B.P.R.D.: 1946

Let’s start with some background for those unfamiliar with Mike Mignola’s universe of horror. Rooted in “Hellboy,” but extended through various high-quality affiliated series, this world is host to old gods and occult terrors. Imagine a world where desperate Nazis tried to win the Second World War by stockpiling vampires and summoning demons, and you pretty much have it.

The Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense (B.P.R.D.) is charged with keeping these nightmares in check, often at the expense of their own lives and sanity (echoing the influence of H.P. Lovecraft). The group has operated since the Second World War, and the series hops between that time and the present day, in arcs written and illustrated by Mignola and/or collaborators.

This installment, written by Mignola and Joshua Dysart and illustrated by Paul Azaceta (with Mignola doing covers) is set in Berlin at the end of the World War Two. B.P.R.D. head Trevor Bruttenholm is racing the Russians to unravel the dark mysteries the Nazis may have uncovered. He’s assigned a group of five grunts to help him along. They’ve fought their way across Europe and are only interested in going home…until they realize the threat represented by the sinister things the Nazis left behind.

On the whole, it works. It’s well-plotted and well-characterized, with the soldiers dropping more of their skepticism with each round of weirdness. It’s connected to the large, barely comprehensible universe that Mignola has constructed. Azaceta’s art is excellent, equally adept at distinguishing soldiers in uniform and conjuring glass-brained gorilla superbeasts. He maintains the thick, menacing lines and alien shapes that Mignola has established as the house style.

The story has a few problems. The threat level is never entirely clear. Partly due to some choppy combat scenes, our heroes escape what seems to be sure doom with just a few nicks. The final chapter verges on camp too, with an escalation that seems to undermine B.P.R.D.’s grand stakes.

But B.P.R.D. 1946 is a dense, engaging tale of terror. Anyone who enjoys helplessness in the face of some great unknown will find much to like here.