I don't own Hellboy, any of its characters or devices, or any songs/books/movies mentioned; no money is made from this story. I DO own way more tea than is healthy.

Hey, Folks! Ghost here. Welcome to BoFA, the first part of my "Elementals" series; I really hope you enjoy it like I've enjoyed writing it. As usual, trigger warnings are posted before chapters likely to set off certain problems, and each chapter is begun with one or more songs that really set the mood for the chapter.

With how many different versions of the Hellboy fandom are out there, maintaining a believable balance can be difficult. For Abe, I've leaned toward the animated series in appearance, the live-action movies in abilities/hobbies, and combined all three options in personality. Hellboy's mostly a mix of live-action appearance and live-action/animated personality. There may be spoilers ahead for any and all series. So sit back, relax, and sink your teeth into BoFA, y'all, and remember: things aren't always as they seem, and thoughts and feelings can influence perceptions. This chapter's dedicated to anyone who has the knockers to willingly move from Smalltown, USA to NYC.

Suggested listening: Linkin Park, "No More Sorrow"

Prologue

They'd thank him for it one day, the scowling man reminded himself as he sat at his large, expensive desk. It may not be soon, or in a few years - he may well be dead and gone by the time they realized just what he'd gone through on their behalf. Until then...

'...well, they already hate me,' he admitted to himself darkly. 'What's a few more years of it? At least they'll be better off when I'm done...and this freak show will be shut down for good.' A hesitant knock at the door dragged him from his thoughts, and he yanked a stack of sealed envelopes from a pile of other paperwork.

"What?" he called out. An agent hovered in his now open doorway, clearly rethinking his purpose for disturbing the surly director. "Spit it out, Myers."

"Uh, Sorry Dr. Manning," Agent John Myers almost stammered. "You called me? Something about outgoing mail?"

Just for a moment, regret soured Thomas Manning's stomach. 'No,' he reminded himself forcefully, viciously marking the last envelope's return address field with a rubber stamp. 'This is no life for anyone, much less freaks who'll never be able to live a normal life; they're better off out of the public eye.' Without further ado, he stuffed the envelope into a stack of others and shoved it at Myers. "Get going."

For a moment, John stared at his supervisor in concern. Manning wasn't known for good attitude, exceptional people skills, or even being an open book, but the agent couldn't help feeling that something was off. As the older man shot him with a stern glare, he ducked out the door and scampered away, never comprehending the disaster to come.

A week later, several major news outlets published breaking news, exposing a branch of the government that supposedly had never existed. That very day, Dr. Thomas Manning was taken from the bureau in cuffs, charged with treason, espionage, and sabotage. That very day, a worried redhead packed away her life for yet another cross-country move, oblivious to the shitstorm awaiting her.