Constantine: Hell Bent
"John, we've got problems."
Angela burst through the door to John Constantine's apartment.
He turned to her.
"We've always got problems. What's the deal this time?"
"Attempted suicide."
John shrugged.
"This is the third attempt. For the same person."
"What's her deal?"
"Abusive boyfriend. She feels alone."
John knew how that felt. How cold that world was.
"Anything unusual?"
"He's a demon. Computer savvy. We were able to track him through his online contacts. Guess what his online handle is..."
John looked at her, waited for an answer.
"METSatan."
John chuckled. 'Stupid asshole.' he thought.
"Did you find him?"
Angela handed him an address, written on a scrap of paper.
"Yeah. Name is David Cunningham."
Constantine glanced at the address. Flagstaff, California.
"But, he's out of the country, on business."
"Where?"
"Canada, supposedly."
"Does she have anybody we can talk to?", John said, his thoughts growing grim.
"No, but he does. Internet contact that lead us to him. Online name is 'Tarot Visionary'."
Angela found where 'Tarot Visionary' lived. In LA, about three blocks from Constantine's apartment. Angela raised her hand to knock, but the door opened.
A blonde girl stood in the doorway.
"Come on in."
John gave her a quick once-over, using his psychic-feelers to see if anything was out of the ordinary. He sensed something strong...hidden. Familiar?
He decided it was best not to push it.
"Is this about David? What he did to Sheeana? I heard she ended up in Ravenscar again..." the blonde girl said, sitting down on the couch.
Angela showed her a picture, and she nodded, scrubbing her face with her hands.
They ended up talking. They found out that the blonde girls' name was Mika. She met David through a dating website.
"Do you know if David has any business contacts?" Angela asked, taking out a notebook and pen.
"He's unemployed. Got fired recently, so he said."
John thought. "Thanks," he said, and they left.
Angela made a phone call.
She assumed that David picked up the phone. When he said "Hello", his voice was high and squeaky.
Angela introduced herself.
"Oh, fuck." was the response. A click, and then dialtone.
"Damn, he hung up!" Angela slammed the reciever down.
"So he's home, this asshole?" John asked.
"Yeah. He's a demon, this METSatan guy?"
"So you said." John shook his head. "I think he's hiding."
"Hiding?" Angela asked, "From who?"
John just shot her a glance that spoke for itself.
"So, what exactly could his name mean? Met Satan?"
John shook his head. "Guess again."
It clicked in a second. "More Evil Than Satan? You have to be kidding me."
"Only one way to find out." He looked at her, giving her an almost warning glance. "Leave. I have an inter-religious call to make. See if you could pick David up. This should only take a few minutes."
Angela left. John didn't dare summon Lucifer like he did last time, so he thought. Drawing a Pentogram in charcoal, inverted, he sat in the middle.
Focussing all his energies in one general direction, he yelled at the floor, and what lie beyond.
"Hey! ASSHOLE!"
He felt Satan's response. The Dark Lord poked his head through the floor with an (almost) innocent look on his face.
"Yes? Needing Cyanide so soon?"
"Not quite. Noticing that some of your following is gone, and it's not my fault?"
Lucifer managed no nod, the look on his face was answer enough.
"Someone's claiming they're better at what you do...than you."
Satan laughed. "That's it?"
"He's beating a girl."
He laughed again.
"He's pissed off Michael."
He stopped. Apparently, enough of Lucifer's following --and with it, his energy-- had left, that He and the other Archangel were on equal footing, and Michael could put the hurt on him. Never defeat him, of course, but the thought scared Satan enough.
Lucifer's face grew serious.
"Who is this fuckhead?"
"David Cunningham."
"That dipshit! I'll deal with him."
"He's on his way. If you'll just kindly step into the kitchen, it'll make for a better entrance."
Satan didn't like obeying John's request...but he did like big entrances. He waited in the kitchen.
Angela dragged a man roughly up the stairs to Constantine's apartment.
"OW, fuck, what the hell is your problem, you bitch!?"
Angela cocked her gun, pointing it at his head.
"Silver bullets, made from Blessed crosses. Coated with Holy water."
"Holy shit..."
"Yes, they will kill you."
He said nothing.
They reached Constantine's apartment in silence. Angela pressed her ear to the door, and heard no sound.
Making sure the safety was off on her gun, she tried the door. Unlocked.
'John...what did you get yourself into?' she thought.
She opened the door, walking inside, smells greeting her nose.
'Bacon and eggs...? To hide the smell of sulfur, no doubt.' But she noticed there was still a slight undertone...
Constantine swept into the living room, completely opposite his character.
"Angela! Glad you're home." John had trays and plates in his hands. Leaning towards Angela, he whispered, "I tell ya, Satan is.." he shrugged, and she finished for him, "One hell of a cook?"
John nodded and spoke up.
"So... is this Paul?"
"David" was the response from Mr. Cunningham.
"Whatever. You've probably heard of me. Name's Constantine."
David's eyes widened.
"Oh, fuck."
"And your online name intrigues me. More Evil Than Satan, huh? Well, I made some calls..and it intrigues some other people too..."
The Archangel Michael walked into the apartment, determined not to miss David's cummupence.
"Did I miss the fireworks?"
John nodded to her. "No, you're just in time. David, meet Michael, Archangel of War."
David was panicking now.
'Mika' glanced at him, looking him up and down, having never met him. He was only (barely) five foot, with a scraggly beard, and was rail thin.
"You...think you're more Evil than...oh brother. I don't believe this."
She held her head in her hands, shaking her head. "He's actually working for the big guy?"
"The other one, yes." was John's response, "At least, that's what he thinks. So, we're doing him a favor. Introducing him."
David had been paying no attention since Michael walked into the room.
"Introducing me..to who..?"
John was happy to oblige Satan with an entrance.
"Oh, you know...the Prince of Darkness, the Big Papa, the One, the Only-"
Satan interrupted by walking in the room.
"I'm not affiliated with him."
He took one look at David.
"Listen Paul-"
"DAVID!"
"Whatever, Is your Dad a Politician?"
David nodded. Lucifer hung his head.
"Never mind. Damn, I am affiliated with him."
John looked at him, disappointed. "How?"
Satan was pissed. "Oh hell, I promised his Dad that I'd put him through Law School. Good guy. Made Hitler look like a wuss, and never got found out! But, as far as I know, wimpy-boy here became a used-car salesman."
"I...got fired."
"Them's the brakes, kid."
Lucifer paused, and then his face split into a wicked grin.
"I could...offer you a job...Your Dad's worried about you kid. Wants to bring you up right. Get you back on track."
David's eyes showed interest.
Lucifer pulled out a contract and pen.
"Sign here." he said, handing the pen to David.
David signed, without glancing at the paper.
"What's the job?", he asked.
"Some of my Upper Echelon need...physical company. I hope you like it rough, kid, 'cause they're all male."
As they left, for all eternity, David's screams echoed, until finally dying away.
Sweet Revenge. Oh, dear, sweet Revenge!