RIGHT HAND OF DOOM

As the cambion approached the all-consuming blackness of the mirror, there was nary a reflection to be found. The only way to see it would be to be closer, which was responded in kind by reaching a hand out to meet it and gaze into the nothingness before him for answers. However, just as soon as hand would touch the cool surface, it instead found itself pressed against the stone wall behind where the mirror once was. Gone. Just like it had never been there to begin with.

Yes, yes, the architecture is truly lovely. You'll have all the time in the world to appreciate it after you slay the Princess. Come along now, there's only one way to go and it's through that door.

Ah, the silent treatment. Gotcha. Won't say another word unless you ask, boss. Can't let Him know more than He needs to, I like your style.

With that nuisance lulled into silence, we continue onward to the door and toward the base...ment.

The Narrator's pause is accentuated by, perhaps unsurprisingly, a torch-lit stairwell ascending the grand tower to their destination. The Princess's chambers overhead. Something that, unsurprisingly, threw the Narrator for another bemused loop, if his muttering and the faintest sounds of turning paper were any indication.

Right, right, apologies, here we are. As you ascend the staircase, hand braced to either the stone wall to your right or the sturdy banister to your left, it leaves you to wonder the purpose of trapping someone as nefarious as the Princess. With the occasional view of the dead guardsmen outside, some of which one could swear have moved since the last opportunity to peer outside, the contrast is startling.

Frankly, with how many stairs it takes to get up and down this tower, maybe slaying the Princess would be doing her a favor.

Her voice, melodic with an icy chill beneath, dances down the stairway like tinkling glass.

Admittedly, there being gaps in the Narrator's own knowledge was something becoming increasingly more evident with each new thing they encountered, as he fumbles once again upon opening the door to the 'basement' only to find a staircase going up the tower they could clearly see from outside. His 'script' was becoming useless.

Why that was, Hellboy couldn't say- stories that found their way to the Wyrd were finished stories, solved plots, understood lessons. This one was shifting in rapid fashion, warped by new outlooks... he'd never heard nor seen anything quite like it.

The length of stairs afforded him some time to ruminate on that, until his thoughts were interrupted by the voice, one he'd heard before and yet felt new to him all the same, calling down the stairs.

Sounding as changed as everything else in this story.

"... yeah, tell me about it." He answered back, loudly and clearly, as he continues up the stairs- signalling both his presence and his identity as he continued up the stairs towards the mentioned door.

Yeah, nothing about the skeleton guards? Hoping if you don't mention them that we won't see them stab us in the back?

Don't be silly, I just... they aren't supposed to be here.

Well, they clearly are.

Yes, I can see that, but... It doesn't matter. The inanimate forces, no doubt some macabre attempt by the Princess to stave off would-be heroes, are of little consequence to you. Even if she had done a finer job with her wicked troops, they would have stood no chance against your might, and this only furthers the surety that you are the one that can save the world.

I have to admit, he spun a good "your victory has reinvigorated your spirits" yarn there. If he hadn't killed us the last time, maybe we'd even listen to him.

Again with this last time nonsense... I'm just going to ignore you, we don't have time for your esoteric ramblings. Ahem. With nothing to stand to your might and little else to do outside for this very reason, you make your way into the cabin.

This inside of the cabin is well-lit, twin braziers crackling flames bringing warmth to this otherwise dreary stone building. The inside is larger than what the wood exterior would give one the impression of. Carpet, as red as blood, covers the space from one doorway to another. The only other thing of note in this room was an ornate table, housing a pristine blade.

The windows, trimmed in gold, show the exterior in all it's eerie majesty. More skeletons, the failings of guards attempted, loom. From the inside, one could easily believe they were surrounded on all sides by forces at the ready to halt any and all attempts to escape them...

So, he had to do his best to keep his actual worded thoughts to a minimum as he took in the sight of the 'cabin's' interior, deliberately not straying from the Narrator's own explanation, even as he squinted at the one thing he'd failed to explain.

"Nice place, dead guardsmen aside." He said, as he first approached the table and, without much hesitation or even barely a glance, he swipes the pristine dagger and slipped it into his jacket pocket once again... in the same flipped manner he'd done so the first time, but he hardly paid any mind to it for it to be cause for any attention.

What drew his attention more, was the massive mirror adorning the wall, it practically seeming to have been made with him in mind as it stood in sharp contrast to the rest of the room... the darkness in it evoking imagery of black scrying mirrors in his mind.

The clearing of throat is cut off by the vision of passing trees and general forest environs, until Hellboy himself in a clearing. At the end of the path, true to His word, was a... cabin. Where he'll find the Princess within.

Of course, what the Narrator was describing to him now wasn't even close to accurate. What had once been a cabin was still there, true, but it seems somewhere, somehow a tower had been erected in it's back- wood splitting and giving way like it had been added onto it haphazardly. Like it had just burst forth to claim it's territory.

Evoking the imagery of a fairytale princess trapped in the tower, no doubt.

Now, a warning, before you go any further...

She will lie, she will cheat, and she will do everything within her power to stop you from slaying her. Don't believe a word she says.

Right, like slamming a door shut and killing us wasn't cheating. We're already wise to your tricks. Though, I must say, that was an impressive one.

Ignore him, I don't even know what he's on about.

A voice, decidedly not the cambion's own and decidedly also not the Narrator spoke up.

The story had been reset, back to the beginning, the 'Narrator' reading off the same script he'd probably tried to read to him when he'd first arrived here... but, the impact of his presence in the story before had nonetheless changed it even on a 'clean' slate.

Something all the more proven as another voice chimed in, neither his nor the Narrator's, to butt heads on his behalf.

He did his best to ignore the both of them as he took in the sight of the scene before him, committing to memory what the Narrator's script had failed to commit to word; first to the cabin with a tower seeming to have just burst up from the Earth through it's back...

... and then, as he takes a few steps in, downward to the cabin's apparent 'defenses', a sight that makes his head cock to the side.

"What, ya not gonna introduce me to your friends out here?" Hellboy asks aloud as he looked down at the closest armored skeleton, looking it up and down for any distinctive crests or colors, and after presumably none are found, reaching out with his stony right hand and giving it's chest a somewhat firm tap with his finger.

Enough to rock it a bit, perhaps even make it crumble to the ground, but either way more than enough to determine that they were very much dead and not about to spring to life against him.

It was a facsimile of a defensive force, with battle positions he vaguely recognized... like entering an important spot in the Wyrd.

The cambion's body was a suitable cushion for the startled Princess's fall, slamming atop the man with a gasp of air sucking into her lungs as she tumbled off him, generally no worse for wear than when they'd started. A small gash on her cheek, perhaps, from the chain's jagged edge hitting her, but otherwise... 'thankfully', unharmed. Though she's quick to ignore her own self's survival to check on her savior, eyes widening at the sight of him as eyes grow bleary with the beginnings of tears.

All of that bravado and self-assurance gone in the face of a foolish man, dying in a basement she was now no less trapped in than before.

"No, no, no! C'mon, Red, we were so close! You can't die! I-I'm sure I can-"

But whatever the Princess's plans were to miraculously save the cambion, they fell on deaf ears.

Everything goes dark, and you die. I hope it was worth it.

You're on a path in the woods; and at the end of that path is a cabin; and in the basement of that cabin is a Princess.

You're here to slay her.

If you don't, it will be the end of the world.

A vision neither quite in his head nor quite seen, before he's back in the woods, boots on dirt with everything below his neck once again functional and with feeling, injuries quite evidently erased.

Most prominently of all, however, was Him- the voice, disembodied, and yet entirely familiar to him. The attitude, the language, the energy of it as it rang loud and unimpeded in his skull. This was the feeling that had pleaded and begged and raged and mocked within him in those final moments before everything went black.

Now, perfectly 'audible', for lack of better words.

"You sure ya don't wanna do it yourself? Seem perfectly capable of wanton violence from where I'm standing." Much less from what he'd experienced, as he looks down at his hand and flexes his fingers, testing the feeling in it and finding nothing wrong at all.

Normally, were he to 'die' or anything close enough to it in the Wyrd, he'd be drawn out back to the material. That didn't happen.

Whatever he'd fallen into, it wanted to keep him here.

Regardless of all that, regardless of whatever the storyteller in his head bawked in response, his boots would start their march down the path, slow and casual enough to walk-and-talk.

No no, that's not right at all! That blade should have been firmly lodged between her ribs, yet here she was firmly grasping the handle of the dagger. Carefully pulling it from his grasp so as to not cut him on the way towards her. Examined the pristine blade of the implement as Hellboy stood in petulant denial of his reason for being here. To Slay the Princess. Something that became so-much-more difficult now that she was not only freed from her chains but also armed with the very tool meant to slay her!

"Thank you," came that wicked voice, amidst his lost train of thought. "What we have here is based on trust, so that means a lot."

The Princess, once more with all the cards in her hand, stood there for a moment herself. A blade that, with just a simple twist of the wrist, could so easily send Hellboy tumbling into the inky darkness of the basement below. . .

Yet, that's. . . not what happens, either?

No, no, what is going on here? Hand lowers, sliding the blade into one of the links of chain until it seems fastened sturdily enough in it's makeshift sheath, as the Princess looked through the open door to the cabin she hadn't seen since her time before this basement. Out the window to the trees and stars beyond, which she had been deprived of for so long. That she had been taken from, and took a step toward her escape-

Alas, it seemed fate had something else planned for the Princess, as the door, with little fanfare, swung back to meet her. Crashing into her frail form with all it's might and causing her to lose footing with her dainty heeled slipper. Gravity began taking care of the rest as door slammed shut with a click, the Princess's body coming down the steps with enough force to potentially send them both crashing back to the dirt floor below.

All to know now that he wasn't alone in his own head, confirmed suspicions affording him the right to prepare himself around it.

So he could better help the person that hadn't attempted to take his agency away from him despite all the power and reason to do so, the one who'd firmly earned his trust in this situation.

Eyes refocusing as she turned, readying himself to follow her into the world that awaited them beyond this cabin, dangerous as it was...

Only for danger to more immediately present itself as the door at the top of the stairs suddenly came slamming shut right in the princess' face, fiery eyes going wide and cigar slipping from between his lips as he watched her be knocked backwards, too late to stop it.

"Son of a...!" Before he could even finish that much, the Cambion is knocked cleanly from his feet by the princess' body crashing into his, the both of them airborne and falling back towards the cellar.

Hellboy was a competent man, that much was obvious, he could have easily saved himself from the situation if he wanted to... the problem, of course, being that he couldn't save himself from a hard fall and ensure the princess was saved at the same time. He was the only thing available to break the fall for her, after all.

And, at the end of the day, he's a man always quicker to think of others before himself- as instead of twisting to roll and catch himself, his arms wrap themselves protectively around the princess as they both continue their fall, safeguarding her safe landing.

Just hoping that this doesn't hurt too much before-

CRAAAAAAAAAAACK!

Nearly as soon as he hits the stone floor of the basement, his arms would go limp around her- the angle of the fall having been practically designed for him to land directly upon his neck first.

Chased just as quickly by the back of his skull, which found the stone of this masonry to be sturdier than expected as there's a wet splash of crimson fluid that paints the floor around it as soon as it makes impact, all feeling in his body fading as his vision grows hazy.

Having ensured, half out of faith and half out of spite, that the princess would have been safe throughout it all, the last thing his fading sight sees being her atop of him as everything starts to go.

trigger warning for violence, foul language, and horror. feel free to change pronouns / terms / tense as needed!

❛ Only the evil book can undo what the evil book has done. ❜

❛ Please. I just want to go home. ❜

❛ [name]’s dead. You know that. You killed her. ❜

❛ No, why are you saying these things? ❜

❛ I’ll rip your soul out, you pathetic fuck! ❜

❛ I will kill you like I killed your whore! ❜

❛ You were supposed to be here two hours ago. ❜

❛ I’ll be damned. You actually came. ❜

❛ I know I look like road kill. ❜

❛ You’re a charming liar, as always. ❜

❛ We always loved this place, didn’t we? ❜

❛ I thought you didn’t believe in that kind of stuff. ❜

❛ Promise me you’ll stay with me until the end. ❜

❛ Looks like someone broke in. ❜

❛ Some teenagers probably just broke in here to drink beer and bump uglies. ❜

❛ Let’s make this place livable. ❜

❛ I don’t think you need sad memories in your head right now. ❜

❛ I wanted to be there. Okay? I did. ❜

❛ This time the only way is the hard way. ❜

❛ Look, we all need to be together on this. Otherwise it won’t work. ❜

❛ I came here to make things better with my sister, not worse. ❜

❛ I can’t stand that fucking smell anymore. ❜

❛ Withdrawal’s kicking in hard. ❜

❛ Oh, is that blood? ❜

❛ Careful. These steps are old and rotten. ❜

❛ What the fuck happened here? ❜

❛ No, no, no. Voodoo is more about dolls and personal artifacts. This is something different. ❜

❛ You shouldn’t have touched anything from that basement. ❜

❛ I’m going insane here. I feel like I’m losing my mind. ❜

❛ We can’t lose you again. ❜

❛ Oh, my God. I’m such an idiot. To think for once in my life, I could count on you. ❜

❛ She’s talking about a woman in the woods. How the forest attacked her. ❜

❛ Well, don’t you think we should take her to a hospital? ❜

❛ I feel like we’re in over our heads here. ❜

❛ If we leave now, all of this mess will have been for nothing. ❜

❛ Please. You have to get me out of here. ❜

❛ There was something in the woods. And I think it’s in here with us now. ❜

❛ Look, you know it’s all in your head. Just try to get it together. ❜

❛ Please, would you just get rid of that thing? ❜

❛ Open the fucking door! ❜

❛ Well, nobody could have known she would do something so twisted! ❜

❛ No, you should have known! We’ve all been following your lead since we got here. ❜

❛ We should have left when [name] wanted to. ❜

❛ Everything’s gonna be fine. ❜

❛ I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but nothing has been fine. And everything’s been getting worse every second. ❜

❛ Put the gun down, please. Put the fucking gun down! ❜

❛ One by one, we will take you! ❜

❛ You are all going to die tonight. ❜

❛ This is impossible. I just gave her enough sedative to put a horse to sleep. ❜

❛ I gotta get the shrapnel out of my arm. ❜

❛ I don’t think a tranquilizer’s gonna do shit. ‘Cause I don’t think we’re dealing with a freaking panic attack here! ❜

❛ I’m scared that what’s happening to [name] has something to do with the fucking witchcraft in the basement! ❜

❛ Oh, my God! Why the fuck did you do that? ❜

❛ I did something terrible. ❜

❛ That thing I killed was not [name]. ❜

❛ I read a passage from that book. It was… It was some sort of prayer. I released something. I released something evil. ❜

❛ Why did you lock me down here? ❜

❛ You got violent and we didn’t know what else to do. ❜

❛ Look, something really terrible has happened and we have to get out of here now. Okay? ❜

❛ He’s not gonna let you leave! And he’s not gonna stop till he has you. Until he has all of you! ❜

❛ I can smell your filthy soul. ❜

❛ [name]’s not here, you fucking idiot! ❜

❛ I don’t know why, but I thought this would end it. ❜

❛ There’s some translations, but…just scattered notes. They all refer to some… evil entity. A taker of souls. A demon. ❜

❛ This thing is attached to [name]’s soul like a leech. It’s becoming her. ❜

❛ If we want to stop this, if we want to help [name]…I think we’re gonna have to kill her. ❜

❛ We’re not gonna fucking kill anybody! Are you listening to yourself? ❜

❛ It doesn’t matter where we go. If we don’t do something right now, we’re all gonna be dead by then! ❜

❛ We’re gonna get you ❜

❛ I had to do it. And I feel much better now. ❜

❛ These inscriptions are confusing, sometimes contradictory, but they’re consistent about one thing. In order to stop this, the possessed must be cleansed. Purified. ❜

❛ Am I sure? Of course not. This is not a science book! ❜

❛ If she dies, then this thing is gonna die with her. ❜

❛ You’re just a fucking coward. You know exactly what we have to do, but you’re too scared to go through with it. ❜

❛ I’m gonna burn this fucking place down. And I’m gonna end this nightmare. ❜

❛ Why don’t you just run away? Go hide beneath some rock somewhere. You know you’re great at that. ❜

❛ Why are you hurting me? ❜

❛ Don’t die on me, please! ❜

❛ Dying wouldn’t be so bad right now. I just don’t want to become the devil’s bitch. ❜

❛ I’m gonna do what I gotta do. Okay? ❜

❛ Why do you hate me? I know you do. ❜

❛ You’re gonna burn in hell for trying to kill me, you motherfucker! ❜

❛ I’m so sorry. I should have been there. I should’ve been there for you. ❜

❛ I’ve had enough of this shit. ❜

❛ I will feast on your soul. ❜

Worried over a dagger when the other still had every capability of turning her into a fine red mist all the same. Something that wasn't too unappealing. It would be quicker, too, no doubt. One wouldn't even need to wait to hear the reasoning behind this new change of demeanor.

Alas, before any choice could be made again, her attention returned to Hellboy proper, head canted just so as she seemed to come to a decision.

"And you said yourself that the woods could be dangerous. We don't know when she or her men may return. You clearly have more than enough weapons. Give me the dagger and we'll walk out of here."

A statement that did hold some logic to it. She was a mostly defenseless woman, after all, besides the chain that was wrapped around her waist. If her 'evil stepmother' arrived, or any of the potential people that locked her up here, what could she do to stop them should he be disposed?

Still, could such a person be trusted with that kind of power? Her wants and temper seemed to be as fluid as the waters. Not solid, no, still constantly in motion and waiting to settle when the storm passed. She's just as likely to stab him in the back herself than she is to hug him for his cooperativeness.

At least, that was how her temper was. Her body, however, was perfectly, so eerily still. If she was breathing, it didn't show. Porcelain skin glinting in the light as she held a beckoning hand out for the requested implement. The implement meant to slay her, no doubt, was being requested.

Something that only served to make his brows furrow incredulously, growing suspicions only half-interrupted by the the princess' own rebuttal to his point, even if the sudden committal of her mentioning 'her (mother) and her men' wasn't at all lost on him.

Everything about her, about this place, was making his mind tell him there's a reason she's locked up in her and that he should be doing everything in his power to keep her from escaping.

Up to killing her on the spot, if necessary.

Preferably so, even.

"... hmph." The annoyed grunt was all that verbally met the princess initially as he removed his hand from the pistol's grip and moved it to his jacket's pocket, not removing his gaze from her for an instant as he fishes through it and withdraws the pristine blade, glistening metal outlined in his crimson red hand as he stared up at her.

As it was gripped, his mind was already conjuring up images of the ease the instrument would have of tearing it's way through her.

A heavy boot takes a slow, singular step up the stairs.

His thoughts imagined the feeling of the blade being plunged into her chest, of skewering her heart and splattering his hand with her blood. The absolute lack of resistance.

Another step, and already she looked smaller. Weaker.

Sparing the world outside from her would be the easiest thing for him to do. All it would take was for him to Slay Her.

In no time at all from his own perspective, he was in arm's reach of her, only a few steps down but still more than eye level with her now, that knife having been gripped so tightly he wouldn't be surprised if his knuckles were pink and his hand was bleeding.

Only then does he come to a stop, the burning embers in the dark that were his eyes still glued to her as he held the knife in his hand, pausing with hesitation for only a moment, before his hand finally made it's movement forwards, towards her.

Something that might've been seen as threat to her and obedience to whatever force was growing stronger in his mind... had, of course, he not been holding the knife backwards the entire time.

It's blade pointed harmlessly his own way as the handle was pushed in hers instead, his fingers locked around the guard as he stared into her eyes with his unreadable gaze, the weapon presented to her harmlessly with, if anything, him placed in absolute peril- the blade in his direction, his hand that could actually hold a weapon occupied, and the stairs behind him so eager to be tumbled down.

His grip on the blade only loosening when she'd take it.

"There." He mutters out the simple affirmation of the offer, betraying his mind still at least partially being elsewhere even in the midst of this. Focusing less on the princess, but on what he'd just felt.

Something so small and insignificant that could so easily take a life, just as it's purpose likely had been, given it's poignant placement.

This is all not to bring attention to the Princess herself, who seemed far more composed than before now that his attention was allowed to come to her. Chain wrapped around her waist so it didn't drag along the floor- or allow easy grasping of it to be used against her, potentially. Cigarette still dangling expertly on her bottom lip, like it was meant to be there, and kept there with some skill. She was looking at him, now, with those cold eyes that matched what he had seen when he initially was there.

The glint of shiny, bright heels beneath dress giving the briefest thought back to the 'Cinderella' initial thought from before. A glint not quite unlike the dagger that he had told her of. That he'd said was upstairs. On the table.

That she so clearly must have seen waiting for him to catch up to her at the top of the stairs.

"There's no dagger here."

It's said with all the icy tone that was expected of her in the beginning, watching him with steely, cautious eyes. He had told her of the dagger, yes, but it just now became apparent he had 'forgotten' to mention he had taken it to begin with. Showing more of that volatile and, potentially, dangerous shift in moods as she watched him. Waiting for an explanation or action in response to her observation.

With the cigarette in her mouth, chain around her neck, and the red seeping into her dirty dress; the Princess had almost put on the facsimile of a dangerous, powerful person. Someone that could do a lot of damage, were it not for how dainty she truly appeared, even towering over him from her position as she was.

In a tone he could hear the ice in, and made him mutter a silent 'crap' under his breath as he lifted his gaze up the stairs towards her.

Eyes narrowed at her as he watched her demeanor change in real time once again, shifting back to that defensive cold she'd carried when he'd first stepped down those stairs, glaring back at him. Unlike those previous volatile switches, though, she was freed from her imprisonment now, and all the the more dangerous for it.

She was certainly doing her best to make herself look imposing at the top of those stairs... or the world itself was. Maybe a bit of both.

Either way, between it and the nagging feeling at the back of his head, he made a purposefully visible display of pushing his jacket aside and setting his hand upon the handle of his pistol.

Yet, of all things, her savior seemed reluctant to leave right away.

In an instant, excitement shifted to worry and confusion. She, nonetheless, approached the way out, but was looking at him with a mixture of emotions that clearly showed her concern. For him, perhaps? Who was to say.

"Are you sure? What if they come back? That was rather... loud."

Her voice was once more that meek and soft one, the slight tremble alerting that she was... scared. Scared of whoever might have put her down here, yes, but truthfully perhaps more scared of...

Either way, the Princess is putting one foot on the stairs upwards, glancing to the door at the top and then down to him.

"Well, um, listen... I..." She paused, taking a shuddering breath to compose herself. "I wasn't expecting anyone to come save me at this point, so I'd feel wrong just leaving you here. I'll be upstairs when you're ready, okay?"

That someone was out there? That someone would come get her now that she was free? Come get him for daring to free her?

He certainly wasn't afraid, but he could feel that tell-tale tug of something, somewhere between the princess and the world itself, wanting him to make a choice... sitting in a basement wasn't one.

The cambion's own eyes lift up to the window as the princess ascends the stairs, staring up and out to the moon hanging above... locking on it for a solid length of time in the silence, as if it was a great big eye in the sky watching the plot unfold expectantly. Waiting there like he expected it to blink.

When it didn't, as of course it wouldn't, he let out a simple sigh and stood up from the floor, dusting himself off and rolling his his neck.

"Right. Time to go."