Happy Belated Birthday, Hellboy :]

  I'm writing this..., not to tell you a story, exactly, but many adventures, mini stories, perhaps, that I had with someone. It wasn't yesterday [that's a whole other story], or the day before [don't even get me started], but a long time ago, near the beginning. The month, you ask? March. The year? It was the first time "twenty" was said instead of "two-thousand." The day? It was storming that day; storming in the kind of way you knew it would last through the night, delivering a blood-red dawn as the first thing you see in the morning. Ghosts were lamenting outside in the cold, and the branches of the great brown oak were thrashing in the agony of darkness. Much like they are today, actually.

  His name was the fiery Inferno. Or, Joe, as he simply called himself. But we both had different names back then. He was the Renegade Soldier, and I-- well, I'm telling you about him, am I not?

 We didn't greet each other for over a month, although we congregated to the same places. When we did, however, we talked about whether the dragons could conquer the powerful nameless being, later known only as: The Golden God. It was an alarming battle, but in the end, we both guessed correctly.

  Inferno usually wore a coat, long and brown, otherwise indescribable in its mystery, rumors of a war on a far away planet between an oppressive government, and her rebels were spread around, but I was never certain of the truth, or falsehood of them. His hat matched his coat, and it was usually pulled low over his bright eyes. I never thought anything of it until I noticed one day how they flickered from one person to another, from the door, to the window, where a rustle of a feet passed by; they were watching, analyzing, deducing. I knew then how difficult it would be to hide anything from Inferno.

  But unexpectedly, and very fortunately, I was one of the few whom he chose as a friend. I'm not entirely sure when it happened, really; it was there one day is all I know, a cord- black, deep blue, crimson, royal purple, brown, the color of the sunset, and green- in a butterfly knot around my wrist, only, unbreakable, unshakeable, there forever and accompanied by the sense of something achieved, something good, and something joyful. I hadn't felt so pleased since I was betrayed some months before by someone I trusted more than anyone else...
But I digress.

  In the days when- instead of 5000- 116 was a big number, and four instead of fifty, and being sixteen made one rather old, an organization was initiated with the initials of COBPUDLEGAP and the pronunciation of CobPuddleGap, the purpose of which was to track, attack, and subdue to our authority the man who created a talking skeleton, the achievement of a century. Twice he slipped through our fingers, but on the third try, it was Inferno who overwhelmed and disarmed him. I remember our captive shouting in aghast acrimony, "I will have your head, young minion! I will have your HEAD!" as we dragged him away....

  A week later, the mind wipe bomb exploded.

A new invention built and designated for the sole purpose of intentional amnesia; created, I've been told, by someone spoken of only in the dark recesses of the safest houses. She was called Insanity, the Mastermind, the Dragontamer, Nova Moonshine. It blew us off our feet, swashed through our minds like a tsunami, and washed away the memories of COBPUDLEGAP, the talking skeleton, and most importantly, Insanity's conspiracy to steal his head. Those affected by the mind-wipe wandered aimlessly for three weeks, barely recognizing faces, hardly remembering the meaning of the cords around our wrists, and never truly recalling what exactly had been done to us. But slowly, memories of other things came back. Inferno awoke from the fog first, and he helped us extract what we could. We managed to save the skeleton man in the nick of time. And we even remembered enough to bring COBPUDLEGAP back eventually. 

  Surprisingly, when we did, I was made second-in-command, and I regret to say, there was a short period that I suspected Inferno of being a double agent by the name of Jack, Springheeled. For one, he called himself Joe, which would, under normal circumstances, be irrelevant, but the next day, my second-in-command badge disappeared, only to show up on his shirt. Of course, it was only a joke, and he returned it to me... Only... it always felt a little bit different, and what was that shiny gold thing I saw him sliding into his pocket with a mischievous grin?

But let me tell you a different story. A story of how Inferno got his nickname. It's a simple story, but it's a fitting name.

  There once were two young ladies, one named Lynn, the other, Min, and they didn't know each other veritably well at all. But that didn't stop them from arguing. It was a fare fight, I'll grant you that, with spiteful words and sarcastic humor, the bad kind, of course. Inferno stepped silently in when things were getting out of control, although he didn't stay silent for long. Another minute, and he stood between the spitting girls, hands thrust out, palms facing them. He quoted, "Red means stop!"

  And they did.

A snap of the proverbial fingers, and Inferno Joe has ever since been known as: Hellboy.

  One more story before I go.

  Not long after Sergent Hellboy [as fellow agents called him] got a new name, he left for eight days on a mission, the details of which even I, second in command, did not know about. All I do know is that when he returned, there were claw marks on his arm, and tales spread of of having rescued a child from the clutches of a lion, and feeding the hungry lion afterward. However, when he did come back, he uncovered a plot of dastardly intentions. Someone was threatening to sell the creator of the talking skeleton on the black market, also known in some regions as... ebay. To the horror of COBPUDLEGAP, the mastermind of this maleficent scheme escaped, and to this day, we do not know for sure who he was, who he is. And all I can wonder is... When will he strike again?

  The day will come, I am sure of it, but on that day, we will rise, and we will fight back, fight back for the good of the community, fight back for the good of the world! 
And we will win because we have Hellboy on our side. All hail Hellboy! Hip hip- Huzzah! Hip hip-Huzzah! Hip hip- Huzzah! The great private eye and secret agent, the best of our world.