Read Online Hellboy: The God Machine by Thomas E. Sniegoski - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Thomas E. Sniegoski
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)
Ads: Link
polished the apple on the arm of his coat. "I don't know, maybe I'm just being paranoid."
"You?" Her tone dripped with sarcasm despite a mouthful of cookie.
"Bite me," he growled, getting up to stroll around the main exhibit hall.
George had taken them on a brief tour of the building before heading out for the night, but Hellboy hadn't looked at the displays all that closely. Since they probably had a few hours to kill, it seemed as good a time as any. The museum was small, but the room was filled to the brim with all kinds of Native American cultural artifacts, representing not only the Micmac, but also the Malaseet and Penobscot tribes.
Hellboy stopped in front of a particular case, leaning in for a closer look while taking a bite from his apple. "So you think this is what we're supposed to be protecting?" he asked, eyeing a pouch.
It was quite old, about the size of a woman's handbag, and appeared to be made from tanned animal hide, most likely deer, or maybe elk. There was an interesting zigzag pattern painted on the front of the pouch in red and white, the colors barely faded even after all these years. G LOOSCAP ' S M EDICINE B AG read a small plaque just below the glass cube that contained the artifact.
"It's the only thing here that vaguely matches Manning's description," Liz said, joining him. She was still munching on the sugar cookies from George's lunch.
They had asked George if he knew anything about medicine bags, and he had brought them to this case almost at once. He told them about Glooscap, a demigod and the subject of many Micmac folktales. Glooscap was the earthly embodiment of the great deity, Kitche Manitou, and had taught the Micmacs how to hunt, fish, and make tools and weapons. He prophesied the coming of the white man and Christianity, but eventually he left the world, leaving behind his powerful medicine bag as proof that he would return to his people in times of war and hardship. According to the security guard, it was the crown jewel of medicine bags.
"Kind of small, don't ya think?" Hellboy commented, taking another chunk from the apple. "Wallet, a pack of gum, car keys, and that baby's pretty much full. How much medicine could this Glooscap keep in there?"
"It's magic," Liz replied, her reflection in the glass case dwarfed by her partner's. "Sort of like Felix's bag of tricks."
Hellboy looked at her confused. "Felix who?"
"The Cat," she answered. "Felix the Cat? Don't even tell me you don't remember. I know Felix, and you're way older than I am."
"Oh yeah," he nodded. "Thanks for the reminder."
"Do you remember the name of his arch nemesis who always tried to steal his bag of tricks?" Liz asked. She went back to her chair, where she'd left her coat, and started digging through the pockets until she found her cigarettes.
Hellboy threw the core of his apple into a nearby trash barrel. "I can see him in my head, had a crazy white mustache, didn't he?"
She plucked a cigarette from the box. "He was called the Professor. I don't think we ever got the rest of his name." She started toward the door, far across the exhibition hall. "I need a smoke."
"Aren't you going to wear your coat?" he called after her. "It's freezing out there."
"Warm-blooded." She smiled and held up her index finger. An orange flame flickered to life on her fingertip, and she lit the tip of her cigarette.
Hellboy shook his head and turned away, focusing his attention on a totem pole in the corner, its carved faces alternating between animals and gruesome fright masks.
He heard Liz open the door. "Be right--"
She didn't finish her sentence. Hellboy frowned and tore his attention away from the totem pole, wondering what had stopped her.
Liz stood in the doorway--and she wasn't alone.
"Hey, who's that?" Hellboy called, starting toward them. Whoever had come in was half in shadow, and he couldn't make out the face. He hoped the security guard had come back and brought them some coffee. "Is it George?"
But even as
"You?" Her tone dripped with sarcasm despite a mouthful of cookie.
"Bite me," he growled, getting up to stroll around the main exhibit hall.
George had taken them on a brief tour of the building before heading out for the night, but Hellboy hadn't looked at the displays all that closely. Since they probably had a few hours to kill, it seemed as good a time as any. The museum was small, but the room was filled to the brim with all kinds of Native American cultural artifacts, representing not only the Micmac, but also the Malaseet and Penobscot tribes.
Hellboy stopped in front of a particular case, leaning in for a closer look while taking a bite from his apple. "So you think this is what we're supposed to be protecting?" he asked, eyeing a pouch.
It was quite old, about the size of a woman's handbag, and appeared to be made from tanned animal hide, most likely deer, or maybe elk. There was an interesting zigzag pattern painted on the front of the pouch in red and white, the colors barely faded even after all these years. G LOOSCAP ' S M EDICINE B AG read a small plaque just below the glass cube that contained the artifact.
"It's the only thing here that vaguely matches Manning's description," Liz said, joining him. She was still munching on the sugar cookies from George's lunch.
They had asked George if he knew anything about medicine bags, and he had brought them to this case almost at once. He told them about Glooscap, a demigod and the subject of many Micmac folktales. Glooscap was the earthly embodiment of the great deity, Kitche Manitou, and had taught the Micmacs how to hunt, fish, and make tools and weapons. He prophesied the coming of the white man and Christianity, but eventually he left the world, leaving behind his powerful medicine bag as proof that he would return to his people in times of war and hardship. According to the security guard, it was the crown jewel of medicine bags.
"Kind of small, don't ya think?" Hellboy commented, taking another chunk from the apple. "Wallet, a pack of gum, car keys, and that baby's pretty much full. How much medicine could this Glooscap keep in there?"
"It's magic," Liz replied, her reflection in the glass case dwarfed by her partner's. "Sort of like Felix's bag of tricks."
Hellboy looked at her confused. "Felix who?"
"The Cat," she answered. "Felix the Cat? Don't even tell me you don't remember. I know Felix, and you're way older than I am."
"Oh yeah," he nodded. "Thanks for the reminder."
"Do you remember the name of his arch nemesis who always tried to steal his bag of tricks?" Liz asked. She went back to her chair, where she'd left her coat, and started digging through the pockets until she found her cigarettes.
Hellboy threw the core of his apple into a nearby trash barrel. "I can see him in my head, had a crazy white mustache, didn't he?"
She plucked a cigarette from the box. "He was called the Professor. I don't think we ever got the rest of his name." She started toward the door, far across the exhibition hall. "I need a smoke."
"Aren't you going to wear your coat?" he called after her. "It's freezing out there."
"Warm-blooded." She smiled and held up her index finger. An orange flame flickered to life on her fingertip, and she lit the tip of her cigarette.
Hellboy shook his head and turned away, focusing his attention on a totem pole in the corner, its carved faces alternating between animals and gruesome fright masks.
He heard Liz open the door. "Be right--"
She didn't finish her sentence. Hellboy frowned and tore his attention away from the totem pole, wondering what had stopped her.
Liz stood in the doorway--and she wasn't alone.
"Hey, who's that?" Hellboy called, starting toward them. Whoever had come in was half in shadow, and he couldn't make out the face. He hoped the security guard had come back and brought them some coffee. "Is it George?"
But even as
Similar Books
