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Living Stone
By : AceMaxwell
Category: G through L > Hellboy
Views: 4868 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hellboy and I make no money off this fiction.
Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
Not much of a beta on this one, so point out any glaring mistakes so I can fix them.

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After his fourth unsuccessful attempt to get a hold of someone at the bureau, Hellboy snarled and pulled back his hand to throw the phone. John grabbed his wrist.

"No, no! We'll need it!"

Hellboy let him take the device from him. Too agitated to stay still, he stalked away from the kid and back again, rubbing his wounded shoulder absently. John stayed where he was, clutching the satellite phone to his chest as if it was something precious.

After Hellboy paced the short distance between John and the car a half a dozen times, John said, "I'm sure someone gave her backup."

"Not fast enough. It was there! It was already there. How did it get there so damn fast? They should've had more time to-"

"Hellboy, this isn't going to help her."

Hellboy stopped. He knew the kid was right. He wanted to help Kate, but the bureau was prepared for such emergencies and they were halfway around the world. The only thing he could do was to keep looking for the resurrection site. If the knight was successful in retrieving the bone, then they had less than a day and a half to find it.

"Abe and Liz are in Wells. We need to meet up with them."

"Are they other agents?" John asked.

"Yeah."

"How are we going to get there? The car is dead."

Hellboy glanced at the heap of metal with a scowl. He was quiet as he judged the weight of the jeep and how badly his arm was diminished during the fight. When he'd come to his conclusion, he went to the jeep. Using only his stone hand, he rolled the car onto its side and then back onto its wheels.

It was a mess. Hellboy could tell from first glance that it probably wouldn't start. And, even if it did, it wouldn't drive far. Fluid leaked freely from the undercarriage and the roll bar had collapsed on one side. The damage to the body was extensive, making the jeep look more like a crumpled piece of tin foil than a vehicle.

John walked over to stand at Hellboy's left, joking weakly, "Do you think we could thumb a ride?"

"We'll have to do the next best thing," Hellboy answered, holding his hand out for the phone. "I'll call Abe."

The icthyo sapien picked up almost immediately, "I really hope you can explain where you've been, because Liz is pissed that we got pulled off our assignment."

In the background, Liz shouted, "Is that him?"

"For god's sake, don't give her the phone," Hellboy pleaded even as Liz asked to talk to him. "I just need a ride, Abe."

"I'm sure we can manage some-"

Liz's level, but heated voice overtook Abraham, "You know, the world is ending in other places, Red. We shouldn't have to come cover your ass just because you decided you want some time off. Hey, I'm not done!"

Liz's furious rant faded into the distance as Abe somehow managed to get the phone back, "Where are you?"

"Somewhere on A39 near Dagdea's place."

"I hope you didn't give her anything."

Hellboy intentionally sidestepped the subject, "You should be able to spot us pretty easily. The jeep is a mess and there's a killer pothole in the middle of the road."

"You know what happened last time you-"

"And hell, I'll be sitting there and it's really hard to miss me."

"It took us weeks to clean up from-"

"Abe, will you please just skip the lecture and come get me?"

There was a pause and Hellboy swore he could feel Liz's glare through the phone. "We'll be there in a few hours."

Hellboy shut the phone off and stuck it in his pocket before groping around for a cigar. When he came up empty handed, he went to the jeep and popped open the glove box. There was a half pack of cigarettes sandwiched between the jeep's manual and a spare clip for a Colt pistol. Hellboy shook one of the cigarettes into his palm. As he leaned against the jeep to light up, John reached to peel his jacket off the hole in his shoulder.

"Was there a first-aid kit in the jeep?"

"In the back, but who knows what's left of it." When John went to look for the kit, Hellboy added, "Don't worry about it, Boyscout. It'll heal up on its own."

The kid wasn't dissuaded and reappeared with a cracked box emblazoned with a red cross.

"I'm okay, you really don't have to…"

"Just sit down."

Sticking the cigarette in the corner of his mouth, Hellboy sighed and lowered himself to the grass. He put his back and head on the jeep door, watching the boy dig around in the kit for some tweezers. When John found them, he wiped them off with an alcohol pad and turned his attention to Hellboy's shoulder. His dedicated focus made Hellboy smirk.

"You're never going to find all the splinters."

"Maybe so," John said without looking up from his task. "But I can at least get the big ones."

John picked for several minutes, wiping each wooden shard onto a piece of gauze before he went in for the next one. Hellboy waited until John had pulled out a large sliver before he tapped the ash off the end of his cigarette, making sure to blow the smoke to the side so he didn't get it in the kid's face. His mind roamed endlessly over Kate and the bureau while he watched the kid work.

When John sat back on his heels to get a new piece of gauze, the kid scolded him, "You're going to make yourself sick if you keep thinking about it."

"I am not," Hellboy grumbled, but tried to focus on going through the known standing stone circles. There were more than a few possibilities. "Those stones you saw in Dagdea's head, how tall were they?"

John propped his hand on Hellboy's chest as he leaned in close to find the remaining splinters, "They were taller than everybody standing near them, so twelve, maybe fifteen feet tall. Why does that matter?"

"Narrows the search."

Hellboy stared at the kid's lips when they pursed in concentration. The very tip of John's tongue touched his upper lip as he tried to get a grip on one of the smaller wood fragments. Hellboy wanted him. He already knew how perfect being inside the kid felt and he wanted to be with him as often as they could find an available bed, but there were so many things that made that impossible. The bureau had a long-standing rule about not dating fellow agents, not to mention that he was far too old for John. The more Hellboy thought about it, the more reasons he could find that dating John was a bad idea. Thing was, no matter how many reasons there were, Hellboy still wanted him.

When John seemed satisfied with his work, he disinfected the wound with something that made Hellboy's tail twist and wrapped his shoulder in gauze. He tied the end around the edge of the bandage then glanced up at Hellboy through his lashes. Hellboy's mouth went dry. He started to say something that would kill whatever the kid was thinking, but John surged forward before he could get a word out. The kid's lips crashed against his open mouth and Hellboy's human hand came up to tangle in the boy's hair.

Without realizing it, Hellboy deepened the kiss, pulling John closer. The kid was practically in his lap, one hand braced against his chest and the other wrapped tightly around Hellboy's neck. Hellboy's tongue slid against John's and the boy groaned. It was a deep, desperate sound that made Hellboy's blood boil. His stone hand went to the small of John's back, bringing him flush against Hellboy's chest and pinning John's arm between them. He could feel the boy's fingers curl against his skin as their tongues fought and tangled.

They parted so John could take in a quick gasp of air and Hellboy's head cleared. He pulled the kid back, separating their flushed bodies and feeling very cold for it.

"Kid…"

While he tried to think of the right thing to say, John cut in, "Don't shoot me down yet, just think about it." The kid put his fingers to Hellboy's mouth and urged, "Please, just think about it."

Falling victim to John's pleading stare, Hellboy finally nodded. The warm smile he got from John was well worth it. Still wearing his content little smirk, the kid started work on Hellboy's other wounds.

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When the BPRD van rolled into view, Hellboy and John were both leaning on the jeep playing I Spy. The game wasn't going well because all they could see were trees and grass and road. Oddly, John found that he wasn't bored. Sitting with Hellboy was very companionable despite the tension that floated between them.

The demon was processing a half-dozen things in his head while he played their mindless game. He was thinking about the location of the standing stones, and Kate's condition, and John's kiss. John couldn't pick up any details since Hellboy was keeping them to himself, but it was more than the demon usually let him see. John felt a little swell of pride.

He continued to scour their surroundings for something new to use, "I spy something red."

"It's me," Hellboy said without much effort.

"No, it was you last time-"

"The blood on the cement."

"Shit."

As the van came closer, Hellboy climbed to his feet and shook his coat out. John stayed seated, not really trusting his throbbing head enough to get up quickly. When he'd had headaches like this in the past, he'd been known to black out if he turned his head too fast, let alone if he jumped upright. He pushed his feet underneath him and slid his back along the battered surface of the door until he was standing. Hellboy arched one brow at him, but didn't comment on it.

The charcoal colored van slanted off of the road just behind their jeep and petite redhead jumped out of the driver's seat. Her full lips were pulled together in a scowl that made John want to hide behind his demonic companion. Something John had never encountered before radiated from the woman. Whatever it was, it seemed too powerful to come from such a small person.

She was an inch or so taller than John and was thin, but curved in all the right places. Her figure was draped in heavy military gear and an olive green jacket with the BPRD logo on the shoulder and her hair was pulled back in a severe ponytail. John didn't have to touch her mind to feel her barely contained anger. There was a light glowing in the back of her eyes, making them look like wolf's eyes caught in a beam of light.

Before she could speak, Hellboy asked, "Have you heard anything from the bureau?"

She came within a few steps of them, glaring at Hellboy then turning her oddly illuminated eyes to John. When her gaze connected with his, he saw a flash of fire and heard a screaming child. The brief, but vivid memory made John fall back against the jeep. He averted his eyes to the grass as he tried to manage to the new flare of pain her memory brought with it.

"Yes," she practically growled, looking up at Hellboy. "Kate's in the ICU along with three other agents. Whatever this thing was, it hit fast and hard."

"It was an Unseelie knight, same thing that attacked us."

The woman glanced at the ruined jeep and around at the empty pastures before turning towards the van, "It's clear, Abe."

The back doors of the van opened and the other agent stepped out onto the road. Having encountered so many weird things in one day, John wasn't particularly disturbed by the agent's appearance. Though he looked like he might be part fish, Abe wasn't any stranger than Hellboy or the gigantic green knight. He was an average height for a man and very lean, dressed in clothes that echoed the woman's gear, but in all black. Despite the cold air, he was wearing a short sleeve shirt that revealed a set of fins running from his elbows to his wrists. The gills standing out from his neck quivered constantly, occasionally flexing as he took a breath. John followed the black pattern that flowed over Abe's cerulean skin, but stopped when Abe returned his gaze.

"What did you do to Kate's jeep?" Abe asked, resting his hands casually on his belt and gun holster.

Hellboy scratched the back of his head, "Jeeps roll easy, not much else to say."

"Fuck the jeep, I want to know where you've been," the woman John assumed was Liz snarled. Those luminescent eyes fixed on John again and he felt the air around him getting hot. "And who the hell is that?"

Abe went to the front of the jeep and crouched to look underneath it. He slid his fingers delicately over the bent fender as he examined the vehicle. "I don't think we can tow it. The front will fall off halfway to Wells."

"They'll have to send a flatbed," Hellboy threw at Abe and stepped between Liz and John. The moment his body was blocking John from view, the air cooled. "I was stuck in a Fay court, and he," Hellboy jabbed the air with his stone thumb, aiming it in John's direction, "is John Myers. New guy."

John eased his head out from around Hellboy's arm, "Hello."

Her mind tumbled quickly through thoughts, some of which John caught and others that he couldn't touch before they were gone. She was suspicious of him because she thought he might be a psychic and shocked by Hellboy's need to step between them. For a split second, she wondered if there was something going on between them, but she dismissed it for the unfinished job that hung over all of them.

The bright glow faded from her eyes, leaving behind deep brown irises that were flecked with gold. "It's a good bet that whatever your knight was after, he has it now."

"It was a bone, and yeah, he probably does. They can't resurrect the Shade King until tomorrow night, so we've got a little less than twenty-one hours to track them down."

Liz dug a pack of cigarettes out of the back pocket of her jeans and shook it until a half inch of filter was sticking out of the foil. She brought the entire package to her mouth and took the cigarette between her lips. Holding two fingers beneath the tip of the cigarette, she lit it with a plume of fire that hovered just above her nails.

John's interest peaked instantly. He'd never encountered anyone with a kinesis, though his frantic research in high school suggested that they did exist. The bureau was proof enough that there were others like him, but it was nice to see someone in person. John opened his mouth to say as much, but something in her mind warned him against it. She referred to her abilities as 'it' and 'the uncontrollable thing'. The fire wrought havoc on her family, on her life, so John was fairly certain she didn't want to talk about it.

Hellboy continued to brief them on what he knew, even as John secretly marveled in Liz's pyrokinesis. "So, if they get all the bones together, we're screwed. We've got to find the standing stones where they're hosting the ceremony."

"There are hundreds of stone circles in England, how can we possibly-"

Hellboy interrupted Abe, "Boyscout is going to read the mind of the accomplice."

Liz waved her hand through the cloud of smoke she'd just exhaled, "Wait, what accomplice?"

"The one who helped her get the bones out of the iron box. Whoever it is has to be human or they never would've gotten into the box."

"You think it's somebody at the church?"

"It's the best lead I've got so far."

Liz crossed one arm underneath her elbow and took another drag on the cigarette. The tip flared, burning faster than a cigarette typically would. She flicked the brown, filter end to knock the ash off. "And you're sure junior here can find this person?"

"I'm not a child," John griped, any fear he had of her power lost in his annoyance. "If you put me in the same town as him, I'll find him."

Though her expression remained neutral, her voice was heavy with doubt, "You think so, huh?"

John could feel Hellboy preparing to fend her off, but he didn't want the demon to stand up for him all the time. He scraped a few things out of Liz's head to use as proof, "You have special arrangements with the cook at the bureau because you don't like any of your meals to be prepared with butter. The guy who replaces him on Tuesday and Thursday won't prepare anything separate, so you eat meals out of the mini fridge in your room those days. You haven't told Red, wait, Hellboy that you and Abe are dating, though it's been going on for months."

"What?" Hellboy interjected.

The glow returned to Liz's eyes and her cigarette went up in a flash. When Abe came over to stand at her side, he commented, "Well, he is good."

John didn't want to push it much farther, but he had so much more he could use, "It started shortly after the Hyperborean case in 2002 when he rescued you from those underground creatures. It was tentative at first, but he pursued you."

"When the hell were you guys going to tell me all this?"

Liz threw the charred end of the filter on the road and stomped back to the van, growling, "When the time was right, Red."

"It started after you left," Abe explained as they all watched Liz get into the driver's seat and slam the door.

"I left because I was mad at Manning, not at you guys. You could've called."

"You don't always carry a phone."

Hellboy got quiet at that. His fight with Manning came to the forefront of his mind. John studied the demon's profile as he watched the memory. The director of the bureau had authorized a bomb to be fitted into one of the other supernatural agents and had given Hellboy the detonator in case something happened. It rubbed Hellboy in all the wrong ways then and still did now. The homunculus, Roger, had panicked when he was awakened and killed one of the BPRD's men, but hadn't shown an ounce of aggression outside of missions since that moment.

From the few days John had spent with the demon, he knew that one of Hellboy's biggest pet peeves was being treated as anything other than a human and suggesting that he should approach another agent with that kind of mindless fear had set Hellboy off. The demon hadn't screamed at the man, just quit the moment the mission was done. Considering that the bureau was Hellboy's life, his actions spoke louder than he ever could.

Liz rolled down the window, shouting, "Get your asses in the van. I'm leaving."

Abe chuckled and complied, but Hellboy hung back and John stayed with him.

"What made you return to the bureau?" John asked.

Hellboy shrugged, "I was doing the same work out there that I was doing here, except I knew there were people here who needed me to watch their backs."

"Like Roger."

"Yeah."

Liz's annoyed tone cut the air again, "Now, Red, or I'll make you walk back."

Hellboy cast a glance at John with a smirk. The thought came through clearly, as though Hellboy was directing it at him, 'You get used to her.'

John laughed.

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When they got back to the church, mass was in the middle of the evening prayers. The agents could hear the collective voice of the choir on the open lawn. Hellboy recognized the hymn, but didn't know all the words, which was rare. His adoptive father had been a devout Catholic and Hellboy spent a lot of his early years learning Trevor Bruttenholm's faith. It was possible that he wasn't more familiar with the hymn because the Wells church was Anglican instead of Roman Catholic. It was a branch of the Roman Catholic faith, but there were a few differences.

Ignoring the disdainful looks of the life-size statues guarding the church's exterior, Hellboy led the group through the entryway. Abe had donned his typical trench coat, hat, sunglasses, and fake beard to hide himself from the public eye. Inside the worship center, Hellboy knew that Abe could be running around completely naked and no one would notice, because the attention of the congregation would undoubtedly fall on Hellboy.

There were a few gasps from the closest pews as Hellboy entered the church. Some of the faithful jumped out of their seats, running into the legs of others as they tried to back away from the demon. Others stayed rooted in the pew, their lips moving with chants that they hoped would defend them against evil. Others still crossed themselves or started crying. They noticed him slowly, the panic rippling through the crowd as people turned to discover what the others were whispering about. One woman in a blue velvet dress shrieked and the remainder of the crowd turned in their seats.

"Gotta love mass," Hellboy grumbled.

On his left, Liz's slim frame was tense and rigid. She scanned the crowd carefully, one hand resting on her belt in front of her gun, the other curled in a fist by her hip. Hellboy appreciated her concern, but even if the masses did become homicidal and throw themselves at him to protect the church, he couldn't let Liz shoot them.

Something soft brushed his human hand and Hellboy looked down to find John's fingers sliding through his palm. Hellboy tightened his grip around the gesture, silently thanking John for it. Neither of them acknowledged it otherwise. Somehow, the kid had picked up on Hellboy's insecurities in a matter of days when it took most people years to learn them. Actually, years weren't enough for some, even for some of the other psychics that worked with him. Hellboy tried to let people's reactions roll off of him, tried to make sure his pain was carefully buried, but he wasn't always successful.

At the front of the room, the priest chanting at the pulpit faltered and his choirs followed suit. The beautiful swell of voices broke apart like a wave hitting a cliff. Fragments of hymn floated down to them for several seconds as the last dedicated singer realized she was performing a solo where the hymnal didn't call for it. The bishop rose from a chair near the altar as the group of agents approached.

"Bishop Dunn, we need to talk," Hellboy stated in the trembling silence.

Liz reinforced him with a simple, "Now."

The graying clergyman kept his voice low, though it carried easily in the room, "Son, we're in the middle of mass." He smoothed one hand down the chest of his elaborate gold and white robes as if to bring attention to the ceremonial garb.

"I know, father, it can't wait."

The other priest was frozen at the pulpit with his arms raised over his head for whatever rite he'd been in the middle of chanting. As the congregation began to panic and move towards the door, the priest's frightened stare finally broke. He turned to the faithful and soothed them the best he could. Though he didn't look nearly as old as the bishop, he seemed to have plenty of experience with public speaking. His quiet words of reassurance and dismissal got the masses moving towards the door in a relatively civilized manner.

"Perhaps we should go to my office," Bishop Dunn sighed, leading the way down the side hallway.

Hellboy stopped at the slight tug on his hand. John wasn't moving. His eyes were fixed on the open doorway that lead into the crypts, his skin a pasty white like all the blood had drained from it.

"There's something wrong," John whispered.

Hellboy looked to the crypt entrance, trusting John's instincts. He couldn't feel anything out of place yet, but the kid was much more sensitive to it than he was. "Go with the bishop," Hellboy told Liz, letting go of the kid's hand as John moved towards the altar. "Have him gather everybody that works here so John can read them."

Liz didn't comment on the handholding thing, for which Hellboy was grateful. He knew he'd hear about it later, but he'd get a reprieve until the case was wrapped up. "What is it?"

"I don't know yet."

John slipped under the rope that cordoned off the crypts and Hellboy jogged to catch up with him. By the time he got down the first set of stairs, the boy was nowhere in sight. "Damn it," Hellboy grunted and picked up his speed.

He ran down the second set of stairs, not bothering with the light switch. Even in complete darkness, he could still see and he had a good idea of where the kid was headed. Hellboy took the first left, the rows of the dead whipping by him. Ahead of him, he could hear the slap of John's tennis shoes. The kid's silhouette became a dark smear on a field of orange light as something in the round crypt caught fire.

Hellboy entered the room on John's heels. The interior of the stone sarcophagus was a bonfire. Hellboy could smell the gasoline that fueled it, could practically taste the heavy odor on the air. Within the blaze, the skeleton of the guardian glowed with white-blue flames. The shriek of the departing spirit was quiet to Hellboy, but John fell to his knees and clapped his hands over his ears. Hellboy kicked over the empty can of petrol as he came further into the room. He moved around the defiled crypt and knelt to pick up a still smoking match. The charcoal head crumbled between his fingers.

John choked on a gasp and looked up to lock eyes with Hellboy, "He's still here."

"Where?"

"In the crypts. He's running." The kid's gaze got distant, almost glazed as he talked. "But he's going deeper, not towards the entrance."

"There's no way out back there."

"Yes there is."

Hellboy hauled the boy to his feet and pushed him towards the closer of the two doors, "Show me or we're going to lose him."

They sprinted through the catacombs. As they wound deeper into the tunnels and the light from the fire faded, the boy slowed to a jog and put his hands out to find the walls. He reached past the wall and into one of the hollowed out resting places, but Hellboy grabbed his wrist before he could touch a corpse.

"I can see in the dark," he said, guiding the kid's hand to his jacket. "Just hang on and tell me where to go."

"Okay."

Hellboy struggled to keep to the kid's pace. His longer stride occasionally came back far enough that John tripped over his heels. After the third time John nearly crashed into Hellboy's back, he loosened his grip and let his fingers trail to the hem of the jacket. The distance it put between them helped.

The catacombs narrowed. Hellboy followed John's every direction, but couldn't hear or see anyone else. The walls got close enough that Hellboy was scraping against them as he ran. Behind him, John's breathing was heavy. The kid clearly wasn't a sprinter. Fortunately, the floor had a gentle downward slope that made it easier.

"Left here," John instructed.

Hellboy turned down the narrow passageway, bushing away some low hanging cobwebs as he passed through the arch. There was nothing at the end of the hall but a large medieval engraving of the church and bishop. Parading across the bottom edge were a dozen mounted knights with frozen banners flying overhead.

"Dead end, kid," Hellboy said, trying not to sound as annoyed as he felt.

John pushed past him, which was no easy feat in the narrow hall, "No, it's not."

He felt the wall blindly, working his fingers across the carvings to an edge that was worn smooth. Hellboy realized what it was before John could find the hidden latch. The door swung away from them slowly, the sound of grinding stone filling the passage. Hellboy slid John behind him, in case their quarry was waiting on the other side of the door. The tunnel beyond was empty.

"It leads to the bishop's palace. He thinks he's safe now," John explained in a whisper as he grabbed the edge of Hellboy's jacket.

Hellboy entered the tunnel, careful to keep his footsteps light. If his quarry thought it was safe, then there was no need to run, "He must be really damn fast if we couldn't catch him."

"No, he just got enough of a head start."

A flight of carved stone steps led them to another door, this one a relatively modern replacement made of heavy wood. Hellboy turned the knob and eased it open, wincing as daylight flooded the tunnel. The room it opened on was a sitting room of some kind. Four tall windows along one wall let sun touch every corner of the vast room. Despite that, the room seemed very dark. It could've been the deep green paint on the walls, or the thick, velvet curtains that draped from ceiling to floor, but Hellboy thought it was something else. It was concealing someone dangerous.

There wasn't much cover in the room. Two brown leather couches crouched over a plush rug with a half dozen wing chairs clustered near them. A metal flashlight lay on the seat of one of the chairs. The only sound in the room was the steady ticking of the grandfather clock on the far side of the room.

Hellboy stepped into the open, scanning the empty space cautiously. He removed John's hand from his jacket and motioned with an open palm for him to stay where he was.

"But…" John started to say.

Hellboy clamped his hand over the kid's mouth before he got any farther. The kid gave him a hard glare for it and yanked his wrist. Figuring John knew something he didn't, he let the kid draw his hand away.

"He's not going to attack us," John said and went to the wall with the windows.

John threw back one of the floor length curtains, scaring the figure behind it enough that he let out a shriek. Stunned, Hellboy furrowed his brow at the small child. It was the altar boy he'd met when he'd arrived at the church. The bishop had called him Christopher.

The smell of urine hit his nose and he looked down in time to see a dark stain spread on the front of the child's pants. John crouched down next to the boy and rubbed soothing circles on his back.

"It's okay," John crooned.

The little boy hiccupped and rubbed his fists against his eyes, "I'm… I'm sorry Mr. Hellboy, sir."

"What were you doin' down there? Last time I checked, kids were supposed to be afraid of dead people."

The little blonde hiccupped again, "I play down there all the time. God has their souls now. There's no need to be afraid of bones."

John looked up at Hellboy, "He smells like gasoline."

"Did you set that fire in the crypt?"

Christopher nodded miserably.

John's eyes went wide. When he spoke again, his words were near a whisper, "He was just doing what the bishop told him."

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Insert dramatic music here.

I'm thinking this will wrap up in another three or four chapters, but I've been wrong about that before so maybe I should stop guessing. I think I might be writing some Fruits Basket fan fiction after this. Weird, right? I doubt I'm done with Hellboy, but this other plot bunny won't leave me alone.
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Living Stone	By : AceMaxwell Category: G through L > Hellboy Views: 4868 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hellboy and I make no money off this fiction.

Living Stone