“Alright,” Hellboy muttered, tying the final knot in the noose he had been weaving before looping it over the head of the undead Russian crumpled before him. The withered vampire managed to sneak a nip at his fleshy hand in the process, inspiring the big, red brute to land a hard blow with his stone fist. He cracked, though maintained enough restraint not to completely shatter, the bit of exposed skull peeking out from his white hair. “Son of a bitch,” Hellboy muttered under his breath as he tightened the noose and slung what remained of the obnoxious, Russian skeleton over his shoulder.
“Red!” Agent Johnson called.
“I’m comin’!” Hellboy shouted back as he trudged through the knee-deep water, sloshing his way to the Agent’s side as they trailed after their comrade.
“Red… copy? Get… right now!” A voice crackled loudly through the earpiece that dangled against Hellboy’s chest. He plucked the little black bud from where it hung and secured it back into his ear. As he did so, he spoke in a quiet voice that he hoped made it through to the other end.
“We’re tryin’, Katie.” Hellboy said into the communication piece. “Let me grab Smith and we’ll be right there.”
Johnson and Red moved side by side as they followed after Agent Smith. As they went, the half-human giant wrapped the rope upon which Count Khilkov dangled around his chest and secured it in place. Freeing up his hands he reached for his gun as they wandered into a large chamber. Though adorned with carved pillars and curious architecture, the room looked to be a cave. As they ventured deeper, following the sound of the haunting singing, a second channel opened up to the left, the water there deep enough to house countless abandoned, wrecked ships.
“Well, I guess that accounts for the missing people on the Eastern Coast.” Hellboy muttered to himself, half wishing Katie was there to hear it — just to prove that he did so listen to her briefings…
“Johnson, you should hang back.” The red-hued agent said over his shoulder. As the words left his mouth, Agent Johnson stumbled past him with his hands slack at his side instead of covering his ears. “Damn.” Hellboy muttered.
Grabbing Agent Johnson by the shoulder he spun the bald man around only to land a backhanded blow from his more-human appendage against the agent’s cheek. It was enough to stun him straight as he clutched his face and grunted, shooting his fellow agent an angry look.
“Get it together, Johnson.” Hellboy told him through gritted teeth.
Blinking free of the spell, Agent Johnson’s eyes went wide for an instant before he at once clapped his hands over his ears. “I’m gonna’ hang back.” He told Hellboy as he backed away from the cave and it’s echoing, hypnotic melody.
“Good idea.” Hellboy said back before raising his gun and resuming his pursuit of Agent Smith.
The green agent of the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defence had wandered to the top of the cave. He stopped before a broad, low altar. Kneeling before it, he opened up his arms and raised outstretched palms before him as though he were praying; as though he were making an offering. On the other side of the altar, sat a gaping whole carved into the stone of the cave, nearly a perfect circle. The base of which was slicked with that same dark slime Hellboy had found in the village. That beautiful singing was echoing from this very hole.
Approaching Agent Smith he seized him under the arm and tried hoisting him to his feet. “C’mon Smith,” he grunted. When the agent resisted, Hellboy was given pause. Looking at the agent, his slack face and hollow-seeming eyes, he investigated the altar at which he was knelt. Carved into the stone of the altar was another familiar sight, a phrase similar to the one he had seen etched over the secret doorway, only one word differing.
Только желающие могут встать на колени “Only the willing may kneel,” Hellboy muttered. “Fuck that.” He added quickly before grabbing Agent Smith by the shoulders and striking him once, twice, with no reaction. As he did, he couldn’t help but notice that the singing voice had started to get louder.
“Son of a bitch.” Hellboy groaned before winding up and shooting a hard left hook into the side of Agent Smith’s head. Catching him as he started to slump sideways, Hellboy rooted around in the B.P.R.D Agent’s jacket for the small but mighty explosives that lay within. He flipped their activation switch and tossed the whole lot into the slimey, dark hole over his shoulder before hoisting Agent Smith into his arms and heading back the way they had all come. As he rushed through the cavernous tunnel back into the burial chamber of the corpse who bounced against his back he caught up with Agent Jonson as the hypnotic song had whined and scratched into a hellish screech.
“Run faster,” he told him as he hurried past, Agent Smith still jostling in his strong arms. When the wail behind them reached the right pitch, he pressed the trigger held in the hand beneath Agent Smith’s shoulders.
“That ought to do it.” Agent Moore said cheerfully as he finished the last knot of his properly bandaged and support-wrapped ankle and foot. “Now, why don’t I take a peek at that arm?” He suggested.
It took only one, sharp look from Agent Myers for Agent Moore to immediately lift his hands in mock surrender and back away from the intimidating man before him. “It’s cool, I’m cool…” he uttered nonchalantly as he inched away and rose to his feet. He carried himself back towards Dr. Krauss and the other agents who had set up in the central hall after clearing the first floor. In Agent Moore’s place, Agent Sherman stepped forward to fill the lonely space next to John Myers.
“Is that from that scratch back in the village?” She asked, gesturing to his arm. When he didn’t bother to answer she stepped forward and reached for him. This time, when he flinched away from her touch and flashed her a cold glare, she didn’t let it stop her. “Or is it something else?” She inquired further as she reached again for his arm. Liz had already seen it, after all, Roger and Abe too.. The cat was out of the bag now. There was something wrong with Myers.
Gentle, warm fingers brushed against skin that had once been pale and soft that was now black as night and rough to the touch. Liz chewed on her lip as she studied her friend’s arm and pondered over his condition. Tucking her dark hair behind her ears she sat herself alongside Agent Myers, bringing her knees up to her chest and holding her legs. She didn’t say anything at first but instead just watched John in silence for a time before at last she spoke, saying, “you don’t have to tell me.”
“I just want to help.” Liz told Agent Myers. “We’re friends, remember?” She offered him a smile and knocked shoulders with him before fixing him once more with a meaningful stare. “Whatever this is, we’re gonna’ figure it out.” She said and she could tell that John knew, in spite of the futility of the sentiment, she meant it.
The pounding sound of running feet pulled the agents’ attention from one another to their approaching peers. Dr. Corrigan rushed forward with two other agents on her heels. As she caught her breath she glanced around, eyes going wide. “Where the hell are Smith and Johnson?” She demanded at once. “Are they not back yet with H.B.?”
“Not yet,” Liz answered as she rose from where she had been sitting next to Agent Myers. “Why? What’s happening?”
“We gotta’ go.” Dr. Kate Corrigan said at once, turning to their Captain, Dr. Krauss. “Like, right now!” She urged, taking a step forward as her hands gestured frantically. “Those things are coming up from every little crack and crevice in this entire—” Kate was never given the opportunity to finish her sentence as a massive explosion rocked the very ground beneath their feet.
“Red…” Liz started as she quickly holstered her gun and started in the direction of the deafening sound. “Red, I have to…”
“Agent Sherman, you v’hill accompany Agents Myers u’nd Moore back to z’he base camp.” Dr. Krauss ordered, moving into action. “I know z’hat you v’ant to help.” He said, holding up a silencing hand as she opened her mouth to voice her objection. “But z’hese creatures are v’ater logged. Your fire v’hill do no’zhing.” He elaborated, before adding, “z’his iz’ an order, Agent Sherman!”
Liz stood still for a moment before letting out an exasperated sigh and turning to Agent Myers. “Alright, let’s go.” She said, offering him a hand which she then pulled across her shoulder. He could walk on his bad ankle but only barely, and judging by the urgency of Dr. Corrigan’s panicked scramble, they would have to walk quickly.
“You four, v’his z’hem.” Dr. Krauss barked. “Z’he rest of you, v’iz’ me.” The Captain gave the order and the agents of the Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defence moved into action. Dr. Corrigan was the first up the stairs, bounding down the East Wing of the second floor with the rest of the agents fast behind her. They barely made it halfway down before the familiar large, red shape of their comrade burst through a door and rushed towards them. One agent followed behind while the other flopped in his arms.
“Turn around and keep running!” He called down the hallway as a band of
hungries came spilling into the corridor behind them, bouncing off the walls and scrambling like beasts on all fours. The agents of the B.P.R.D. turned on their heels and headed straight back down the worn, once lavishly carpeted steps they had just climbed. They rushed for the doors out which the rest of the team hustled, Agent Myers limping against Agent Sherman.
“Alright, quick hand-off.” Hellboy muttered as he passed Agent Smith off to two other agents, though not before snatching the last explosives from his vest. Heaving them into the main hall he paused at the threshold while the rest of the agents made their flight to the base camp, waiting for the right moment, waiting until they were all gathering and falling over each other right in the middle of the…
Now! Hellboy pressed the trigger and another huge explosion rattled the mountain upon which Khilkov Castle had been built. The agents behind him lower down the hill stumbled, Agent Sherman falling into Agent Myers as they ran, the rest holding out their arms to steady themselves on the uneven, shaking ground. The floor of the castle gave way, the
hungries falling through into the cavernous catacombs below. The rest snapped and snarled from across the gaping hole while a horrible screeching cry ripped through the much disturbed quiet air of the Russian Coast.
“Why is your solution to everything to blow it up?!” Dr. Corrigan fumed, pausing in her quick footed flight, never missing an opportunity to lecture the half-demon.
“Well, it’s effective, ain’t it?” Hellboy retorted, grinning.
“What the hell is on your back?” Dr. Corrigan raged on.
“Katie, meet Count Khilkov.” Hellboy said in mock pleasantry, hoisting the withered corpse up higher on his back.
“Ты уродливая, глупая, красная обезьяна!” The undead Russian vampire hissed.
“He’s a lot of fun.” Hellboy offered.
“So, any z’heories?” Dr. Krauss asked the man who appeared to them on the screen of their humble set-up at base camp.
“It’s hard to tell from these pictures,” Dr. Eaton answered, pulling his glasses from his face to wipe away a smudge with the tail of her shirt. “We’ll have to get you back here to H.Q., Myers. If we run a few tests, I might be able to come up with some answers.” Agent Myers sat in a wooden chair alongside the workstation that Dr. Krauss had prepared for his team, the blue glow of the monitor illuminating the side of his tired face. There were some, like Agent Sapien, who hovered around the various monitors and screens, trying to help Dr. Krauss with the riddle they had wandered their way into. Not just in relation to Agent Myers and his mysteriously blackened arm, but also the rest of the mess they had signed up for.
Agent Smith stood strapped to a nearby post, his eyes still sightless, awake and yet ever-struggling against the restraints that kept him from his desired place. Which, in this case, was kneeling at a creepy stone altar to offer himself up as a meal to a hellish she-demon. Next to him, the newly quadrapalegic, undead Count Khilkov squirmed and thrashed where he had been tied up, spouting Russian curses through fanged teeth. It was all about par-for-the-course for the B.P.R.D. agents. While some members of the team assisted in their study of these mysteries, the rest had set themselves to the task of securing the tavern hall and eliminating any nearby
hungries that might creep up on them in the night. When the last scouting team had returned, Hellboy returned along with them. He dropped the overly-large shotgun he had been sporting on his errand on a nearby table, shrugging out of his overly-large trench coat. He pulled his smoke-case from his pocket and chose a cigar over his cigarettes, bringing the tightly packed brown leaves to his lip and sparking the end.
“Give me another call if anything changes.” Dr. Eaton said. “I’ll see you soon, John.” The blond-haired scholar told the agent, turning his head in the camera so as to maintain polite formality even over a video-chat. He gave one last nod of the head before the screen went black, the words “chat-ended” replacing the kind face of the man who had studied under Dr. Trevor Bruttenholm.
“Z’here iz not much more v’hee can do for you here, Agent Myers.” Dr. Krauss explained. “V’hee v’hill have to take a closer look v’hen v’hee return.”
“How ya’ feelin’, Myers?” Hellboy asked as he walked up to the group of studious agents. The response he got was about what he had expected. “And how’s Smith?” He pressed on, turning his attention to Dr. Krauss.
“Not good.” The Captain answered simply.
“Hey, I think I’ve got something.” Dr. Corrigan called the team on cue. They collected themselves and meandered over to where she had set up an impromptu brain scan. Probes were stuck to Agent Smith’s head and connected to a monitor and a computer where Kate analyzed the data. Hellboy didn’t fail to notice the way Liz lingered behind the group to help Agent Myers to his feet. Hiding his feelings in a puff of cigar smoke, he turned his attention to Dr. Corrigan.
“His neurons are firing here and here, as though he’s listening to music.” Kate explained as she pointed to the areas that were lit up on the complicated map of Agent Smith’s brain.
“I don’t hear anything,” Roger pointed out in his usual monotonous voice.
“Exactly.” Dr. Corrigan said, raising a finger into the air matter-of-factly. “It’s like he’s infected with her siren-song, and it’s eating away at his neurological functions, like…” The moment her voice trailed off, Hellboy rushed to fill the silence.
“Like a parasite.” He finished. “Look at that Myers, you were right all along.” Though his tone was jovial and sarcastic, the feeling was not one shared mutually. Agent Myers only looked on at the information before him with an unreadable furrowed brow.
“So, Count Khilkov marries a siren, who lures victims to his castle so he can regenerate… then what?” Agent Sherman asked, her brow quirked as she stepped up beside the large, red, cigar-smoking man in front of her to ask the educated doctors before her more directly.
“Z’his power she v’heilds is extraordinary,” Dr. Krauss explained. “But vampires drain u’nd kill z’here victims. Z’heze people are undead like vampires, but also v’ater demons, like her.” The Captain went on, musing. “If v’hee can find z’hee source of z’his power, v’hee might understand v’hat v’hee are missing.”
“I’ve got some ideas.” Hellboy offered as he pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket, dropping the black and white image of Count Khilkov, the mysterious Japanese woman and Rasputin onto the surface of the medical cart.
“Rasputin,” Agent Sapien breathed, looking down at the image and then back to his comrades, blinking. “Agent Myers, you said that you saw him in Castle Khilkov.” He pointed out, gesturing to the brunette man who stood across from him, one hand still touching upon the mindless, sightless agent who struggled against his restraints.
“You saw him?” Hellboy’s voice was loud as he turned on Agent Myers, eyes wide and wild. “You’re sure?” He questioned pointedly. When he was satisfied with the answer he got he brushed past his fellow Agents, reaching first for his trenchcoat and then for his shotgun before starting towards the door.
“Oh, no you don’t!” Liz objected at once, rushing forward to put herself between Red and the barricaded door he was headed for. “Don’t you dare.” She warned, an outstretched hand upon his chest. When he moved to side step her she mirrored his footing, blocking him again. “Red, you promised!” She reminded him. Hellboy stared down at his girl for a moment, then another before finally
tsking his tongue against his teeth and rolling his eyes. Turning back around he angrily slammed his coat and gun onto the same table from which he had plucked them before striding past his fellow agents once more. Snatching a scalpel off the medical cart he stood before the hissing Russian Count who wiggled his decaying corpse helplessly within his bindings.
“Red, what are you doing?” Liz asked, following after her greatest joy and also her greatest headache.
“Torture didn’t work to get this asshole to talk,” Hellboy pointed out as he dragged the scalpel across the palm of his hand. “Let’s see if temptation will.” As he spoke he lifted his bleeding hand over the remains of Count Khilkov, who arched his splintering head and extended his dried up tongue in anxious anticipation.
“Red, I wouldn’t do that…” Kate cautioned.
As the first drop of Hellboy’s blood fell from his squeezed fist and landed into Count Khilkov’s waiting mouth, the resplendent glowing blue all at once returned to his dead eyes.
