Tags:
Fiction,
General,
Suspense,
Science-Fiction,
Fantasy fiction,
Fantasy,
Media Tie-In - General,
Media Tie-In,
Mystery,
Science Fiction - General,
Fiction - Science Fiction,
American Science Fiction And Fantasy,
Horror Tales,
Horror Fiction,
Hellboy (Fictitious character),
Hellboy (Fictitious character: Mignola)
books, children's toys--all items loved, and in turn, saturated with an energy created from adoration, an energy that would eventually be put to a far greater purpose.
He set their latest prize down beside an urn filled with the ashes of a writer who, if what Absolom understood was true, had established his own religion, setting himself up as some kind of earthly deity receiving messages from a being that lived amid the stars.
Blasphemy.
It took all of his self-control not to smash the man's remains to the ground for formulating such sacrilege, but he held his anger in check, for the faith-instilled power stored in the funeral urn was far too valuable to waste on a fleeting display of anger.
He turned away from the items to see that his followers had returned to their appointed chores. There was much still to be completed to set the stage for their god's arrival, and he was overjoyed to see that they had embraced these tasks with great determination. There were other things that required his own attention, Absolom knew, and he headed back to the clockwork drone still standing at attention where he had left it.
"What of your brethren? Who prevented their return?" Absolom reached out to his silent servant, cupping its cold, pale cheek. The corpse was that of a young man, its face gaunt from sickness. "If only I'd given you the gift of speech, eh?"
He removed a penknife from the pocket of his jeans and used the blade to slice open the decaying flesh of the drone's stomach. He reached into the cavity, feeling around for its power source. Recognizing its shape, he withdrew the battery for inspection. The spirit-energies were nearly depleted, he saw, and disconnected the power cell so that it could be recharged.
Absolom heard the sound of someone approaching and turned to see the dog gingerly padding toward him. "What is it, Silas?"
The mechanical voice box bolted to the shaved flesh of the dog's throat crackled to life. "Only one returned," Silas stated in a hollow, metallic-sounding voice.
Absolom started to feel the first twinge of regret for having constructed the device that allowed the canine Electricizer the ability to communicate.
"Shouldn't you be outside, patrolling the property like I asked?" he said, using a cloth to wipe the foul-smelling fluids of rot from the surface of the battery.
"What could have done this?" Silas prodded. "What could have prevented the others from returning to us?"
"It is not your concern." Absolom approached the dog and patted his large, blocky head. "Go back to your assignment."
"But what if there are forces that have learned of our return?" Silas asked, moving his head away from the man's comforting touch. "What if, like before, they are gathering to stop us from completing our sacred task?"
Absolom sighed. The thought had crossed his own mind, but he had not wished to give it credence.
"If only we could see what it saw," Silas's voice crackled. "Then we would know for certain if our plans are in danger."
The sudden pain inside Absolom's head was sharp, causing his eyes to water. It wasn't the first time he had felt such agony, like having steel needles driven through his skull. He called them his spells, and they signaled the beginning of some new, wondrous idea, when his mind would be filled with the designs and the knowledge to build the most incredible of machines. They were a gift from his god, the means by which to guarantee Qemuel's eventual arrival to the world of man.
"Absolom?" he heard the dog-Silas call to him, his electronic voice box the result of a spell very much like this one just two days ago. But Absolom was already in the grip of his vision, and his hands twitched eagerly to create that which was now burning in his mind.
He moved like a man possessed, snatching up pieces of metal, circuitry, and wire at a fevered pace. In a matter of minutes, the image inside his head had become a reality, and the pain inside his skull began to fade as he attached the last
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