giving him. The sound of static from his radio and com link would flicker louder but then it would go quiet. The agent ignoring the device as he rushed through the halls, chasing the phantom thing he had seen. Now he hadn't gotten a good look at it, yet he was already convinced he had seen it before...something, about that glimpse was familiar. Creaking floor boards would make it through to his ears, reminding him to be wary of the ancient floors. Still, he charged through the halls as if he was a blood hound chasing after a coon, hot on it's tail for whatever reason.

You're going to destroy that leg of yours at this rate. I'd slow down. The demon's voice remarked, letting Myers charge onward as they merely sat and enjoyed the ride.

"I don't care! I saw something that's more important than my damn ankle!" Myers retorted out loud, given they were far away from the others.

True, but what good is a foot ready to pop off once you get to the location you are heading?


In all honesty....this demon had given him some sense of sanity back in the arctic. After all, that nightmare was only made worse as he ended up alone. One by one...fellow agents falling left and right, things spiraling further out of control. A voice in his head that wasn't his own had become...comforting when alone. Communications didn't work, they wouldn't come online no matter what he or anyone else had done. The cold of the building seemed to increase as he charged along. Bits of wall opened up to allow the snow to enter and corrected the interior further.

While he wasn't paying attention to the thing son the walls, the Russian decor seemed to slowly fade away until he came to a pair of large doors. Extending his hands out, he pushed with the aid of his momentum, shoved the doors open with a echoing creak that he knew hadn't resonated through the hall before he arrived here. Still, he finally stopped. Panting and breathing heavily as his ankle burned with pain, pulsing angerily as he tried to take some of the weight off of it for the moment.

"Welcome....agent." A voice drifted in the air of the room.

Raising his head, his eyes darted around the room as his hand easily reached for his gun. Was it instinct at this point? Or just repetition that finally got it through to him to where it was so easy? A large room is what his eyes landed on, a former ball room that was once filled with splendor and cheery people. Dancing to music and enjoying one another's company. But also a political battlefield in it's own way. Secrets and conspiracies could often emerge here back in those days. And yet, it wasn't the large space, what it once was, and it's now aged state that drew his gaze.

The ornate and detailed robe of black and a slight yellow color, perhaps it was once golden. The beard and bald head were already clear indicators. And yet, the eyes were what sealed it. The eyes of a man who held so much dark knowledge, a man that served something so much higher up. A smile spread to their face as Myers stared back.

"So surprised to see me? My master's bidding is not yet done after all." the man remarked, only to be cut off by the sound of a gun going off.

Truth be told, Myers was merely firing the gun. Aimed at the being's chest, the bullets merely phased through them. Doing nothing to them as if they weren't even solid.  A ghost? Perhaps. But a ghost or not, this was nowhere near good. How could this guy come back? After all this time? After everything?!! The demon remained silent, focusing it's energy to healing up the agent's ankle. It wouldn't repair everything any time soon. It would stabilize it. Still, the silence in the air quickly became harder to bear.

The sound of static would come through the silence, breaking it in half with a sharp click. A voice, trying to get through.

"My...e...ers...Myer....s.." Abe's voice tried to break through, trying desperately to reach them.

A shared look was given between the phantom and Myers, gritting his teeth. The agent made his move as another loud shot rang out.
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Radio silence would fall, there was a chance that Liz or even Roger would've heard that last gunshot as they neared that area of the Castle. The air was most likely tense and yet the sound of the radio flaring to life would probably give Abe and Liz the hope they wanted. It seemed to be easily sent to both channels on different frequencies?

"Ballroom..." the radio would transmit through, sounding like Myers yet it sounded slightly off; as if something else was being picked up on the frequency. "Hurry....a...i...."

The radio would fall silent once more and whoever got there first would easily find the doors to the place swung open. Not a single soul was here. Yet in the center of the ballroom on the floor, rested a radio and the com link. The cold air was stronger here, breathe turning into a white mist that would fade after a few moments. Where had Myers gone though?

For the agent, he felt himself merely floating. Drifting with nothing but a horrible feeling...a ever growing cold as he remained put. Slowly he started to stir back to conciousness, as memories further made his mind twist. Where was he? Why was it....so cold? The cold quickly reminded him of the Arctic, a place he never wanted to return to. The attempt to take a breathe of air resulted in his eyes shooting open, choking as he found no air rushing into his lungs. Only water!!

No....no no no... Myers thought as he held his breath, the urge to cough still present from the ice cold water that burned his lungs.

Looking up, the situation fully came to mind. Despite how deep he already  was underwater, he could see it. The underside of boots, of Bureau grade boots!! The room had turned into his nightmare, a nightmare to where he was sinking in the ocean and the floor of the ballroom was the thick sheet of ice preventing him from getting out. Granted he was literally in the floor with no one knowing this.