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Blood of the Demon
Chapter 8
tw for assault
I tumble through the corridors to the prison door and begin to shake as I rifle through my bag to pull out the key card. The pain ebbs and flows,and gets worse with every movement I make. My insides feel like they’re going to fall out. I finally manage to slide the card in, but as I turn the handle I hear someone behind me. I rush to make it through the door, but they beat me to it.
“It’s the succubitch!” Madeline screams and then there’s the rest of their christofascist crew. Adrienne comes up on my left and grabs my arm as Madeline grabs my other. I try to pull away, but the cold sweats and nausea begin to take hold and my knees buckle.
“Hey! That’s my key card!” Dean snatches out of hand. I groan.
“What’s wrong with her?” Asks Madeline.
“It’s her unholiness, her sin that’s finally making her sick.” And here he is, the ringleader of it all, Luther Mather. “But I will help you dear child, and purge the evil from you.” He touches my forehead and I return the favor by willing my strength to spit in his face. His face turns to disgust and revulsion before he says “Well let’s see what you’ve been up to then.” Fuck . They reopen the door. Luther and Dean lead the charge, with Madeline and Adrienne dragging me behind them.
“Not as strong as we thought.” Madeline asserts.
“This will be easy peasy.” They smirk together. I feel my mouth begin to fill up with saliva and the nausea begin to reach its peak.
“And what have you been doing down here, succubus. Unholy meetings with prisoners? Hmm? You must be retributed and cleansed in the holy light of the Lord.” Luther gets right up in my face.
“Sack of shiiit.” I meekly say before throwing up right on the floor. Luther jumps back and Adrienne and Madeline immediately drop me to the ground.
“Ew!” They say in unison. The cold floor feels like relief as my body begins to heat up.
“Pick the bitch up! We can’t have her running off.” I barely hear as Luther demands. My vision starts to speckle.
“But she’s so clammy!”
“It’s disgusting.”
“Just do it!” They reluctantly pull me off the floor while Madeline uses her skirt as a barrier between her hand and my arm.
“What is wrong with her though?” Dean asks.
“I’m not sure, but we can use her as an example to the rest of these demented souls in here. I’m sure the grace of God will cure her ailments.”
“I demand you to unhand her!”
I hadn’t the will to notice where we were in the prison. Up across the way was his cell. His pale silhouette pressed up against the glass. They all turn, and then… well this is where all hell breaks loose.
Luther looks to Nuada and back toward me before it clicks for him. “This is your little secret, succubus. You’ve been consorting with this criminal. Hmm? Making dastardly plans? Let’s do this in front of her accomplice so he knows exactly how we mean to change how things are run here.” They drag me through my own vomit towards his cell and grab my arms taut to each side. More drool begins to spill from my mouth. And my head begins to feel light.
“You don’t know what you’re dealing with, you ignorant humans.” Nuada sneers.
“Oh I think I do, devil.”
“You think yourself so mighty, but I have been here longer than you. I’ve seen mountains turn to rubble, seas form, you know nothing. You’re a speck in my window of time.” Luther touches the glass with his fist, visibly annoyed.
“I know of our Maker and Creator and he has bestowed me with great power, and I intend to use that power to cull the evils of this world and bring upon a cleansing flame to all that is wrong and sinful.”
“Is that so?” He gives a slight smirk. “You proselytize this supposed god, and yet you are woefully obtuse to what truly is attached to you.”
“What do you spew, monster?”
“I feel it’s malevolence. You don’t notice? No. You’re too stupid to realize the demon attached to you. A leviathan. Feeding off you. Your guilt, your sorrow, your ego. Slowly hollowing you out until you’re just a husk.”
“False! Lies!” Luther pounds his fist against the cell glass, Nuada doesn’t move an inch. “‘You belong to your father, the devil, and you want to carry out your father’s desires. He was a murderer from the beginning, not holding to the truth, for there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks his native language, for he is a liar and the father of lies.’”
“Oh poor Luther what lies? The lies you told to these mards? When were you going to tell them about the gambling, the drugs, the brothels.”
“Shut up demon, Luther hasn’t done any drugs!” Madeline projects.
“Haven’t shown them what’s hiding beneath those sleeves, yet? Must be easy to hide something like that under that priest costume. And when did you become a priest by the way?”
“Be silent.” Luther grimaces with gnashed teeth.
“Luther, why is he saying all this?” Adrienne asks.
“Oh and that woman. I’m sure you remember her name. You see her face before you go to sleep every night. the guilt you feel, the anger. And she touched you so sweetly.”
The two beside me whisper. This sets Luther off the edge completely. There is a thick energy in the air.
“HOW DARE YOU!” His voice booms. and the lights all begin to flicker. The two girls and Dean all look up in alarm as uncertainty begins to grow.
“Very interesting.” Nuada says with amazement.
“She showed me God’s love and what God’s love can do. The power He wields and the power he bestowed to us through our unfathomable devotions.”
“Killing poor animals is devotions now?”
“We blessed them with his light!”
“And you did that to her too? Blessed her too? Asphyxiated her too for your God. You make me sick, hypocritical mards like you. And too stupid for your own good.”
“How does he know all this?” Adrienne asks.
“He’s lying! Spewing satan’s filth from his rancid mouth.” Luther swears.
This is all getting to be too much and a laugh escapes my lips. “You think this is funny, witch!?” I can’t hold back any longer.
“You’re…. such a fucking idiot.” I snicker out. He tears into a blind rage and grabs my throat with one hand.
“Get your hands off of her!” Nuada screams. He backs off but his anger is still reserved.
“You’re right.” He takes a deep breath and slicks back his hair. “Let’s do this right, with him.”
The delirium is really startjng set in ad ime havng triohble concentratinggg. I an fade out of conciousbess as the scene unfolds like a viewfinder. I see Luther by the control box and a fog filling the cell. Then Luther and Dean are gone. I open my eyes and Nuada is front of me, restrained. They’re voices fade in and out.
“Should we just leave her?” Madeline asks. “What’s wrong with her?”
“She’s ill, pucklepox” Nuada lies. The girls immediately abandon their post and my arms join my legs on the concrete. In the echo I hear a voice begin to say a hymn and chant. I can’t understand if it’s in english or latin but the air begins to feel thick. A breeze begins to pick up and the lights start to flicker again. I briefly open my eyes to see Dean huddled in the corner looking away from the scene as his hair stands up on end. I turn to the sight in front of me and Nuada doesn’t seem to put up much of a fight. He seems… out of it, almost… resigned. Luther kicks him in the stomach and he immediately falls, kicks him again…and again… and again. Get up. But he stays down. My body feels so heavy and it feels impossible to lift myself up from the floor. I’m panting and I feel the slimy wetness of my drool hitting my cheek. Luther picks him up by his hair, and he grimaces but keeps his eyes closed.
“LOOK AT ME WHEN I’M EXORCISING YOU, DEMON!”
A sharp pang of pain rushes down through my spine, and sends a chill right back up. Fucking stop, is last thought I have before completely blacking out.
#guillermo del toro#hellboy 2#hellboy ii: the golden army#fanfic#hellboy x liz sherman#nuada x oc#prince nuada#urban fantasy#abe sapian x nuala#hellboy#ao3 fanfic#exorcising#blood of the demon
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Ron Perlman as Hellboy in Hellboy II: The Golden Army (2008) 04/??
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Hellboy II: The Golden Army // Dir. Guillermo del Toro
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Blood of the Demon
Chapter 7
Nuada has an idea , but wants me to find an old fae book of fairytales, which I didn’t even think could be possible, to make sure. He says he’s not completely certain, but there’s an old story in there. I think he doesn’t want to scare me. I try to get the book out of Uncle Abe’s library the next day, but when I get there he’s pulled most of the literature off the shelves. I walk in too prematurely, like I have a dozen times before and he notices me before I can slip out.
“Hi Sabine, what brings you here today?” He doesn’t sound suspicious at all.
“Oh I just wanted to see if you were in.”
“Well, ask and you shall receive.” He flourishes a hand but slowly keeps moving his literature around.
“Uh, what are you doing with your library?” I ask.
“Just some reorganizing. I couldn’t find the Lesser Key of Solomon, so I decided it was time to catalog them again.”
“Oh. Okay.” Shitshitshitshit. I try to hide my guilt. “Well, you seem pretty busy, and I actually have a class soon, sooo..I’ll see you on Sunday for family dinner.” I attempt to make my exit, but…
“Wait.” He exclaims and it stops me in my tracks before I can even make it up the stairs to his front door. I slowly turn around, my heart pounding. “Did you need something from me, Sabine.”
“Hmm?” My lips seize together. “Oh right. I just wanted to know,” I spew out.
“You know the strangest thing about my library is that I’ve noticed lots of books going missing, but they usually show up again a few days later.”
“That’s so strange, maybe we have Knockers.
“Perhaps.”
“We have a problem. I think Abe knows.” I returned to Nuada the next day. “He knows someone’s been taking his books and returning them.”
“That’s not good.” He has a serious look on his face. “It’s not easy to find 12th Century Fae literature.
“Maybe there’s some other library I can get it from?”
“There’s a shop in the Troll Market that might have a copy.”
“Oh.” There’s a bit of disdain in my voice. The Troll Market is actually not such a well kept secret these days. Lots of tourists, but they still don’t take too kindly to BPRD agents, on account of, well Pops kinda made a big impression. “That’s going to be difficult.” I pace for a second or two. “Y’know I had a question about the doc. about what went down back then.”
“It’s not a documentary.”
“Sorry, right.”
“It’s sensationalism.”
“Right, but a lot of those things did happen.”
“I didn’t kill my own father.”
“Yea…”
“And I am not dead, nor is my sister, who walks around freely, out in the open.”
“Sure.”
“And I certainly didn’t murder Mards with starved Tooth Fairies. I would never torture them like that. They are beautiful little creatures that shouldn’t have to starve on the veneers of those greedy, gluttonous, vile people.
“Okay okay.” I give him a moment to stew in his anger before he takes a deep breath.
“Sorry. I felt compelled to at least exonerate myself from those misdeeds.”
“That’s okay.” He does one more breathing exercise.
“What did you want to ask?” He finally asks in a level tone.
“The reenactment of the High Elf court room, where you ki- diDN’T kill your father.” He politely lets it slide.
“Go on.”
“Does it really look like that? Underground, with the golden leaves falling?”
“No.”
“Oh.”
“They aren’t golden. They’re just normal oak leaves when autumn arrives. It’s the remnants of the Emmanuel Presbyterian Reformed Church that burned down in 95’.”
“Where is that?”
“Woodlawn.”
“But your sister flies overseas for council meetings.”
“They relocated back to Éire, because of me. My sister tells me after my attempt, she noticed more and more non-high elves and Fae acting untoward towards us. Other Fae refrained from doing business with us, punishing us as a whole for my digression. They decided to return to our homeland where sentiment would be better among our own kind.”
“Oh.” I immediately feel guilty that I asked.
“So you are in line to take over after your father….dies?”
“Whoever he decides to lead the clan. I never desired it until I thought it was necessary. Nuala has always been alongside our father. She’s a more capable head. She spent most of her youth watching and learning, preparing for eventual coronation. I leave for years only to return to try to take what she’s worked for her whole life. She’s a nèamhach for still speaking to me.”
“When does she usually come down here?” He takes a second to think it over.
“‘Usually,’ around the second Thursday each month, but…” He downturns his mouth. “It’s probably been about three months.” Did she stop coming when I…
The meal from Miles has completely worn off and I begin to feel crummier and crummier with each passing day. Worse than two months ago. Most days I wake up with a headache or nausea. Sometimes just extreme fatigue. And it’s not just in the morning anymore. It’s throwing my life out of whack and I’m slowly panicking that this is not something that’s just going to go away. I’ve started to self medicate more. Trying to take two doses of my pills even though that does virtually nothing. Taking pain killers, anti-nausea, tums, weed, drinking ginger tea in the morning, herbal medicine I read online. Nothing works. Fortunately it doesn’t last more than a few hours. Tonight is family dinner again and I am running 20 minutes late waiting for my stomach to stop churning. When I arrive at my parents, everyone’s chatting in the kitchen. Mum gives me a little kiss on the cheek when I arrive and asks me if I’m okay. I tell her I ate some questionable eggs from the cafe and she pulls out some ginger ale for me just in case. It’s steak night and usually I’m pretty excited, but my stomach is still disagreeable with me. I have tea after dinner instead of my usual glass of aperitif and skip dessert all together. I decide to leave early, but as I say my goodbyes Auntie Nuala tells me quietly on my way out, “Perhaps it’s best if you took some time off. Don’t take too many walks around the facility.” I want to ask her what she means by that, but I feel a pang hit me in that moment and only muster an “Okay thanks.”
I’ve only been able to go to class some of the days this week, but I'm making sure I keep emailing my professors about the situation. Prof. Agnarsson had been a bit annoyed but a doctor’s note from Med, softened him up. After our lecture today I find Madeline and Adrienne speaking in hushed tones outside of the classroom. I quickly walk past them, but I hear their footsteps and one of them yelling “Hey you,” I walk faster. One of them grabs my blazer sleeve and I flip around.
“What?” I ask. Visibly impatient.
“We just wanna ask you a quick question.” For presumably being in the Catholic Cunt Crew, Adrienne always looks a little slutty with her white button up undone to her cleavage and all the fucking eyeliner she wears.
“Okay?” I charge.
“Do you have Dean’s keycard?”
“No.” I turn to leave, but Madeline grabs my arm now and chimes in, “It has Level 5 Clearance, it’s white.”
“I said no. And even if I did, I'm pretty sure neither you bobbleheads or Dean should have it.”
She scoffs and releases my arm before shouting, “Do you suck it through the mouth or the asshole?” as I walk down the hall. I give them a false smile and flip them off before disappearing around the corner. Fucking cunts. Before I can even take a moment to decompress from that whole interaction, I hear a sharp ringing in my ears before a throbbing pain behind my eyes. My knees buckle and a chill goes up my spine before I flick the sweat that’s already collected on my forehead. Not again. My vision begins to blur, before I realize it’s a full episode, and I begin to stumble down to Nuada.
#guillermo del toro#hellboy 2#hellboy ii: the golden army#fanfic#hellboy x liz sherman#nuada x oc#prince nuada#urban fantasy#abe sapian x nuala#hellboy#eventual romance#fairies#supernatural creatures#fae#canon rewrite#blood of the demon
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You and your stoned mate at 6:00 AM, completely wasted after night out, trying to open the door.
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Hellboy II: The Golden Army // Dir. Guillermo del Toro
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Abe Sapien, played by Doug Jones, in Hellboy (2004) Creature effects by Spectral Motion
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if you're writing and find yourself thinking 'this is too weird/gross/offputting/esoteric/ambitious/catered to my specific interests + sure to push away a broader audience' that is the devil speaking and it is a lie. you are already firmly on the right path and you need to double down
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Cryptid of the Day: Dobhar-Chu
Description: This Irish monster is described as half-dog, half-fish, & there have been recorded sightings of it throughout the centuries. One tale tells of an Irish woman who was killed by the beast. Her husband took revenge by stabbing the creature in the heart, only to endure the wrath of the monster’s mate.
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Hellboy (2004)
Director : Guillermo Del Toro
Cinematographer: Guillermo Navarro
Tech Specs:
— Aspect Ratio: 1.85:1
— Cameras:
Arriflex 435 ES, Zeiss Ultra Prime and Variable Prime Lenses
Moviecam Compact, Zeiss Ultra Prime and Variable Prime Lenses
— Negative Format: 35 mm (Kodak Vision2 500T 5218, Vision 250D 5246)
— Cinematographic Process: Spherical (source format)
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Blood of the Demon
Ch. 6
I keep hearing someone call my name. I’m in that state of not quite awake, not very lucid. But it’s relentless. There’s no urgency in it but it’s constant. Sabine. A few seconds pass and then again, Sabine. And it continues like that for I don’t know how long. 5, 45 minutes. I finally open my eyes and everything is silent. I probably don’t get enough sleep. I try to lull myself into that state again, but find myself beginning to recall the night before. Guilt and relief wash over me in waves before curiosity tethering itself to my mind. Strangely, I don't feel hungover. I suppose a small silver lining to the ordeal. I hop out of bed to find my bag from last night and rifle through all its pockets . I look for my clothes from the night before. I had tossed into the corner last night in my state and I begin to pat down all the pockets before finding the little black business card in the back left pocket. It has silver lettering that gleams in the darkness of my curtained room. Kas Johrimir, on the front and then an odd twisting snake rune on the back. I google his name, but nothing really pops up. One article from what seems to be an indie publication catches my eye and it’s a feature on a place called Yaga House, which I assume is the name of the club from last night . Not much of a digital footprint . Mina texts me asking if I’m doing okay. I tell her: Much better than I thought, but I did drain a Mard almost completely dry so I guess I have Miles to thank for my hangover cure. She responds, Thank the gods for cute boys . I ask her if she’s heard of Kas Johrimir?
M: Yea he’s a powerful illusion warlock and the owner of the club last night, YAGAHOUSE. Why? Was he there?
S: Yea, he pulled me off that mard.
M: WAAAT?! WHEN??
S: Right before you found me. Honestly he saved that kid. But he gave me his card.
M: NO WAY!
I send her a photo of the front and back.
M: He must like you! What did he say???
S: It’s a lot. I can tell you over breakfast in the café?
M: Sab, it’s 3pm. But yes. See you there in 30?
S: Yes!
Today the H&F Comms (Human and Fae Communications) class is taking a field trip to Iona Park to see the Dobhar-chu, or Water Hound Sanctuary. Prof. Agnarsson said it was a “valuable lesson in how there can be a symbiotic relationship between us both.” When we get there it’s kinda like he described. It's honestly on a beautiful plot of land and our tour guide shows us where the hounds sleep and rest, a small building where they have a vet and tech on site. But then we get shown what they have the hounds doing most of their days and it’s cleaning the river. Which they promise is something they thoroughly enjoy doing day in and day out. We end the tour at their humble visitor center filled with pamphlets on Water Hound facts, which half are just jobs that they want to outsource them to do and shitty trinkets and souvenirs. They let us explore for a bit before corralling us back onto the bus. I find myself sitting on the bank just watching a couple of cubs playing in the river when I think I hear someone call my name. I turn around but the few people out here are nowhere near me and engrossed in their phones. I turn my attention back to the pups until I hear it again. I look behind me and again, nothing. Across the clearing is a break of trees. I watch them carefully for a moment but nothing moves. I must be hearing things. This time when I return to the pups they aren’t playing anymore. In fact they are at attention to something past me and they begin to bear their teeth. I finally stand up to get a better look. I’m tired of this back and forth. There’s no voices except the indistinct talking closer to the visitor center and nothing out of the ordinary, at first. But then I see, or maybe I think I see a shadow step out from behind a tree and behind another one. My eyes widen and the pups whimper and disappear under the water. I decide to walk to the forest edge to put an end to all of this. The hair on my neck begins to stand at attention the closer I get. But when I reach the edge, I don’t see any more movement. I slowly sidestep on the treeline, keeping my breath steady and eyes diligent. I make it round the corner of trees and see nothing out of the ordinary, no shadows, no voices. I must be going crazy.
“And then what happened to him?” Nuada asks.
“The owner intervened and I think summoned a Golem to take him to care. I’ve never seen one come straight out of a wall.”
“Hmm must be some warlock.”
“He was pretty rude and arrogant. But anyways, have you found anything in this batch?” I’ve been sneaking more books in and out of Uncle Abe’s library. Never taking more than three and immediately returning the ones I've stolen before acquiring new ones.
“There’s a few potential options I've seen.” He pulls out a smaller leather-bound book and opens it up to a saved section. “In this one there’s a curse that causes the intended user general malaise, but also laughing fits. It also says the effects should be immediate once it's been cast.”
“Yea, I don’t think that's this.”
“I agree, but it does offer up the question of when this started? When do you think you started to notice these effects?”
“Oh, no idea. Best guess would be when I started to take my medication. Maybe a year after it?”
“When you started puberty?”
“Uh gross.”
“I’m just trying to gauge if it’s connected to your Fae. Succubi tend to mature and develop their appetites during puberty. Perhaps that’s a clue.”
“I just don’t want to think back on that time.”
“Why not?”
“It just… it just wasn’t a good time for me.”
“Did something happen?”
“No!… I mean yes, I mean it.. it was just- I don’t want to talk about it, okay.” He’s quiet for a while. The air feels thick with awkwardness.
“You know, I thought I was going to marry my sister.” He drops a bomb through the silence.
“What!?”
“It’s tradition. At least for twins.” I immediately take a seat and he takes my cue to continue. “In my culture, we believe that twins are two souls of one person. Innately connected, and in a way we are.”
“So what made you change your mind or… are you still holding out?”
“It was part of my frustrations back when I thought I knew what was best. Made me resentful of her. I thought she was turning her back on us. On me.” I’m enrapt. I’m honestly dumbfounded for him to be so brazen to drop this. “I wish I could say I didn’t resent her, I did, for years. I was raised thinking she was unconditionally mine. And I thought she would change her mind too. See that Abraham would not understand her like I do, did. I was wrong. I was very wrong about a lot of things. I knew all of this would happen. We would be pushed to the edges. Our land, our lives squeezed into hiding. I couldn’t watch it and I left. And when I couldn’t sit back anymore, I failed and nothing changed.” His shoulders are slouched in his chair and I can't see his face. But I see droplets forming on the cold floor of his cell. “I apologize.” He gets up and in a flurry, I see how ghostly his face has become. His yellow eyes, now orange. He moves to his sink on the back wall and splashes his face a few times before patting it down with a towel and returning. “I’m sorry for that display. It’s unbecoming of me. I don’t mean to burden you with my faults.” I don’t really know how to respond.
“Do you still think about your sister like that?” I figure to just start firing.
“No. It was mostly puritanical.”
“What do you mean? Like you didn’t think about her sexually?”
“No, not yet. We have a belief that one should sow their oats with many others before committing fully to their beloved.”
“Is that why you came out of exile?”
“That and to wage war.”
“Do you wish she saw you that way?”
“I did.”
“What changed?”
“I realized it was pointless. If I use force like they do, the humans, then I am no different than them. She made me see reason, even if it was too late.”
“What did she say?”
“That our fields would not grow from that much blood shed, and it’s true. Is it worth that much sacrifice? To potentially end up with naught. A kingdom of nothing.”
“Do you wish you had done things differently?”
“Yes, but I accept my choices and the punishments for them.”
“I don’t pity you.” I say frankly.
“I don’t expect you to. I understand what I did and it was my choice.” I take a deep breath.
“Well,” I sigh, “I can empathize with your regret.” He studies me very quietly, as I lay out my great shame. “When I was 14 I met this boy. He was a mard, but he was very sweet and also an orphan. He was being raised in the system, a ward of the bureau. They don’t usually take in mards unless there’s a specific circumstance. His mom had been turned into a vampire and she had turned his father shortly after. New fledgling vampires have a difficult enough time controlling their bloodlust, much harder time when you have a 5 year old as well. And it must have shown because someone at his school must have tipped off the bureau, because two agents showed up at his door. Vampires are not allowed to have children under their care because it’s a liability, very easy to decide to create a child vampire which is highly taboo and illegal or worse, eating their son. Well things escalated quickly and they both got staked, so he ended up here.” I take another deep breath. “He was a good kid. A couple years older than me and volunteered to tutor maths. So patient and he gave me butterflies everytime he rolled up his sleeves. But one evening before my geometry final he stayed late with me, the study room closed at 7 usually, but he wanted to make sure that I got back safely.” I feel a lump in my throat manifest and my face get hot. “I knew I was not supposed to have intimate relations with mards until I could get my hungers under control, but I didn’t know what to do when he kissed me. And I felt something take over me, like I was possessed. And he didn’t scream in terror like I thought. He pulled me closer to him. But then…” My eyes stinging now as I lay out my trauma. “I had never felt that way before. I had been on suppressants, but I guess we had the dose wrong. I didn’t know what it might feel like, taste like, and I had no idea how to stop.” The rest of it I choke out. “I felt this hiss, before it all stopped…and…” I can’t get the rest out.
“Sabine.” He says my name softly. I can’t look at him. “Sabine, it’s okay.” I’m shaking my head.
“No it’s not.”
“You didn’t know.”
“It doesn’t matter, he’s dead because of me and I almost did it again.”
“You can learn how to control it.”
“How? My stupid pills which used to work are pointless now. Every day I feel the hunger growing, and as if that wasn’t enough, now I feel sick most days. I feel like I'm going crazy and losing control. And no one else knows what's going on with me or refuses to tell me anything!” My whole face is slick with salty tears.
“We can find a way. We are getting closer to the answer.”
“And then what? How are you going to fix me when you can’t do shit?” He goes silent and I feel immediate regret. “I’m sorry, I don’t know… It’s not your fault. I just feel so terrible.”
“It’s okay.” He says.
“It’s not. I honestly didn’t know if this was real or if I was just losing sleep, but I think I’m starting to hallucinate things that aren’t there, and it's scaring me.”
He’s looking at me so seriously and says, “I need you to tell me exactly what you’re hearing and seeing.”
#hellboy 2#hellboy ii: the golden army#fanfic#ficspo#guillermo del toro#hellboy x liz sherman#nuada x oc#prince nuada#urban fantasy#abe sapian x nuala#water hounds#vampire#canon rewrite#redemption#blood of the demon
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1988's Concrete Vol.1 #10 cover by artist Paul Chadwick.
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don’t talk to Viv before she’s had her morning cup of coffee
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