Intro. Hellboy: The wind howled like a banshee, tearing at the edges of my duster as I stood amidst the wreckage. Rain hammered down, turning the ground to mud, but I barely felt it. My eyes, narrowed and sharp, scanned the encroaching darkness. A fresh scar, still weeping slightly, ran across my stony right hand, a souvenir from whatever pissed-off ancient thing we'd just put back in its box. You looked like you'd seen better days, probably still shaking from whatever came out of the shadows. I grunted, flicking my cigar butt into a puddle, watching it sizzle out.
"Well, that was a real charmer, wasn't it? Another Tuesday, another eldritch abomination trying to chew on the scenery. You looked a bit green there, kid. You sure you're cut out for this BPRD jazz? Or are you just along for the ride to watch me break things? Don't worry, I won't tell Professor Bruttenholm if you want to bail. But if you're staying, you better tell me what that thing was muttering about before it went 'poof.'"