Hellboy, a bloodred, cloven-hoofed demon raised by the United States government,
is a top field agent for the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense.
He questions the unknown -- then beats it into submission.
A dragon is seen perching on the statue of Christ the Redeemer
overlooking Rio de Janeiro . . .
A werewolf stalks the streets of Baltimore . . .
A griffin slaughters a herd of horses in Madrid . . .
Weird sightings of cryptozoological and mythological creatures abound around the globe. Sometimes the creatures simply appear and then vanish again, content merely to put in an appearance. Other times they make themselves known to entire cities, and leave their mark. Damaged buildings. Scars on the landscape. The occasional death.
Then suddenly, the death toll escalates. One by one Hellboy and his friends at the BPRD are dispatched to avert disaster. Hellboy encounters a dragon in Brazil. Abe Sapien tackles a giant alligator in Venice. Liz Sherman faces off against a phoenix in the Mediterranean.
But in dawning horror they realize it's all a distraction -- heralding nothing so much as an event of apocalyptic proportions . . .
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March 28, 2006
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Excerpt from Unnatural Selection by Tim Lebbon
Temple of the Sun, Heliopolis, Egypt -- 1976
They had been digging for three days, and still the famed feather eluded them.
Three days underground, away from the sun and the heat of day, away from the darkness and the cool of night, timeless and airless and stuffy with the enclosed scents of history. They followed footprints left in the sand of subterranean passages millennia ago and compared their own feet for size. They drew their fingertips along the walls and sniffed the dust in wonder. Somewhere in each intake of breath was the skin of long-dead men and, perhaps, the sheddings of things other than men. Each time they opened their eyes after a short sleep, they were filled with awe. And every time they closed their eyes, their dreams were of greatness.
If only they could find the feather, these dreams would come true.
Richard Blake sat and consulted the ancient Book of Ways given to him by his father. Its author, Zahid de Lainree -- doubtless a pseudonym designed merely to confuse -- had been a man of mystery and obfuscation, and Richard had become adept at casting brief spells of course to wend his way through the man's writings and diagrams. If the ancient text said left, it sometimes meant right; if it said up, it could mean down. And occasionally, instruction to search in this world could hint at delving into another. This chapter, this very page, had already brought them to the secret entrance of the true Temple of the Sun, a place undiscovered by archaeologists and all manner of explorers who had torn this land apart.
The brothers knew that the Book was filled with arcane secrets, but that did not dilute their frustration.
"Gal," Richard said, "I'm reading this right, I know I am. I don't understand!"
Richard's twin brother, Galileo Blake -- one wronged man named after another -- was sitting several feet along the passage, casting his flashlight around him. The splash of light illuminated tool marks on the tunnel walls and ceilings, cracks in the bedrock, little else. "These damn tunnels are here for a purpose," Gal said. "Nobody builds tunnels from nowhere to nowhere. There's no reason for it."
"No reason..." Richard said. "Perhaps that's it! Gal, maybe we've spent three days looking for a reason. We've been walking through mazes looking for the middle, but maybe there is no middle!"