Read Hellboy: The God Machine for Free Online

Wickham feels."
    "To have a body again," Annabel added, holding out her small hands and flexing her fingers. "It's glorious."
    Spearz noticed that the girl's fingernails were painted a bright shade of red. A harlot's shade. Yes, these modern times filled him with wonder, but they also made his blood boil. No matter, if all went according to plan, it would not be long now before everything was finally set right.
    He returned his attention to the truck that had come to a lurching stop before them. The incessant beeping ceased and the property around the farmhouse returned to blessed silence.
    The dog that had been lying silently on the porch, face between its paws, climbed to its feet, tail wagging furiously as it growled and whined.
    Spearz reached out to stroke its head. Not all of his flock had fared well. Poor Silas Udell had had nowhere else to go but into the vessel of the family pet.
    The dog's dark eyes gazed into his imploringly.
    "Patience, Silas," Absolom said, feeling a familiar tingle in his fingertips--the urge to design, to create, to build. He would help his friend as soon as he was able.
    "I wonder how they will explain their sinful lives when they come face-to-face with God?" Annabel mused, young eyes on the delivery truck.
    "That's not for us to worry about," Spearz said, as he stepped from the porch to greet the man climbing down from the vehicle, clipboard in hand. "Ours is to pave the way for his righteous arrival. What happens after that is none of our concern."
    "Road's a bitch," the deliveryman said, vulgarity spewing from his mouth with ease.
    Spearz wanted to slap the man's face, but restrained himself. "Yes," he agreed instead. "We've been meaning to do something about that."
    The man grunted and plucked a pen from behind one of his protruding ears. "You Stanley Thomas?"
    "Yes, yes, I am," Spearz replied. It had been mere weeks in this new body, but he felt as though it had always been his own. It had only taken him hours to sift through his host's thoughts, learning all he needed to know about these modern times.
    "Got a delivery for you." The man handed Spearz the clipboard and pen. "Sign at the bottom."
    A second man had climbed down from the passenger side of the truck and was opening the rear door, exposing the numerous boxes and pallets.
    A cascade of images flooded Spearz's mind--the innumerable inventions that he and his followers would construct. He saw every nail, every piece of metal, every nut, bolt and screw required to build these fabulous machines.
    "You all right?" the driver asked, startling him from his reverie.
    "Yes, of course," Spearz replied, his mind aflame. "I'm fine." He reviewed the receipt on the clipboard before affixing his signature. Everything seemed to be in order. Now they could begin their work in earnest.
    The man passed a cursory glance over the signature, then tore the yellow copy away from the clipboard and handed it back to Spearz. "Here ya go, Mr. Thomas."
    Spearz smiled politely as he accepted the receipt.
    The driver brought the clipboard back to the truck, then returned, pulling on a pair of work gloves he'd taken from his back pocket. "Where would you like us to put this stuff?"
    "Right here is fine," Spearz answered, pointing to the ground at his feet. "My family and I will see to them after that."
    The deliveryman glanced doubtfully at his followers, who still stood upon the porch in the bodies whose owners they had usurped. The man shrugged. Absolom knew there was no way he could even begin to suspect what had recently occurred on this property--but it didn't hurt to be cautious. There was so much at stake; the fate of the world, and the glory that was due it, was now in their hands.
    The two men lugged multiple boxes from the truck and stacked them outside. Spearz watched, his mind filled to bursting with the work that awaited them; hard, grueling work, but all for the most magnificent prize.
    "All this stuff," the driver asked, grunting with exertion as