World's Greatest Paranormal Investigator

It was dark, and cold, and he was lost... so lost. And then--

It's over, the battle won. The abandoned building is gone, along with the influence of its maker.

He'd been lying in the rubble he'd fallen with, half buried in stone and splintered wood. Now he's laying on his side by the lake shore in a patch of rushes, his legs in the water, his eyes closed.

He still has the horns of Anung Un Rama, but the crown of fire is gone, and his stone hand is cold now, no longer glowing with fire from within.

["Hi." "Hey."]


Coming back from the bar, Red is in a much better mood than when he left.

An agent comes up and tells him they've made contact with the Peru team, but Red waves him off, already knowing now that Liz is safe.

Heading back to the vault, Red's surprised at the scene that greets him.

The orange cat he rescued earlier is up and about, and... serenading Rita Hayworth?

On bent knee, the tabby has the fluffy silver Persian's paw, and is crooning in... Spanish?

Rita is less than impressed, and when she takes her paw and wanders off the orange cat turns to the next nearest feline (a black and white cat named Ms. Hepburn) and begins singing to her.

The rest of the cats all look on and Red is at a rare loss.

Not knowing what else to do, he coughs into his stone fist.

Dozens of eyes turn his way, and a crowd of cats runs up to greet him.

The orange tabby leaps up and whirls to face Red.

"You're awake," Red comments, looking down at the cat.

"Yes, I am feeling much better," the cat nods, sheepish smile in place.

Red eyes him as Rita Hayworth rubs herself against Red's leg.

"What were you doing?"

The cat glances around, guilty for a moment, and then suddenly he looks up at Red, and the cat's eyes go wide and imploring, his whiskers droop, and his paws come up; making him look like the most innocent and pitiful creature in the world.

"Please, señor," the cat says, and Red can hear his purr, "I must thank you for saving my life."

Red feels his heart melt, and that protective suspicion he had going evaporates.

"I uh-- sure. It's what I do."

"You are a brave soul," the cat replies, looking up at Red with an impressed and grateful gaze. "And I, Puss in Boots, pledge that I will-- "

Red blinks and interrupts.

"You're Puss in Boots?"

The cat nods, and suddenly straightens up, losing the cute look and adopting a rakish grin.

"Ah, yes, you have heard of me?"

"Of course I have. Who hasn't?" Really. Red loved that story.

Puss puffs up with pride, but it deflates a touch a moment later.

"I wish that I could prove myself to you, but I seem to have lost my affects."

"You're what-- oh!"

Turning back to the vault door, Red sticks his head out and bellows, "MYERS!"

As it so happens, the agent is already just outside and winces against the hollering.

"Right here, Red. I've got your-- "

Stepping into the vault, Myers holds up a small bag of dry cleaning, which Red snatches.

"Gimme that."

Myers lets it go with a slight look of disapproval, then holds out the boots in his other hand.

"I got the cape and the hat cleaned, but I'm not spit-polishing these tiny boots, Red, I-- "

"My boots!" Puss reaches up and grabs his footwear, and Myers's jaw hits the ground.

Passing over the other articles to Puss, Red turns to Myers and starts pushing the man back out of his room.

"You're done here, Myers."

Myers blinks, and finds his tongue.

"That-- that-- but, that-- I-- cat-- "

"Yeah, yeah, c-a-t, that spells 'cat', get out." Shoving Myers back out into the hall, Red pulls the door closed and dusts his hands.

Turning around, Red positively beams at the fully dressed cat standing there.

Puss looks himself over and nods, then looks back to Red.

"My sword?" the cat asks hopefully.

Red retrieves the blade from where he set it on a shelf.

The cat dons the belt, and draws the sword.

"An' now you see me as, Puss in Boots."

Red grins. Best. Day. Ever.

RRREeetrrTskshTHUNK

What is that noise?

EEERRrrrteeeTrrSkrrssh

It's almost like nails on a chalkboard, but --

THUNK

but what the hell is that thudding sound? Like something hitting a wall...


Manning, Director of the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense, is on the trail of a mystery. He pops another antacid as he walks down the hallways of the Bureau, following the strange screeching noise that detoured him from heading to his office.

He turns a corner just in time to see the tip of a red tail disappear around the bend.

"Hellboy?"

His eyes narrow and he picks up the pace, reaching the end of the hall and turning, stopping in his tracks when he gets there.

THUNK

"Crap."

What he sees is Hellboy from the side, and the big red ape has just slammed Manning's desk into the door jam of an open storage closet.

"Hey!" Manning shouts and Red looks up.

"Crap."

Hellboy turns his attention back to the desk, Manning's desk, and starts forcing it through the door.

"Hey! Hey, stop! That's my desk, you -- "

Dropping the roll of Tums in his hand, Manning starts to run.

Red works more earnestly and shoves the desk with much noise, and probably damage, through the door. His tail snakes around the door hand and pulls it closed behind him just as Manning arrives.

"HEY!"

The lake had been quiet for years, small incidents and sightings were reported but nothing extraordinary. Ripples in the water, splashes in the dark and shadows moving far below the surface of the water, all events that could be explained away as common occurances and none falling under the catagory of dangerous that would require intervention. 

Then the first swimmer disappeared. 

Authorities dragged the lake bottom but the body of the Edmonton vacationer was never recovered. A week later another swimmer vanished and heads started to turn. When a fisherman was yanked off a pier in front of dozens of witnesses by whatever he'd hooked and was then swallowed by the lake word was sent to the bureau. 

The Ogopogo was designated a major threat and Hellboy was dispatched. 

*****

The small boat had been trolling the lake for three hours and hadn't picked up a single sonar blip bigger then a trout. Hellboy had finished all the sandwiches that had been packed and crushed the last Red Bull can in his stone fist as the boat made a slow turn near the shoreline, prepared to make another lap over the lake. 

"This bites." Red grunted, peering over the edge of the boat. "Where the heck is this thing? That's what I hate about fishin, it always takes so damn long and half the time you don't even get a bite." 

He walked to the back of the boat and stood beside one of the boat's crew who had been assigned the task of chumming the water. The man was scooping ladle fulls of blood, guts and fish bits from an oversized bucket and carefully dropping it out into the water. It was a monotonous task and the man looked as bored as Hellboy felt. The bucket was still mostly full and Red saw that there were three more still waiting to be opened and ladled off the edge of the boat. 

"Screw this." Red grunted and grabbed the chum bucket away from the man. He hefted it up and spilled all its contents overboard. Tossing the empty container back into the boat he then bent and pried the lids off the others and dumped them as well. 

"Stop the boat." He commanded and after hesitating only a moment the ship's Captain complied and cut the engines. 

With out the drone of the motor and the splash of thier wake the lake grew still and silent. Bureau agents and crew members who had been bored out of thier minds just moments before now stood around tense, excitement and fear growing as they waited. 

Hellboy stood at the railing, watching the water and waiting for something to show. The chum was at first stark against the water, bobbing on the waves and spreading along the sides of the boat. Then the stew began to sink and dissolve in the water and finally, it was gone.  

Red waited. And waited. And finally called it quits. 

"Let's get out of here." He threw up a hand to wave the Captain to start the boat again and turned his back on the railing and walked away. 

After a few moments the Captain stuck his head out the cabin window and shouted, "She's not starting up!" 

With an exhasperated sigh Hellboy shook his head. "Great. Fricken great. I hate stinkin...fishin..." He trailed off when he saw one of the crewmen gaping at him in fear. No, not at him. Behind him. 

Hellboy looked over his shoulder, and then up and turned around to see the snarling face of a creature glaring down right at him. The head was connected to a serpentine neck that just kept rising and rising up out of the water. The beast let out a low gutteral growl and a hiss and reared back, preparing for a lunge. 

Hellboy's shoulders sagged and he clenched his stone fist, "Aw, crap."