KingKongKal
In 1944, as the Nazis clawed for any weapon to turn the tide of their dying war, they turned to the occult. With the aid of the sorcerer Rasputin, they sought to summon a power that could annihilate all opposition.
They succeeded.
In the burning ruins of a church in East Bromwich, it arrived in a ball of fire: blood-red skin, cloven hooves, a barbed tail, curling horns, and piercing amber eyes that burned like the Pit itself. Its right hand was not flesh, but stone.
By all accounts, a demon-summoned from Hell.
But Big-D saw something else.
Yes, the creature before him was a demon. That much was undeniable. But it was also small. Frightened. A child. A baby, no different-at least in that moment-from the many he had sired.
Part of him demanded the creature's death.
Another part... hoped.
Hoped that something born in the worst depths imaginable might still choose to be good.
His decision came in an instant.
He stepped forward, lifted the demon child from the ashes, and gave him a name:
Hellboy.
I don't own Hellboy (Mike Mignola) or Hunter: The Parenting (Bruva Alfabusa)