"Aww...I'm shakin with joy. Can't say I'm not surprised though, didn't know you and the new hound had a relationship. Well, eh" Climbing up Coal's fur to Join me HB grabs a shaggy clump of infinite black fur in his small hand, "Leds go then. Tellem to head for the nexus, soul bonds work the same in hell as they do on Earth. He'll understand you."

I furrow my brow and pretend to know what the fck he's talkin about. "Look I gotta ask first."

"Ho boy...here it comes."

"You're a movie character. You Ron Perlman in a mask or...? A lunatic demon with a fan fetish or what? "

"I'm not a character, asshole. I'm the real thing. Mush the mutt and I'll tell ya the story."

Would you turn that down. "Hah hyah!" Coal bolts forward witha black streak of lightning in his wake as they streamline through the abyss in no time. "So?"

"You a science man?"

"What you think?"

"Me neither. Wish I was though. In science there's a theory, if the universe is infinite so are the realities. If the realities are infinite than any story, book, movie, camp tale you ever heard happened or wil happen at some point in time, somewhere in the universe of universes. "

"So you're sayin you're one of those Universes Hellboy, the real Mccoy."

"Nah that's the blue furry bastard. He went up. Heaven and Hell differ in one major way. Heaven? It's separated just like Universes, a heaven for each universe. Hell."

Coal slides to a stop tearing up a bridge of cold grey brick

"So...everything evil that ever was or will be, in any universe. Is down here roasting. "

"Yer not as stupid as you come off. That's right. The Ol, 'Infinite Inferno' grows with the universes and the sinners. Like a Boa."

HB slides off the ass of Coal and looks up, "I hate to tell ya but your world is gone. Dissapeared for reasons above my pay grade. But there's another one, Ripe for the pickin."

Now I'm suspicious. I only saw some of the movie but enough to know he's not made by my brand. "Why are you helping me?"

"Same reason American's go to the desert for two years. orders. Your boy Surkit, he's in front of the gate waiting for you."

He pulls a cohiba from his pocket and lights it on his flaming crown "To put it flat, your an anomaly. A chink in the universal chain. If you two are allowed to occupy Hell, nobody knows what the prolonged effects are. "

"Why's that...?" Coal's rearing now like a wild bronco, like I said he's smart. He's not interested in being in Hell anymore than me, or you would.

A ruby smile spreads across his lips, "That's for you to find out now ain't it? Now: Rules."

"When you get topside you'll be human again. If you die you'll come back here, you come back here you'll get sent back topside. Only it might not be the same universe. So treat the second chance like it's your last." He smacks Coal on the ass with a cigar roasting in his mouth, getting kicked like a mule before the hell hound Dire wolf runs head long with it's forked tongue out towards Surkit's back as he stands contemplating in front of a luminescent gateway. The dog rams him and the three are sent riding a blue tunnel sky bound.

"I don't suppose ya even know where your goin." He asks with a cigar held between his canines.

" Lemme guess....you're the one helpful demon in hell." I smirk out of my cheek, standing between limbo and what comes next.

His red eyes grow brighter, before he takes a deep breath and exhales a thick cloud, "I wasn't always a demon. And your not gettin outta here without inside help. I can show you how to get back top side. your friend's, another story."

Sin Fong used to call it a 'Co-dependent relationship'. She liked to play psychoanalyst from time to time. Claimed my conection to Surkit and his to me was an unnecessary balance, one that did neither of us a favor. I've went through two levels of hell looking for him now...why? Co-dependence. I'm finally free of him, why should I give that up?

"Fuck'im...Lead on big horn. I'm not a fool, things start lookin lopsided I'm taking that big arm and shovin it-"

"Right right, I get it he-man you got the power. let's move. There's a shortcut through Gluttony. Won;t be easy though." I catch up and walk beside him, "Why's that?"

We walk for four years but the conversation is as long as two minutes. Time does't make sense. "Cuz of the new hell hound. Black Coal Furnace. He eats the fat bastards that ate their way to death. He also guards the gateway to the nexus."

"Nexus?" I say with a rough tone wrapping my hands in an old jacket laying in a pile of chewed flesh

"Enough talk. There he is."

I laugh it's so ridiculous. "Coal. ""Coal was the hell hound Cerberus now. his mouth leaks tangent lava and silk streams of blood. Growling at me with his center head, the other two busy.

"Only way past him is to kill him." HB says watching me with his small arm holding his hip.

"You think so?" I ask with a smile. "COAL!"

The hell hounds other two heads turn and look at him with bodies in their maw's. Coal in the center stares with the fire leaving his eyes, calming. But the other two just get angry. They nip at his ears before spitting out their meals and working in tandem run towards me. The only way to go was forward, a quick dive and roll gets me a chance as I feel the sparks of long nails dragging to a stop from the hind leg's, the smell of sulfur and dried blood heavy in the air as the animals pungent fur hangs above me.

It turn's slowly to look me down, size me up like it was figuring out a move to make. "Coal. Sic Sic. Sic Sic Sic." The center head's eyes widen as it listens to his voice, an owner from lifetimes a go,a chance at hope and freedom. Coal was never stupid. He takes control of the left head, biting at it's throat and tearing out a black artery to bleed out bile and toxic blood before hanging limp, the paws it used to control now Coal's to command. Using his weight the beast wrenches his nech unnaturally to bite the back of the right wolf's neck. The crunch is sickening and slow, it must've taken all of his pwer to bite it's spine in half as it hangs half connected to the neck. Now both heads are dead, the body in Coal's control.

I can't lie, I hesitated. He went to hell and became something god like.Howling up at the pit above in pain,

But yet when I get closer, he lowers his head and manages to somehow let his forked tongue hang out to lap me up.

A few pressured pats on the head to show him the same courtesy before I back up. "Hold still and close your eyes." He does it. The electric whips wrap the dead heads and begin to grind into the necks, Coal is screaming like a man right now, deep and pain filled. I try and make it fast, as the whips tighten closer and closer leaving a cauterized wound where it once was until the two fall with a thud on the floor and the wounds are left as smoking broad shoulders.

At the end of the Styx we all know somehow exactly where we're going, and but everybody keeps rowin' anyway. IIn hell, most soul are braver then they ever were in life. Maybe it's the inevitability. Maybe it's the knowing what comes next.

At the edge of the river the typical flames and brimstone die down, you begin to see the shores of toe nails, the black water turns into a sloshing sea of spent semen. That's right, every genocide you committed into a napkin degraded, and went straight to hell.

At the edge of the river I can see the foul smelling jizzum fall over a cliff of dried shriveled eggs. Fck this time to go, I extend my hand towards a tree in the valley of death and latch onto a branch, swinging out just in time to watch the villains fall over board. The sound of the splash made my non existent stomach flip.

In the field the fruit borne on the trees looks like pears. When I walk closer I realize their fetuses wrapped in what if's. Endless probabilities of dead children shifting around their nearly developed corpses, as they kick in the incubation never to break out and make the reality.

I keep it movin. Stepping through the fog of black into a field of white pale bones I meet a man, red, big as fck, horns and the whole nine. ...Anung...Anun.... called himself Hellboy. He said the only person who would bother to take Surkit would have to be the gate keeper. Some kind of general of hell that handles the flow of souls into the system. "You new?"

"Yeah" I say, "Just arrived"

"That makes more sense. You want to escape don't you"

"It crossed my mind"

"Good." He steps aside nonchalantly "Gotta do my job still. I judge trials." Pulling a lever I can hear old gears grind back "You pass, you pass" He never saysm ore than five words unless they had a point, I respected that

From behind his back a baby crawls out on all fours. It's arms are spikes where chubby digits would be, covered in dirt and filth as it whines constantly. Standing on it's two legs I see black pits where eyes would be, a smile on it's face, as I look down at it's stomach to see my name carved and scarred in the center.

Like a still spider too close to it's prey, it catches me off guard as it jumps with sharp speed, a spiked arm forward as it slashes into my face, then dissapears into the dark. It shoots out again then dissapears. A dozen cuts slice my chest until finally it walks out slowly, tapping it's chest. I look down to see Lizzy carved between my pecs. " cute."

She jumps again. This time I'm ready, grabbing her spike and roping it around to push through her rib cage. I didn't take any pleasure in it but I didn't hate myself either. A new body grows on a tree as HB sighs smoke, "i dunno if nice job's the right words. Pass."

Next: Gluttony and Greed

Then: Infinite Finale

Monday morning

The buildings catch the light in the morning like a black hole, absorbing it as shadows envelope most of the streets in the City, light never truly hitting the planted trees that withered and died without being replenished or removed. Flucks watches the sky rise from the Eastern horizon with velvet suspenders over his black tank top holding up his dark burgundy slacks, his fists behind his back, bloody. "P-please, I don't know how to do it, it's impossible, I can't work for you, and work against the JLI! P-please just...just let me go, I won't tell anybody about this I swear, just let me see my wife and kids!" The man in a blue jumper with the JLI insignia stamped on says, on his knees with hands tied behind his back. Sin Fong, known as The Assistant to most, stands behind him with a gun to his skull watching the beads of sweat drop from his recently gelled head. "I abducted you from the pick up zone for a reason, one reason. It comes down to two options. You can go back and see your family, dead before you even make it to them, and I'll let you live with that. Or, I can just kill you here, now.." He pulls out the mans wallet from his fist,looking to the identification card, "James." The technicians eyes shift back and forth as he feels the cold steel barrel kissing his cerebellum, "Don't! God, please don't...I'll help you two.. just leave my family be " Flucks hikes up his pants at the knees as he squats down in front of the man, looking him in the eye with a smile " See? Incentive always equals productivity." Rising he wipes his hands on the towel on his couch and throws it to the man after Sin cuts his bindings, "I'll take him back to the so fuckin' secret, port station." Presses his ear close to the jaw line, responding privately messaging Sin "Kill...his dog, and maybe that nephew staying with him. Your call, just know I want him on his toes working, not on his knees crying." The communication is cut off without the regard for a response, the two having a well melded business relationship, able to leave more than a few decisions to her often displayed general acumen in their line of work. James stares at him with terror in his eyes walking down the hall, but keeps his mouth shut for fear of paying for whatever they may be.

That afternoon

"Bisssshhhoooopppp..."

A pool of sweat drenches the bed, leaving rings of stained musk atop the already current stains, this was his life. He steps out of the cubed bed and reviews the holographic ticker feed of todays agenda while heading to the kitchen as it slides across the wall with him, stopping in front of the cabinets while he's pouring coffee.

20 minutes later

Stepping into the control room with another cup of coffee, feeling drained as usual until he trains and builds kinetic energy, syphoning it and turning it to an adrenaline like secretion to his brain, "Morning Jimmy, got you a coffee" He says with a down to earth tone and a kind smile, "Thanks S-S-Surkit..." H e grabs the cup with his head in the information serverm expertly hiding his slightly swollen features. "No problem, sounds like you had enough as it is, J-Jimmy" He says laughing and taking a seat observing the fluctuating chaos statistics graph, an experimental feature that can with enough data predict and help prevent events of a tragic or devastating nature. "Gonna be a loooong week"

The Church of Divine Intervention Tuesday, 4:00 pm

In a high back leather swivel chair sits an old man with a toupee on a manikin head atop his desk. In his lap sits a nun with only her scapular veil covering her sweet yet aged face. "Oh reverand Goody please...this isn't what you said I'd have to do to be a nun!" She says with a look of fear and dread on her face, the old pudgy pervert rolls his eyes and ashes his lit cigar, "I'm not looking to role play tonight baby… just get it done...well, go on!" She giggles dropping the facade as well as her body. He leans back in relaxation before a beep is heard followed by a shrill old voice, "Father? Father!" She says, "What damn it!" He asks pushing the button so hard his finger turns red, "Forgive me father, we have a visitor, a Mr.Bailey- What’s that? Oh yes… a Mr. Bailey, the second" She says with a mocking tone, "Should I send him up then?" The reverend sits up straight and clears his throat pushing the girl back, "Ahem, yes send our generous benefactor right up." He pulls his pants up and pushes the naked nun into the closet just as Mr. Bailey enters, wearing an all-black Caraceni dress suit complimented by dark grey Tistoni custom fit dress shoes. "Ah, the good father Goody, it's an honor to finally meet you." He says in a deep yet soft voice with a smile as he approaches the reverend who grabs his extended hand with both of his own short thick ones "Mr. Bailey! the honor to meet such a generous man as yourself, sir, is mine alone. Please, have a seat" He says in a thick Mississippi accent. Bailey chuckles deeply with his eyes closes then looks back still smiling at the puzzled father, "No, meant it's good to meet on of the Fathers of Crime, that seems like the greatest honor" His eyes flick red as he leans past the broke light from the stainglass window.The reverend, in his fear, attempts to grab the shotgun clicked into a mechanism under his desk. He felt nothing. Looking down sharply he sees the gun floating against the bottom of the desk. He looks up slowly, to see a brown hand hovering above it. "Wuh- what the fck do you want asshole? " A Grinch like smile spreads across his morphing face

PART 1 - How a snake jumps

Grimm Broadcasting Company

"Folks your lord and savior needsa you to help these people, with just a five dollar contribution we can reach the 100,000 they so desperately deserve ta get their lived back on track!" An old man in an unflattering shoeshine black toupee says, Pacing energetically across the stage, passing random faces with phones in front of them asthey chew gum, text or do crosswords in the silent room, "We're gettin' there folks! We now have.." He turns to look at the incoming funds ticker and his jaw drops, "Ladies and gentlemen we have just recieved..tuh... twenty million dollars to the California relief fund! Sir we know your still on the line please, whats your name so we can honor this generous amount!" Static crackles on an open micorophoned line, "My name is James Bailey the second, I've been watching your problem closely and felt remorse for the people who were victimized in those attacks. Thanks to your inspiration Reverand, I've decided to move my offices indefinitely to Grimm City, to help build a better tomorrow for our city, as well as our country. I wish I could speak with you in person more in-depth, how about we set up a meeting reverand, say tuesday at four?" The Reeverand is astonished by this obvious power player, his toupee visibly sliding off of his sweaty smooth head, "That-that sounds just fine sir, mr.bailey Sir." A soft chuckle reverberates through the studio, "Please call me James. Have a good night."

The Grimm City north Airport or GCA

A black limousine pulls up, as James Bailey and his new right hand stand at the shuttle area. "Good night." He clicks the red icon on his phone and throws it casually in a breats pocket, "How did they respond, sir?" She asks in a sweet and interested voice, "Well. Better than I hoped in fact. Come on, we have to check out this new office, then...we unpack." A callous camouflaged smile slides across 'Mr.Bailey''s Face before he steps into the limosine followed by Ms.Fong.

Sighing deeply he presses a button under his collar, his hair slowly tightening back into curls, skin begins to shift and transition from a tanned peach to a bronzed caramel, while a goatee rises around his mouth "I need you to do some scouting while I'm out tonight. Names of mid to high level players, the numbers they have to work with, and what kind of weapons they use." He rubs his chin looking out at a jumbled mobile terrain filled with the messages of a madmans mind, before saying in mumbled words "....Get me the contact information of the Five Fathers of Crime"

A city in turmoil more and more each decade. It is constantly on the verge of being opening like a cesarian cut womb, birthing a new era of evil whether those who fathered it desire them or not. Welcome to Grimm City.

The heated air tastes of old oil and rusted metal. The city of Grimm is known as the blender to outsiders,the place where all things mesh into a grey. The art on the walls help you see it, incredible art tainted yet accented by the graffiti tags, the buildings help you smell it, the sweetst smells of food and women you wish you could partake in, yet the foulest of things you may never scrub from the back of your nose. The soudns of country music swirl together with the beat of hardcore hip-hop, making something the world just might not even be ready for.

Grimm City, named after it's founder, Cassius Grimm, is the first area in the once newly founded united states to be integrated with trade purpose into the British Empire. Zoning was shady and often overlapping, often combining residential areas with buisness. Houses are scattered inbetwen what then were the tallest buildings the world had ever seen. Grimm, near the end of his life, suffered from dementia, at the time a little known mental illness. His architecture began to shift from a city of glass and light, to bricks mortar and insane designs that would boggle even the greatest abstract artists. Starways seemed to be endless, one wrong step could take you into an apartment instead of a street, windows in places they need not be, squashed against the opposing building haphazardly.

From above it appeared to be a bed of needles, all buildings capped with daggered spiral tops reminiscent of Russian design, though more gothic and urbanized.

This obviously has a negative effect on morale. The people scuffle around aimlessly when not enraged on engorged. The only way to cope in this world was to keep your head down and your hands moving. To move here was adeath sentence, to hope here was writing your own file for the Asylum.

There is no welcome sign, there is no now leaving...simply a sign that hangs half dissolved ands tagged

Grimm City: Enjoy! DOA

Does anybody know good ways for getting over it? Been writing so-so for about a month now, my mind hasn't been as creative as usual. I'm blank in my mind, staring at a proverbial brick wall. Anybody have any advice, pointers, etc to help me with this? If it keeps up I might have to bow out of rpg but I don't want to

It's not what you say- it's how you say it.

Trieste, Slovenia

A chopper sputters across a dark sky over the country side. The anchor sits in his baje suit looking out of the open entry while a man straps his waist to the base. *translated from Slovene* "The devastation is immense! As you can see this small once flourishing countryside, is now scorched and black! Our meteorologists have not come to a conclusion as to what may be causing these sporadic chains of lightning, though local authorities as well as interpol are suspecting it may have some link to the deaths in Turkey and Croatia over the past few days. we'll continue to keep you updated as the story progresses"

Milan, Italy

The day was long for Bruce. His hands ached from carrying a replica plastic M-16 through what should have only been an hours worth of filming, but had turned into a day long event. He presses a button on his phone, speed dialing his assistant, "Hey Julie...you mind getting them to send me up a foot bath? My dogs are killin' me" He says with his signature smirk, "Yes sir, Mr.Willis" his young right hand says, "Thanks babe" He kicks off his shoes and opens his balcony doors basking in the view of Milan from the Park Hyatt presidential suite. He leans back in his palms, old bones popping with each bend. the ever aging star goes over to the television flipping on the news to see a broadcast not in english, with the video of a scorched and blackened village. The wind emanating from the balcony nearly pushes him off of his feet, "the hell...?" He says to himself whilst turning. he steps to the doors, looking out supicously, his already naturally narrow eyes in slits. "......*looks left and right* "

He clicks the double doors shut and locks them, as he turns he stands some six feet away from a tall caramel skinned man sitting in his chair eating his green m&m's. The actor knew how to handle situations like this, studying such things when doing his action roles. He kept his calm and trying to fain authority "I don't know who you are, or how you found me, but if you don't get out of here we're gonna have a serious problem" He says with a forward posture, hands cupped under his armpits, eyes narrowed. The intruder just smirks and flips another m&m into his mouth, " "I’m a world-class assassin, f*ckhead. How do you think I found out?" " he says quoting one of the many films of Willis's.

The blockbuster walks over to his phone and attempts to casually call the front desk.

A small jolt of red electricity flows out of the mans finger and make sthe phone short circuit, catching fire. He drops it quickly, shaking his seared hands. "My name...is Flucks" He says pointing at the television. "And I guess we like each others work" he says sarcastically " Is that so? so what do you want from me, if your such a big fan"

His jaws stops clicking, as he pauses and stares at the action star, then turns and spits out the last piece of candy. He rises to a six foot stature and ebbs closer to the legend, "It's nothing personal. take a seat... I'll explain it to you" He pulls two chairs over. The actor sits, his facade slowly fading by the minute.

"You see, it's not really news- people die. I'm gonna die, your gonna die" He pauses for a brief second "everybody goes. It's not a big secret that heroes die every day either. You see it all the time on the news, this world is filled with heroes and their wins and losses are always tallied up at the end. You though? Well, your more of a symbol than any of them. Because when people slide your movies into their DVD player, or even VHS, they know the good guy is gonna win." Bruce starts to perspire gently from his temple. "Always, ya know? it's just unrealistic. But, see, you give hope with your movies. I wonder..."He asks himself rubbing his chin, " How many guys and girls are out there right now, flying and shooting lasers while in skin tight underwear, because die hard changed their life." He crosses his leg and rests his head on his fist, "They need to know, Mr.Willis, they need to know even the most invulnerable hero is touchable. Theres an epidemic of hope in this world. It needs a balance of fear and despair."

He stands and walks around the stars chair, grabbing his left wrist behind his back with his right hand " Feel me?" "Yeah" it sounds as though he had a tennis ball caught in his throat, "Yeah, yeah I feel you" Flucks walks around to the back of his chair, grabbing either shoulder and leaning into his ear "No you don't...but you will...they all will...Any last words?"

The film behemoth takes a deep breath, and simply turns around, looks Flucks in his dead, callous eyes and says, "‘Yippee-ki-yay, motherfuh-!’"

Two eradiated hands shove through Bruce Willis's chest, then back again leaving his lungs hanging from his back. He gasps for air his mind making him aware of the futility but his body ignoring "huh...HUH!" his corpse smacks the glas coffe table as the last image in his eyes is his crimson essence dripping off the corner

Hotel security busts in several hours later, finding a dead body, and a spat up m&m, with trace amounts of DNA on it.

A man with a conscience, who lives off of the sorrow and demise of others, must cope. The human mind is nothing more than a scale of morality... If you attempt to break this basic law of humanity, this law will break YOU

ISTANBUL, TURKEY

The shop owner Sweeps the floor of his humble tailor shop. The work would have to be done another day, he thinks to himself, pondering over the battle not too far away. In a world full of heroes, it's hard to notice the smaller ones. Giuseppe had a newborn in the room upstairs, with his beautiful wife Molina. He would've worked through the night, open for business no matter what as he had been for so many battles and wars in the past. But now, his life was spent with only one goal, to put his family before all others and things. The Tailor was the best the country had to offer, he was known for making the suits of some very influential types, on both sides of the line.

The broom scrapes against the cold wooden floor, pushing the dust outside.

CRACK-KOW!

A blinding red light slams into the pavement as the kindly shop owner is thrown back by the expended energy. Giuseppe reaches around frantically for his glasses, his blurred vision sharpening to the view of a tall, brown skinned man, naked as the day he was born. The dark mystery looks around with his back to the shop, until glancing through his peripherals at the classic lettering of the word Tailor on the shop window. He spins to look at the man on the ground, walking towards him slowly.

"Please, I have no money! Just go, I want no trouble, my family is upstairs" The black hand reaches out as the figure says "Don't judge so quickly" Giuseppe is stunned, and on good faith takes the man’s hand, rising swiftly due to the mans' strength, "th-than...how may I help you?"

The man holds his arms out looking down, "Take a guess old man" He says with a charming smirk

Giuseppe finally let his guard down, understanding the man quickly once his shock had somewhat subsided. "Ah...a customer. I was just closing up though as you can see..." The graying man points to his closed sign "Not to mention, I doubt you have the means to pay for my services" The dark figure steps forward into the light, the clear mirror image of Surkit of the Trinity Foundation, "Now Giuseppe, I was told you worked with heroes of your country for free" He chortles out

Giuseppe was completely relaxed as soon as he took a good look at one of the Utopian protectors. "Ah, Mr.Surkit!"A slight tick is visible in the left eye of "Surkit". "We have not formally met yet, Please come in come in, I go get my family they will love to meet you! there are pants on the rack over there, put some on please, that thing will scare my wife away, though I'm not sure if it'll be from you or me ha-ha" He says walking to a spiral metallic staircase. "Surkit" sits, sliding on a pair of black jeans. He looks around, Pictures of heroes, diplomats, and villains alike flowed across one wall, taking up every inch of brown wood. The Tailor comes back down with a simple red hooded sweatshirt, a leather jacket, and tailor fit black jeans "I was told you were the blue and black type, but assumed you may like a change in pace" He hands him the clothes to take to the dressing area. He stands in the mirror and likes what he sees

"This'll do just fine" He says, jerking the collar upwards and pulling the leather tighter around his body to fit more snug. "Maya will handle the bill." Giuseppe shakes his head "It's free. I saw you fighting the Americans, for that you get a pass." He says with a warm smile only reserved for the fatherly and kind hearted. "Thanks..." He looks at Giuseppe's wife and daughter, and walks closer. His wife uses her free hand to shake his "I am Molina, this little one is Alexi" She says pointing out the child. The baby goes from quiet and docile to franticly screaming and flailing. "I'm sorry; she's not normally like this!" He waves his hand at her, " 'Sfine, I just have that effect on babies, cats too may I hold her?" He outstretches his forearms, and she nods with a smile and hands her over. He stares into the Hazel brown eyes of the child who looks at him with stunning fright.

"She's adorable" He says holding her tiny hand "I think I'll name her Sable" The parents look at each other in nervous unison, the mothers maternal instincts, though delayed, kicks in immediately "I'd like my baby back now please-" While staring at the baby with a smile, his black fingers spew a lava like liquid into her face, she screams a muffled shriek, before finally becoming nothing more than a boned husk of what was once the Tailors wife, "MONSTER!" He screams, running at "Surkit". He looks up, the illusion of compassion disappears from his stony face, as his eyes glow red and a bolt of lightning flies through the roof, leaving a charred, melted statue of Giuseppe the Tailor of Turkey.

He walks out of the building, infant in hand. "Well sweets, looks like I need somebody to send a message" His pinky nail stretches into a small dagger of energy, as he begins to burn words into the infants torso. After he does so, he sets it down in front of the shop, crying frantically, still smoking...tears running down its face as the only image is that of a dark man walking away and the smell of her roasted mother and father

The Message forever inscribed on her soft pink belly:

"FLUCKS WAS HERE"