The Pittsburgh Incident - Part Two
Feb. 1st, 2011 06:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
open_flameCharacters: Liz Sherman, Hellboy, half a dozen Black Suits
With brief mentions of Jack Harkness, Trevor Broom and Agent Clay
Fandom: Hellboy/Torchwood
Setting: Bump in the Night Verse
Rating: R ( Language, violence and property destruction)
Word Count: 1450
Prompt: AFI – Kill Caustic
All the same, I remain the one you blame and I'm demonized, purified, justified as you let yourself show.
Part One
Hellboy's tail swiped out like a snake, catching the falling bit of dilapidated ceiling before it hit Liz. “Thanks.” She said so casually you'd have thought the demon had just bummed her a smoke instead of saving her from taking a chunk of roof tile to the head.
“Don' mention it.” Red tossed the chunk aside and continued to play follow the leader with the much younger agent. Orderly and by the book, a small troupe of black suited federal agents followed the pair with guns at the ready and communication lines open so Liz and Hellboy could hear all the business talk. Sector this, protocol that and so on. A bunch of shit that didn't matter if you asked Red. The Captain was the one who always worried about that shit, and he wasn't here.
“Place needs a maid.” Red coughed as he kept both eyes on Liz, still not sure the girl...and to him she was a girl...wasn't getting to far ahead. Father would kick his ass if he let her get hurt, and so would Clay. Not that Red would ever allow anything to happen to Elizabeth Sherman. He'd die for her, lay down his life without so much as a blink in hesitation.
Hellboy loved her...and she had no idea.
“We'll send clean up later.” Liz shouted back as she pressed on, kicking a few old chunks of metal that had been used in the foundry daily before it fell into disrepair. Red's joke was lost on her, because she was too busy making her way to something that clearly didn't belong there.
“Pretty.” Liz reached down to pick up the remarkably clean metal box from the corner of the room. It was larger than one of Red's cats, and so she had to holster her gun and make a fireball for light after she set her flashlight aside. It was locked, and covered with raised designs that made no sense to her. “How'd you get here...?” She whispered as she coiled her fingers around the lid, waiting for the crackle of the communicators and the black suits reporting to headquarters that they'd found the target.
But the crackle or the voices never came.
“Fu-!” Liz could feel the fireball get snuffed out between her back and the concrete wall someone slammed her against. It was dark as a result, inky blackness that somehow the moon and stars that should have been trickling through the broken roof couldn't break.
Liz choked at the hand crushing her windpipe, but had enough strength to reach her hands up, coating them in blue fire before she wrapped her fingers around the wrists that held her. The fire light up the face that was inches from her instantly.
Smith? Agent...Smith?
The shock that a member of her own team was trying to strangle her was short lived. Liz's fire took the lead, as it always did when she needed to be protected. Her arms and legs first before the rest of her until she was a scorching supernova like figure. The room was illuminated now, the cool blue light allowing Liz to see why the rest of her team wasn't coming to her aid.
Red was pinned to the floor, laying on his stomach and howling like a wounded dog as the female agent from earlier wrapped her claw like hands around his neck. He tried to stand and shake her off, but the blond guy who usually dealt with documentation was too fast for him. A steel rod from a nearby barrel sank though Red's shoulder with more force than was humanly possible. The floor was solid concrete...what the hell? The demon screamed against the floor he was pinned to as sticky blood poured from his wound. Each time he attempted to push off the floor, another suit would climb on top of him, pushing his face down so he had no choice but to taste the blood that was escaping his shoulder.
As Red's pained screaming turned to blood choked gurgles of growing weakness, each and every suit snapped to attention. Each person's unique eye color had been replaced with a glowing green. Their individual voices, from blue collar drawl to Jersey shore to slightly British were replaced with deep throaty growls as they started to chant in an indecipherable language.
Liz readied herself to go for her gun when Smith released her, but the man...if he was even a man anymore...never loosened his grip. Instead, he kept Liz in the superhuman choke hold, lifting her from the wall before dragging her across the room like a child with a rag doll. Her fire, which should have made Smith loosen his hold, was ignored. Ignored by all of them because she wasn't the one they wanted.
Liz listened, as best she could given that the lack of blood to her head was making her disoriented. None of what the suits were chanting made a lick of sense. It wasn't Latin...maybe an old version of Gaelic. Germanic maybe...
She whimpered like a scolded child as Smith flung her against the wall and held her by her throat again. That was a broken arm...maybe worse. She didn't have time to cry out in pain from the shattered bones before the only discernible words that rang out from all six suits mouths stopped her struggling.
Release him...release the Son of the Fallen One .
“No...” Liz gasped as she clawed at Smith's wrists with renewed energy. The (former) black suit paid as much attention to her as a soundly sleeping man would to a fly landing on his head. That is to say none.
The chanting stopped abruptly as the remaining suits picked up the box. Eerily calm, all but Smith marched in a line over to the barely conscious Hellboy. A rookie who was on his first mission reached down to pull the steel rod from Red's body, kicking the 800 pound demon to his back as easily as he would have done to a paper cup in the street.
Hellboy, as always, had a sarcastic comment up his sleeve. “Coulda jus' told me to step back, boys.” He laughed, then winced when he coughed, splattering hot blood all over the faces of the suits who loomed down over him. The pain that clouded his mind took a backseat just long enough for Hellboy to turn his head to see Smith pinning Liz to the wall. Her slender legs, looking even thinner because of the halo of fire around her, didn't have the strength to kick as she dangled there.
“Crap...” Hellboy muttered as he met her eyes. He tried to push off the suits holding him down, but the pool of blood that had left him made it impossible to fight five possessed agents. He growled in pain before his head was slammed on the floor by a suit backhanding him. They stopped, studying him a moment before they hissed out something in unison.
Anung Un Rama .
“What's that...some kinda band?” Red cocked his head to look at the people above him. Hellboy, perhaps rather fortunately, was currently unaware of his true name. However, the tone in his former coworkers’ voices was enough to tell him he was, simply put, totally fucked.
The female agent slide the box across the floor, allowing it to stop near Hellboy's bloodied face. “For me...?” Red's resolve to be a smart ass was fading, but he wasn't going down silently. “Ain't even my birthday.” He quipped as he struggled to turn his head.
Once he finally did, his eyes locked with Liz's. The tiny woman's feet were dangling several inches from the ground as she clutched and pulled on the hands holding her. Again, Hellboy tried to raise himself but couldn't; these assholes were just too strong. But, he could talk...barely.
“JUST DO IT!” Red bellowed with the last of his strength. Liz would have shook her head at Hellboy, if she could. Instead she blinked the stars from her eyes as Smith slammed her skull into the wall in an attempt to knock her out. She ripped her gaze from Hellboy, just long enough to see the pained look in Smith's eyes as what small part of him was left winced from the fire that he finally seemed to notice.
“I...” Liz swallowed a breath as his grip loosened. Angry tears boiled away as soon as they fell as she watched the last of what was Smith become overtaken. It was too little, too late. She couldn't stop it. Not now. Not ever...
No one could hear her over the explosion. She knew they couldn't, but she had to try anyway. She had to say it as the unstoppable fire took hold of her, crumbling the building and rocking the tiny Pittsburgh PA suburbs as several acres were obliterated in an instant.
“I'm...so sorry.”
With brief mentions of Jack Harkness, Trevor Broom and Agent Clay
Fandom: Hellboy/Torchwood
Setting: Bump in the Night Verse
Rating: R ( Language, violence and property destruction)
Word Count: 1450
Prompt: AFI – Kill Caustic
All the same, I remain the one you blame and I'm demonized, purified, justified as you let yourself show.
Part One
Hellboy's tail swiped out like a snake, catching the falling bit of dilapidated ceiling before it hit Liz. “Thanks.” She said so casually you'd have thought the demon had just bummed her a smoke instead of saving her from taking a chunk of roof tile to the head.
“Don' mention it.” Red tossed the chunk aside and continued to play follow the leader with the much younger agent. Orderly and by the book, a small troupe of black suited federal agents followed the pair with guns at the ready and communication lines open so Liz and Hellboy could hear all the business talk. Sector this, protocol that and so on. A bunch of shit that didn't matter if you asked Red. The Captain was the one who always worried about that shit, and he wasn't here.
“Place needs a maid.” Red coughed as he kept both eyes on Liz, still not sure the girl...and to him she was a girl...wasn't getting to far ahead. Father would kick his ass if he let her get hurt, and so would Clay. Not that Red would ever allow anything to happen to Elizabeth Sherman. He'd die for her, lay down his life without so much as a blink in hesitation.
Hellboy loved her...and she had no idea.
“We'll send clean up later.” Liz shouted back as she pressed on, kicking a few old chunks of metal that had been used in the foundry daily before it fell into disrepair. Red's joke was lost on her, because she was too busy making her way to something that clearly didn't belong there.
“Pretty.” Liz reached down to pick up the remarkably clean metal box from the corner of the room. It was larger than one of Red's cats, and so she had to holster her gun and make a fireball for light after she set her flashlight aside. It was locked, and covered with raised designs that made no sense to her. “How'd you get here...?” She whispered as she coiled her fingers around the lid, waiting for the crackle of the communicators and the black suits reporting to headquarters that they'd found the target.
But the crackle or the voices never came.
“Fu-!” Liz could feel the fireball get snuffed out between her back and the concrete wall someone slammed her against. It was dark as a result, inky blackness that somehow the moon and stars that should have been trickling through the broken roof couldn't break.
Liz choked at the hand crushing her windpipe, but had enough strength to reach her hands up, coating them in blue fire before she wrapped her fingers around the wrists that held her. The fire light up the face that was inches from her instantly.
Smith? Agent...Smith?
The shock that a member of her own team was trying to strangle her was short lived. Liz's fire took the lead, as it always did when she needed to be protected. Her arms and legs first before the rest of her until she was a scorching supernova like figure. The room was illuminated now, the cool blue light allowing Liz to see why the rest of her team wasn't coming to her aid.
Red was pinned to the floor, laying on his stomach and howling like a wounded dog as the female agent from earlier wrapped her claw like hands around his neck. He tried to stand and shake her off, but the blond guy who usually dealt with documentation was too fast for him. A steel rod from a nearby barrel sank though Red's shoulder with more force than was humanly possible. The floor was solid concrete...what the hell? The demon screamed against the floor he was pinned to as sticky blood poured from his wound. Each time he attempted to push off the floor, another suit would climb on top of him, pushing his face down so he had no choice but to taste the blood that was escaping his shoulder.
As Red's pained screaming turned to blood choked gurgles of growing weakness, each and every suit snapped to attention. Each person's unique eye color had been replaced with a glowing green. Their individual voices, from blue collar drawl to Jersey shore to slightly British were replaced with deep throaty growls as they started to chant in an indecipherable language.
Liz readied herself to go for her gun when Smith released her, but the man...if he was even a man anymore...never loosened his grip. Instead, he kept Liz in the superhuman choke hold, lifting her from the wall before dragging her across the room like a child with a rag doll. Her fire, which should have made Smith loosen his hold, was ignored. Ignored by all of them because she wasn't the one they wanted.
Liz listened, as best she could given that the lack of blood to her head was making her disoriented. None of what the suits were chanting made a lick of sense. It wasn't Latin...maybe an old version of Gaelic. Germanic maybe...
She whimpered like a scolded child as Smith flung her against the wall and held her by her throat again. That was a broken arm...maybe worse. She didn't have time to cry out in pain from the shattered bones before the only discernible words that rang out from all six suits mouths stopped her struggling.
Release him...release the Son of the Fallen One .
“No...” Liz gasped as she clawed at Smith's wrists with renewed energy. The (former) black suit paid as much attention to her as a soundly sleeping man would to a fly landing on his head. That is to say none.
The chanting stopped abruptly as the remaining suits picked up the box. Eerily calm, all but Smith marched in a line over to the barely conscious Hellboy. A rookie who was on his first mission reached down to pull the steel rod from Red's body, kicking the 800 pound demon to his back as easily as he would have done to a paper cup in the street.
Hellboy, as always, had a sarcastic comment up his sleeve. “Coulda jus' told me to step back, boys.” He laughed, then winced when he coughed, splattering hot blood all over the faces of the suits who loomed down over him. The pain that clouded his mind took a backseat just long enough for Hellboy to turn his head to see Smith pinning Liz to the wall. Her slender legs, looking even thinner because of the halo of fire around her, didn't have the strength to kick as she dangled there.
“Crap...” Hellboy muttered as he met her eyes. He tried to push off the suits holding him down, but the pool of blood that had left him made it impossible to fight five possessed agents. He growled in pain before his head was slammed on the floor by a suit backhanding him. They stopped, studying him a moment before they hissed out something in unison.
Anung Un Rama .
“What's that...some kinda band?” Red cocked his head to look at the people above him. Hellboy, perhaps rather fortunately, was currently unaware of his true name. However, the tone in his former coworkers’ voices was enough to tell him he was, simply put, totally fucked.
The female agent slide the box across the floor, allowing it to stop near Hellboy's bloodied face. “For me...?” Red's resolve to be a smart ass was fading, but he wasn't going down silently. “Ain't even my birthday.” He quipped as he struggled to turn his head.
Once he finally did, his eyes locked with Liz's. The tiny woman's feet were dangling several inches from the ground as she clutched and pulled on the hands holding her. Again, Hellboy tried to raise himself but couldn't; these assholes were just too strong. But, he could talk...barely.
“JUST DO IT!” Red bellowed with the last of his strength. Liz would have shook her head at Hellboy, if she could. Instead she blinked the stars from her eyes as Smith slammed her skull into the wall in an attempt to knock her out. She ripped her gaze from Hellboy, just long enough to see the pained look in Smith's eyes as what small part of him was left winced from the fire that he finally seemed to notice.
“I...” Liz swallowed a breath as his grip loosened. Angry tears boiled away as soon as they fell as she watched the last of what was Smith become overtaken. It was too little, too late. She couldn't stop it. Not now. Not ever...
No one could hear her over the explosion. She knew they couldn't, but she had to try anyway. She had to say it as the unstoppable fire took hold of her, crumbling the building and rocking the tiny Pittsburgh PA suburbs as several acres were obliterated in an instant.
“I'm...so sorry.”
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