She ran into the BPRD foyer screaming. In hysterics, she had dodged past the guards and snipers, before skidding along the polished floor before the doorman, babbling about a shape, or a monster, or a killer, he didn't catch it all, all he did was press the silent alarm, calling the cavalry, who arrived moments later.
It had been a year since the Rasputin incident, and Hellboy hadn't had a good case in months, Abe, on the other hand, enjoyed the break which allowed him to catch up on his Herodotus. As they ascended to the main foyer, they argued about the 1953 Houston Springheeled Jack incident. The woman standing in the foyer was blonde, though her hair was filthy, dead leaves and mud caked to it, and her clothes were torn. As Hellboy and Abe ducked behind pillars, to avoid scaring the girl, Liz Sherman stepped forward, the woman observed her warily, before lifting a hand, showing Liz her outstretched palm. Etched onto the palm, obviously with a blunt hand and inexperienced hand, was a rune, a triangle on the top of a line, Liz recognised the symbol from her research, and held the woman's hand steady in order to get a better look at it. From under the woman's anguished sobs, Liz heard her speak. She lowered the hand and looked into the woman's eyes.
"What did you say?"
"Don't… Don't let him get me…" The woman spoke, her face streaked with tears.
From behind her, a low roaring was heard, outside, a guard rushed at an oncoming truck, firing wildly, before being flung out of the way like a rag doll. The snipers atop the Bureau opened fire, their bullets doing little to stop the truck.
"Liz! Get down!" Hellboy roared as he leapt across the foyer in a single bound, landing in front of Liz and drawing his gun as the truck ploughed through the glass doors, stopping only when Hellboy grabbed it by the front bumper and held it in place. The front door opened and a Shape stepped out, dressed in a boiler suit with a ghastly, white mask hiding its face from the world, the woman screamed and ran, straight to the elevator in the centre of the foyer as The Shape strode towards her.
"Liz, Abe, get her out of here, I'll handle our guest" Hellboy yelled, grabbing The Shape by the shoulder with his stone hand. The Shape turned and brought a knife down, aiming for Hellboy's red face. Hellboy grabbed The Shape's wrist with his flesh and blood hand, keeping the blade of the knife inches from his face, they held position for a moment, The Shape's strength rivalling Hellboy's own, until gunshots rang out and tore into The Shape's back. Two BPRD agents stood behind him, guns in hand, as The Shape looked behind him to examine the new threat, Hellboy punched him full in the chest with his stone hand, sending him flitting across the room and crashing into the far wall. As The Shape stood once more, Hellboy aimed The Good Samaritan and fired, the oversized bullet tearing into The Shapes chest.
Now, Hellboy had shot a lot of things in his life, not everything he shot died, but they sure as hell fell. Nothing he ever hit took a shot, but this Shape simply buckled a little, then straightened out and observed its wound with something akin to curiosity. Torn from its reverie, The Shapes head snapped up to Hellboy, and started striding towards him. The two BPRD agents rushed towards The Shape, despite Hellboy's objections, and they both immediately regretted it. One had the kitchen knife dragged roughly across his throat, while the other had his hand taken off before he could fire, then his nice, white suit was stained with his blood as The Shape ran the knife into his heart.
Distractions dealt with, The Shape turned his attention back to Hellboy, who raised his gun to fire again, but The Shape grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm away, driving its knife into his side with animalistic force. Hellboy clenched his stone fist and prepared to punch, until The Shape squeezed his wrist abruptly and he fired, his bullet tearing through the engine of the truck behind him, already he heard the gas leaking, and soon, that bullet would reach some of it. Hellboy hoped time was on his side as he grabbed The Shape by the leg and threw him onto the bonnet of the truck, its spine giving an audible crack on impact. Hellboy turned and rushed for the group, who were holding the elevator for him. Behind him, the truck exploded, a fireball spreading across the foyer like smoke from one of his cigars, the shockwave hit him and gave him good tailwind, as the group sunk beneath the floor, beneath the fireball, and he rushed in with them.
After the fireball extinguished, the group raised up through the ground to observe the damage, not that there was much there to damage, but they saw the burnt out truck, and on it, a slightly smoldered corpse, the white mask lightly blackened despite being so close to the fireball.
"There ya' go, darlin'" Hellboy smiled, "Coast is clear!"
As he spoke, The Shapes corpse sat up, and stood off the truck, knife in hand, no hint of remorse in his soulless eyes.
"Aw, Crap" Hellboy groaned as they sank into the BPRD, The Shape hot on their heels.