Author’s Note— Not a very original beginning, I know. One of these days I’m going to rewrite it. But I have too many fics in the works right now and I don’t have the time. I hadn’t thought so much about this part of story, I just wanted to set a basic mood. If there is anyone out there who hates the first chapter as much as I do, then please, feel free to flame me.
Disclaimer—I don’t own any of these characters. I’m using them for the sheer reason of boredom.
Within the depths of the night, there lie monsters.
Beings who have been a part of Earth longer than any human could ever conceive. They have their place in existence, just as any other race; they feel anger and happiness just, as anyone else. Some were born into fate and their destinies chosen for them. They are broken and controlled by that which binds their hands and feet and minds. In angry desperation they fight back, lashing at their masters, nemeses and friends.
There are those of these who are evil. And there are also those who are not. Evil is an extremely complex concept, because it is in everything. Within the hearts of children and minds of great leaders lives evil. Entwining, like the tentacles of a mammoth kraken, through deeds and actions, making itself known, grasping for control, lusting for power.
However, just the same as evil, there is its unparalleled rival - good. The divinity of hope and of hate that forever interweaves radically opposite vocations is never sated. Evil and good relentlessly walk side by side, hand in hand, step by step. The two are ancient lovers, constantly waging the greatest battle ever to be fought. They strike out at each other one moment, only to show kindness and passion the next. These two are the ultimate Lover’s Tragedy.
Yet through all the pain they have and will cause, these two shall always find comfort in each other’s embrace. Nothing, not even the wake of their own destruction, can overtake the possibilities inherent in which they are. They will create and demolish the life and potential they have, thrusting all emotion into ambivalence, until even they do not understand what it is they could have been.
But they will find each other in the end, for what is good and what is evil rarely ever stays within the dimensions it was meant for. They have begun to break free of everything they were supposed to be. The true purpose of there creation revealed long ago have lost its meaning. They live for the moment and for others in their keep. Becoming generals and warriors in secret battles rarely seen by mortal eyes. Faced by the greatest pains, those who have and will overcome the tangible gods and their darkest inner fallen angels are now to be tested in that which they know the least of, their own ability to contain the rage of emotion that spent years stifling for the salvation of others.
The choices have been made, and their paths must now be walked.
He awoke screaming. Sweat ran down his blood red face as the image of his nightmare stuck to him like an adhesive.
She was gone
For a moment she’d been okay, but then she was gone.
He brought his more ‘normal’ hand to his face as the tears effluenced of their own will. He couldn’t stop them. He wanted to though. They made him feel weak. But it was out of his control now. Once they started, it was hours before they stopped.
He threw the comforter off him and sulked to his bathroom.
I have to piss anyway, was his excuse. As he walked through the door, he avoided the looking into the mirror. Seeing himself crying was most definitely number one on his Big List of Shit I Don’t Want See Myself Do. He couldn’t help but catch a flicker of light from his cheek. Reaching out and twisting the faucet knob, he splashed the cold water on his face. With lidded eyes, the figure made his way to the latrine.
It was her expression that terrified him so much. The fear and horror he saw in that expression. The last time he saw her, she…she was hurt. The four of them were sent out on a mission. And they hurt her. But it didn’t save them. He crushed their necks until they were breathing their own blood. He ran to her side then. But it was too late. Everything that night was too late. The ambulance, the paramedics…even she was too late.
That same night, just hours before, they had been together for the first time. He felt her, every part of her.
Then they killed her.
He knew the others would be coming in a minute. They always did when anything happened. He could never get a seconded to himself unless he snuck out. After finishing up, he washed his hands and strode back into his room. He sat down on the bed waited. A moment later they appeared, barging into his room with no care of his privacy. There was only two of them this time, one being his ‘babysitter’.
“What happed?” ‘Babysitter’ asked frantically.
The figure looked up at them slowly, methodically and spoke with a voice sodden by sarcasm.
“Nothing. What you want?” Each of his words was etched with poison.
‘Babysitter’ was calmed. He gave his companion a warning look, to which he replied with a simple nod and left. ‘Babysitter’ looked at the figure apologetically.
“You were dreaming about her again, weren’t you?”
He shot ‘Babysitter’ and acid glare.
“And what would you know about it? You were too weak to keep up, while I watched as she was bleeding to death. If you had been there sooner…”
“If I had been there sooner it’s not very likely I would have changed anything. She went after that…that thing on her own. Nether of us could have stopped, it was her choice!”
“Shut up, just shut up!” He stood up. “Anything you have to say about, I don’t want to hear! You get that?”
“Yeah…” ‘Babysitter’ replied evenly. “Yeah, I get it. And I’m sorry if you don’t like it, but I happen to care when you waking up in the middle of the night screaming your lungs out.” He took a step forward and pointed a finger at the other, who was still sitting on the bed. “I don’t do this just because it’s my job, I’m here because I care. And I cared about her too…”
“Watch it.” His head was angled downwards, his eyes glowering up at the man. “I don’t really want to about how much you cared for her.”
“Oh come on! Can’t you think of anything else? Even now, that’s all you have in your mind? Grow up!” He stopped, forcing himself to regain control. “It’s been two years since she died. Don’t you think you should…try to move on?”
As soon as he said it, he regretted it. The figure got up from the bed, charging his way over to ‘Babysitter’. Towering over the small man, he leaned in closely until their faces were inches apart from each other.
“You wouldn’t know anything about it. Now leave.” His timbre was dark, frightening even. The shorter man stepped back.
“You don’t call me that! You don’t get to!” He stopped, before he did something stupid. Gradually, he backed up. “I said leave!” he growled, with all the force of a demon when the other still failed to move. ‘Babysitter’ held up his hands defensively.
“Fine.” He turned around. Before he reached the exit, he gently called over shoulder, “Goodnight Hellboy.”
“Shut your hole, Meyers.”
The man, Meyers, gave his friend once last sympathetic look before quietly closing the door behind him.
The vampire was quicker than most she’d encountered lately. She picked him up and threw him against a brick wall. The girl ducked as another vampire high kicked at her head. She quickly rotated her body and thrust her stake into his chest. The resulting dust from his disintegrated corpse covered her coat and hair. She ignored it. Dropping to the ground, she swept her outstretched leg under her enemy, causing him to fall. Behind her, her companion jumped on a vampire’s back. He pulled at the demon’s hair and neck until he was thrown off. The enemy mutated his face. Ripples and rose from the skin. The other did the same. They attacked simultaneously, two vampires struggling for superiority. The enemy was tossed to the asphalt and immediately staked.
He took a breath as his face returned to normal. Turning his head to the girl, he saw that she dispatched the remaining vamps. The two of them were alone now. The dark alleyway rung high with silence. He sensed this and put a stop to it.
“You okay, love?” He took out a cigarette and stuck it between his lips. “You came off a little edgy back there.” Pulling a Letterman from the pocket of his long, black coat, he lit the cigarette.
The girl, who was hanging her head low, matched his gaze.
“It’s nothing.” She picked up a small ax she’d dropped in the gutter. He raised his eyebrows sardonically. “It’s just…you ever get a really weird feeling? Like something was coming? But you can’t do anything to stop it because you have no idea was it is?”
He sucked on the butt.
“Slayer, you should try drinking some tea or something.” He flicked at the cigarette with his ring finger. “It’s supposed to be relaxing.”
“Well…I don’t know. Something is coming. Not sure what though.” She began to walk. The icy-blonde followed. “I’ve been getting a lot of slayer dreams lately. All with the Hell and fire and demons…” Her lilted voice faded away with a singsong tenor. “It’s unnerving.”
“Unnerving? That’s a bit of a strong word for a Slayer.” He replied.
“Well yeah. But…it’s like this; I see a vampire or a demon or whatever. And I fight. I find it and I kill it. End of story. I can’t fight something I can’t see.”
He arched one eyebrow.
“Slayer, you are deep in it.” He gestured to her, cigarette in hand.
She barely glanced in his direction. Biting her bottom lip, her eyes fell to the ground. Cigarette butts and fast food bags lined the streets. Oil leaks on the asphalt stuck to her shoes soles as she trudge over them. A testament to Californian civilized life.
The dreams she had been nothing short of nightmares. She would typically wake up two or three times one night, covered in sweat yet freezing cold. This occurrence became regular a little over a month ago, when the fall term started. After the whole ‘Initiative’ incident, she was hoping to have relaxed this school year without any major nemeses to battle. But the dreams seemed to prove otherwise. They were making it difficult for her to concentrate on her class work.
Dawn wasn’t much help either. Buffy was having enough problems as it was, and the middle-schooler created more issues with her sister everyday. There was so much the little girl didn’t understand about being a slayer. She appeared to have gotten into her head that it didn’t involve long episodes of sleep depravation or constant peril and fear that she would not return that night. Or if she did, she most certainly didn’t care. It was frustrating having to deal with so much at one time. The least Dawn could do is stay out of her and Giles’ training sessions. Buffy needed that time to think and relax. Just as Spike said, she needed to relax.
Spike. What was she doing out here with him anyway? He’d been fighting with the scoobies more frequently lately. God only knew why. And the creepy thing was he almost seemed to enjoy it. Even right now, she was having a civilized conversation with him. The whole concept weirded her out more than she wanted to admit.
“I’m going home.” She confessed.
“What?” That vampire protested. “But we’ve barely started. Come on slayer, one more round. The baddies won’t even know what hit them!”
“The baddies don’t have a psych test tomorrow morning. I need to sleep.” Her pace increased.
“Not one more fight?”
He stopped, sulking.
“Yeah, alright then. You want to call it a night then go ahead.” He staked off to some dark alleyway, leather coat floating in the wind.
Buffy continued home.
“Mom! I’m home.” Buffy closed the door behind her and hung her coat up the rack. She lazily tromped into the living room to see Dawn flipping through the channels. Buffy slumped onto the couch while Dawn ignored her.
“Anything good on?”
Dawn glanced at her sister.
“Not really. But earlier, Yosemite Sam was tricked by Bugs Bunny cross-dressing again. That was pretty funny.”
Buffy smirked at her sister’s juvenile amusement.
A spicy aroma lilted its way from the kitchen area, caressing her senses. She could smell…was that chicken? Yes, chicken and steamed vegetables. Food sounded massively inviting right now.
“Mom!” she called.
A tall flaxen woman stepped into the living room, towel in hand and a smile on her face.
“Buffy, you’re back. How was patrol?”
“Confusing.” She groaned. “I really don’t want to talk about it. Is dinner going to be ready soon? I’m really hungry.”
“Sure.” She lifted her head slightly. “Dawn, could you set the table?”
“But I set the table last time.” she argued, her eyes locked on to the television set.
“Yes honey, I know. But please try to be nice to you sister and help out. She had a hard day.”
The adolescent looked up.
“Buffy’s had a hard day? She doesn’t have to deal with Trisha Matterson and her constant harassment of anything that isn’t blonde and perfect.”
“Oh, you want to talk about harassment? Try being charged at by three vampires and seven-foot tall demon and red stripes that spits this clear pink goop on your favorite sweater that even now after washing four times in the machine and three times by hand you still can’t get off. I think I’ve had a much worse day then you have.”
Dawn stood up.
“Mom, it’s not fair. I always have to help and Buffy doesn’t do anything! She…”
“Dawn,” Grace Summers interjected. “Please just help me with this. Buffy can help next time.” She turned on her heals and back towards the kitchen. Dawn glared at her sister good and hard before retreating to the dinning room to set out the dishes.
Sighing, Buffy grabbed the remote and changed the channel.
Post Scrip and Addendum — (Warning, possible mood spoilers for comic book series) In this fic, I wanted to use elements of both the movie and comic books. Both are very different in the most extreme sense. It wasn’t like Spiderman were the producer sought to keep true to the original story as much as possible to appease the fans. It was more like a Steven King novel-made-movie where half the story line and characters are bastardized for Hollywood. I especially hated how they wrote Liz Sherman. In the comic books she not so helpless and sad, but a little more gung ho than her movie counterpart. During chapter four of the first graphic novel after Liz has just had her first pyrotechnic relapse in over a decade, she says something like, “I feel better than I have in a long time, like I just got something big out of my system.” Of coarse she wouldn’t have said this if anyone were really hurt, anyone important that is. But it was just a giant monster and Rasputan.
They way the movie treated its viewers annoyed me as well. It went into detail on a lot of things the comic book didn’t address. Granted I haven’t yet read the whole series, but I haven’t even come across anyone named Myers or anything about candy bars and pancakes. It may be that I simply haven’t read that far yet, but still it felt like the producers felt a need to fit everything into perfect little puzzle pieces by making stuff up fill in blanks. The comic treats the audience like adults, the movie treats them like idiots without minds of their own.
The B.P.R.D. isn’t so controlling of Hellboy in the comic ether, they seem to let him lose to do his own thing. Something about this makes him less self-conscious of what he is and a little bit more able to do his job. I’m not trying to criticize Del Toro and his directing styles, because I think he did a great job with the script he was given. I loved the sardonic comedy found in the movie. The comic has that too, but it’s less comprehensive. The Horror elements are more prominent throughout the books, and this is only supplemented by the occasional wit rather than overpowered by it. And Hellboy is a Horror series, through you wouldn’t know from the movie.
I’m not and expert Hellboy in any way. Three months I’d never even heard of Hellboy before. I had absolutely no interest in seeing the movie at all ether. In fact, the only reason I saw Hellboy was that I promised my sick little sister that I would take her to a movie and she demanded to see Hellboy. Her explanation was that she ‘liked the name’. Both of were pleasantly surprised at what we saw.
I could go into more detail of the differences between the two mediums of Hellboy, but my intent here is to point out the divergence of movie and book so that the readers of this fic understand that I’m not letting the people get out of character.
And lastly, this chapter was terrible. I punched it out in all of twenty minutes to get the story going, because I am a massive procrastinator. I knew that if I didn’t state now I never wood. Yeah, so again, sorry for the tackiness and unoriginality of chapter one. The overall fic is much better.