Chapter
One
Trevor Bruttenholm - The Adoptive Father: His Past
Author’s
notes: Even though much of this is my own, some of it is based on backstory
information from Del Toro’s film and was mostly worked up from
memory.

When
Trevor ‘Broom’ Bruttenholm was young he was afraid of the
dark and thunderstorms. He often suffered terribly from nightmares where
he thought that he could hear dark, evil voices crying out words that
he could not understand. His mother, a gentle, kind woman, would come
to him when this would happen and comfort him.
Unfortunately,
Trevor’s mother was not always emotionally stable and the deaths
of his two young sisters due to illness drove her into a nervous breakdown.
As his mother became more and more unstable his father became emotionally
distant, eventually deciding to separate from his increasingly eccentric
wife. His father, a strict Protestant, especially objected to his wife’s
attempts to contact their lost daughters through seances and other paranormal
means.
Trevor’s
main emotional relationship eventually became his paternal grandfather,
the man who he had been named for. Captain Trevor Bruttenholm loved
his grandson dearly, often finding this relationship a more emotionally
satisfying one than his relationship with his own son, Trevor’s
father. When Trevor’s parents established separate residences
and his mother showed herself unable to deal with raising him alone,
he went to live with his grandfather and they often travelled the world
together.
Captain
Bruttenholm, recognizing the essential soberness and stability of his
grandson, did not interfere with the young Trevor’s growing interest
in the paranormal and Catholic spirituality and mysticism. In fact,
he encouraged his Grandson’s interest in legends, folklore, and
the supernatural; often they visited interesting people and places,
both in their home country of England and abroad.
One
thing that Trevor was reluctant to share with his grandfather was the
continuing dark dreams and nightmares that plagued his sleep. However,
as Trevor entered his early adolescence the nature of these dreams began
to change. At around age twelve the nightmares began to be less frequent,
but oddly started to cluster around particular times of the year, especially
late October to early November. After a while the dreams faded completely;
or so Trevor thought.
Trevor
Broom was still shaken by the devastating vision granted to him by
Rasputin.
He
pulled away from Rasputin’s hand in disgust, not so much in
disgust at the role planned for the unwitting Hellboy as in disgust
at himself for being helpless to prevent this. Rasputin made it clear
that one of the ways he was going to use to get at Hellboy was the
murder of Trevor Broom himself.
Broom
no longer paid any attention to what Rasputin was pontificating on;
his mind raced for ways he could use to warn Hellboy that appearances
would not be all they seemed. He came to realize that Rasputin was
asking him a question.
“My
Master has revealed to me his true name. Would you like to know it?"
Speaking
very quietly to disguise from Rasputin his essential revulsion, fear,
and sorrow Broom replied “I know what to call him. I call him
Son.”
Hoping
that Rasputin would not understand what he was doing, Trevor Broom
removed from his wrist the rosary he always wore there, the rosary
that had been a gift to him from Hellboy many decades before, and
carefully left it on top of the encyclopaedia entry on Rasputin he
had just been consulting. He kept his hand on the rosary - almost
as a kind of benediction for the demon he loved as a son and knew
he would never see again in this life.
“I’m
ready,” Trevor Broom said quietly, without fear. He never moved
as he felt Rasputin’s Nazi assassin, Kroenen, step up behind
him. Any fear he did feel was solely for Hellboy, the demon he loved
as his own son.
His
last thought as he was stabbed from behind was, “God, protect
my son; allow me to always be with him.”
The
fifteen-year-old Trevor swam up from under a deep sleep realizing that
someone was shaking his shoulder.
“Trevor,”
he heard his grandfather’s voice, “are you all right, Son?
This is the third time this week that you have cried out in your sleep.
I really do not want to pry, but I am becoming concerned. Is there something
that is bothering you?”
Trevor
sat up totally disoriented.
“Grandfather,
I don’t remember crying out; have I really been doing this? I
don’t even remember that I have been dreaming anything this past
week. I used to have nightmares, but I thought they had stopped a few
years ago.”
Captain
Bruttenholm sat down on the edge of his grandson’s bed.
“Son,
I know that you used to have nightmares, but since you never wanted
to discuss them I left it go. I always assumed that they were related
to anxiety about your parents. I was reassured as they became less and
less frequent. But these dreams you have been having this past week
seem very different from these earlier nightmares.”
Trevor
shook his head; half in disbelief at what his grandfather was saying,
half in trying to shake the sleep out of his head.
“No
wonder I have been feeling so tired lately; my sleep was being disturbed
and I didn’t even realize it. I am certainly sorry that I have
been disturbing yours, Grandfather.”
Trevor
got up from the bed and stumbled into his bathroom. He switched on the
electric light and peered short-sightedly at his reflection in the mirror
over the sink; at first, for a few seconds, another, much older, face
looked out at him and then settled down into a slightly blurry reflection
of his own youthful face.
He
groped for a pair of spectacles from a nearby shelf, pulled them on,
and peered again at his reflection. He shook his head, took a long drink
of water from the sink, and returned back to his grandfather.
“I
am heartily sorry for interrupting your rest like this, Grandfather,”
he said as he walked back into his bedroom, “I know that you have
not been feeling well lately. Let’s go back to sleep and speak
further on this at breakfast.”
Trevor
was annoyed that the nightmares he thought finally banished from his
life had returned in this new, stranger form and were still clustering
around late October to early November. He was especially annoyed that
now he didn’t even know he was having these dreams. In the past,
even though he never recalled many details of the nightmares he was
having, at least he was aware he was having them.
After
speaking further with his grandfather on this matter the next morning,
it was decided that he would visit with a Catholic acquaintance who
was a professor of folklore and the paranormal at a famous university.
Professor Mark Peters was also an expert on dreams and often used hypnosis
to help people delve into dreams and nightmares.
It
was decided that Trevor would visit with him on December 23, the other
day of the year when he sometimes had strange dreams. Professor Peters
hoped that if he put Trevor into a trance on that day he would be able
to converse with him about what his subconscious was inflicting him
with.
Trevor
had never been hypnotized before and was both anxious and curious about
what might be revealed. He went under rather quickly and when Professor
Peters brought him out from the trance several hours later he remembered
nothing of what had happened. He hadn’t even noticed the passage
of time.
As
Trevor awoke from this trance he felt a lot of the same disorientation
he had felt that earlier evening when his grandfather had awakened him
from the dream he didn’t know he was having. He sat up from the
reclining position he had been in and pulled on the spectacles Professor
Peters handed back to him.
“Mark,
did you find out anything?” Trevor inquired after standing and
stretching his arms and legs. He sat back down.
“Yes,
Trevor,” Professor Peters replied, “I found out plenty,
but I’m not sure how much of it I should reveal to you. I can
tell you this much - regardless of the nature of your very early nightmares
these dreams you have been having more recently are really visitations
of future events. These dreams, if we may still call them dreams, seem
to be taking you out of the realm of ordinary, linear time and revealing
something of your own future. They appear to be clustering around what
will be dates of significant events in your future life. To tell you
any more of what I have found out could disturb the delicate balance
between fate and free will. And even though you consciously recall nothing,
or next to nothing, after these dreams, your subconscious seems to be
preparing you to someday make the choices and decisions you must make
to fulfill your life’s work.”
Trevor
stared at the older man who was speaking to him.
“You
know, Mark,” he said after a while, “When I first started
having these dreams around age twelve, I had a feeling that they were
always about the same man, sometimes older, sometimes younger, but he
seemed vaguely familiar to me. That was the only thing about these dreams
that I could recall. What you are telling me is both more confusing
and more intriguing.”
“Trevor,”
Dr. Peters said, after a few moments of consideration of all that just
passed, “I think that you should allow me to hypnotize you again.
It may be worthwhile to plant a suggestion that whatever is going on
right now is not threatening to you. This may stop whatever is going
on deep in your subconscious from creeping into your conscious mind
as nightmares.”
He
walked over to Trevor and placed a hand on his shoulder, “I am
afraid that I will never live long enough to see the resolution of what
was revealed to me when I hypnotized you earlier. I always realized
that there was something really special about you and you must believe
that I now feel extremely privileged to have met you.”
Trevor
just stood in an amazed silence wondering what his older friend could
have seen revealed about his future that so moved him.
After
this session with Dr. Peters, Trevor was never again disturbed by these
nocturnal visitations; or at least not in a way that he was consciously
aware.
At
age 17, on one of his travels with his grandfather, he attended an exorcism
and the old woman who was the subject of this revealed to Trevor Bruttenholm
that he would always transit a line between Heaven and Hell. This revelation
caused him to recall the strange conversation he had had at age 15 with
Dr. Peters and Trevor Bruttenholm wondered what exactly fate had in
store for him.
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