*The characters John Constantine, Chas Chandler, Zed Martin, and any other assets of the Hellblazer Universe are all property of DC and Vertigo Comics. Seriously, if I owned this stuff, I wouldn't be writing fan fiction, would I? Anyway, enjoy my first attempt at this stuff. Critiques are always appreciated.*
Rain fell in sheets across the countryside, as if the sky itself had cracked open. Water drenched the lush foliage of the surrounding wilderness, imbuing the world with luster. A narrow dirt road cut across the landscape, splitting the pristine scenery in two. A small taxi cab sped along the trail, bright yellow hues a stark contrast to the shining greenery around it.
Zed Martin leaned her head against the cool backseat window, staring thoughtfully at the trees that raced across her field of vision.
"Hey Chas, how long until we reach the millhouse?" Zed asked, watching the rain streak across her window.
Chas Chandler glanced into the rear-view mirror from the driver's seat, checking on his two companions in the back.
"Not much longer, I think. Should only be another half hour," he guessed, fiddling with the volume knob of the radio for the umpteenth time.
"Would both you lot kindly shut it?" John Constantine suggested drowsily, shifting in his seat to find a more comfortable position before settling down again.
Zed and Chas both turned to look at John, who was splayed unceremoniously across two of the three back seats, resting at an awkward angle as he cocooned himself in his signature trench coat. Sleep did nothing to hide the spidery wrinkles beginning to form around his tired eyes, or the state of his hair, unkempt and sticking blond spikes in all directions. John maintained a perpetual state of shagginess, neither dirty nor clean, but managing to appear presentable when the mood struck him.
"Some of us here are trying to sleep," he grumbled, eyes shut, head leaning back against the worn upholstery of the vehicle.
Zed stared at her sleeping friend for a moment before eventually returning her gaze to the window. Soft jazz music filtered quietly through the cab speakers as rain pelted the exterior of the taxi, filling the interior with a dull roar. Zed made herself comfortable as she leaned her head against the seat of the cab, staring lazily at the muted collage that streaked past the car. It wasn't long before sleep overtook her, and she then began to dream.
Zed has always had visions, or some would argue "dreams," though to her they were one and the same. She never knew what to expect from them, but she learned very early on in life that whatever occurred in her visions would in some way come to pass in real life.
Her father took notice of this very quickly, and he sought to use her to his advantage. He is the leader of a cult known as the "Resurrection Crusade," a fanatic following with an unknown goal. Since early childhood, Zed proved to be crucial to their plans, and they abused her gift for their zealous purposes. It was only in her early adulthood that she finally managed to escape the clutches of her father's organization, and forge a new life for herself. Since teaming up with John, she learned to hone and pay careful attention to her visions, so she could attempt to decipher whatever events the future held in store.
This vision was no different. As was now a habit, Zed attempted to memorize everything that was happening, not knowing what would be relevant later on. She peered around and found herself in what appeared to be a library. The smell of old paper and ink filled her nostrils. Sunshine streamed in through the windows, dancing off the dust motes that flew through the air.
Zed continued glancing about before realizing that there was a figure standing at the opposite end of the room. They had their back to her, apparently absorbed in something resting on the large, book covered table in front of them. Zed slowly advanced towards the figure, looking around for any changes in her surroundings.
As she approached, she was able to get a better look at the unknown figure in front of her. The most striking thing about them was the shock of bright red hair that draped down to their shoulders. A thin sweater hung from their slight frame. From the individual's shape and the length of their hair, Zed guessed that the unknown person was female.
Zed was close enough to where she could reach out and touch the enigmatic woman. She was inches from contact before the floor shook and a deafening crash filled the room. Zed looked around wildly, searching for whatever had made such a loud sound. The sunlight that had once filled the space with a golden glow shifted to sanguine as the floorboards at the opposite end of the room where Zed once stood erupted into the air, disintegrating into splinters as the destruction quickly made its way towards the two women. Zed tore her gaze away from the carnage, returning to the individual in front of her. The ambiguous girl appeared unaware of the encroaching destruction, still transfixed on whatever was on the table in front of her. Zed grabbed her shoulder roughly and hastily spun the mysterious woman around.
Zed awoke with a start in the back of the taxi. The rain had stopped and the trio had reached their destination. Chas killed the engine and turned to face his two friends.
"Wakey, wakey, you two. We're here," he announced, heaving his large body out of the car.
John awoke with a loud snore, clumsily exiting the cab before stretching out his back and rubbing his stiff neck, sore from sleeping in a contorted position. He promptly strode towards the millhouse, leaving Zed alone in the back of the cab. She hardly noticed, as she was concentrating on committing every detail about her dream to memory: books, sunlight, dust, a red-haired woman, and impending doom. She momentarily pondered what it all could mean, before quickly exiting the vehicle to catch up with her companions.
The millhouse was an old, dilapidated building, stuck at the end of a long, snaking road that disappeared into the dense foliage of the countryside. The large rotary wheel attached to the side of the decaying structure turned slowly, churning the archaic machinery within the building. Loose shingles and rotten siding made the domicile appear to be a million miles from inviting, but to the trio steadily advancing towards the front door from the parked taxi cab, it was home.
Chas unlocked the door with his keys and made his way inside, John following suite. Just before crossing the threshold, John looked back to see Zed staring at the trees along the edges of the clearing that held the millhouse, apparently lost in thought as she so often was. John called out to her, and it took a few attempts before he was able to finally gain her attention.
"Daydreaming there, love?" he chided, smirking as Zed met him at the doorway.
"Oh, sorry... I'm just thinking," she replied, pushing past him into the darkness.
John locked the door behind them and following Zed down the stairs leading into the heart of the building.
The exterior of the millhouse appeared neglected and abandoned, but that was only to distract from the marvellous powers contained inside. Deep within the shabby old hut was what was arguably the most extensive and varied collection of mystical artifacts outside of the occult black market. Every available surface was covered in odd items and trinkets. Maps, spells, and detailed tapestries covered the walls; jars, books, and the odd shrunken head or two lined the shelves. Every nook and cranny was occupied by something of occult significance. As such, runes and symbols blanketed the walls and floors, for protection, concealment, and also to contain the sheer power of the items within.
"And what is it that's got you so distracted?" John inquired as he stepped off the spiral staircase that led into the cozy sitting area, shedding his coat and draping it over the back of a nearby chair.
Zed plopped herself onto the large sofa opposite the red brick fireplace and picked up her sketchbook from the side table next to her.
"I had a vision on the way here," she answered, scrawling absentmindedly across the page. "I'm not sure what's in store for us, John, but something big is coming, something bad."
"Something big, eh?" John echoed thoughtfully, settling himself down in a musty armchair that had definitely seen better years, and lighting what was to be the fifth cigarette that day.
"Well, whatever or whomever it is, probably can't be any worse than this whole 'Rising Darkness' mess we've got ourselves wrapped up in," he remarked around the cigarette in his mouth, smoke trailing from his lips into the rafters above them.
Zed nodded and looked down at her sketchbook, realizing that she had been drawing during the entire conversation. She was now staring at a lazily sketched depiction of the strange woman she had seen in her dream. One thing that caught her eye was that the woman now appeared to have turned her head, giving a glimpse of her cheek and what appeared to be glasses sitting just above her ear. Zed shut the sketchbook and placed it back on the table, not wanting to think about whatever the future held for the time being.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spied a large cardboard box, "Rubbish" labeled in permanent marker on the side. Zed got up from the couch and walked over to the container, sifting through the contents inside. Among other odd trinkets, she found what looked like a portable radio. She lifted it out from the box and held it closer to examine it. The radio was small, black, and looked relatively old. There was a corded microphone crudely attached to the side, wires spliced into the hardware of the device. Bringing the radio closer into the light, Zed could see that the radio was completely covered in occult symbols. They appeared to have all been carved into the plastic casing with great care. She noticed that some symbols were larger than others, groups of runes densely packed against larger sigils and diagrams.
"What's this?" asked Zed, turning and holding the device up for John to see.
"Oh, that's just something I acquired from one of my contacts," he huffed, stamping out his cigarette.
"What's it do?" Zed carefully turned the radio over in her hands.
"Haven't the foggiest," John got up from his chair and walked over to the counter to pour himself a drink.
"The bloke that sold it to me, he really talked it up, said 'there was nothing in the whole world like it,'" John recounted.
"Well, I was interested enough, and it was cheap, so I bought it on a whim, only to come all the way home and find out that the ruddy thing doesn't work!" John scoffed. "I tried every trick in the bloody book to try to get that thing to actually do something."
"The man even came up with a God-awful name for it too," he added with a grin. "The 'Hellfire Radio' he called it."
"The Hellfire Radio, huh?" Zed whispered thoughtfully, as she placed the radio next to her sketchbook on the side table and returned to the box of junk.
"Ugh, and what about this?" she asked playfully, retrieving a bright pink thong from the depths of the box.
"Ah, that belonged to an ex of mine," chuckled John as he leaned against the counter, smirking at the sight of the neon undergarments.
"They certainly had interesting taste," Zed giggled, wondering who on Earth would own clothes like these.
"Yeah, he was quite the party animal, that one." John remarked, sipping his liquor.
Zed stifled a laugh as she dropped the underwear back into the box and returned to the couch, settling back down.
Chas suddenly appeared from around the corner, carrying a roll of paper.
"Been wondering where you went off to," John commented. "What's got you in such a hurry?"
"We got another hit on the map," Chas placed the map down on the large table at the center of the room.
"Oh, bloody hell," John lamented, rubbing his eyes. "We only just got here."
"Looks like it's somewhere over... Canada," Chas observed.
"What, really? Let me see that," John polished off his drink and strode over to the table, leaning over the map to get a better look, Zed following close behind him.
"Well, I'll be damned," he murmured.
The image that lay before them was a large, detailed depiction of the United States, marked with small splatters of blood. The map was created to pinpoint locations of future occult significance to aide John on his quest. When an event has come to pass, the corresponding blood droplet will boil and fester, marking its location on the map. This time, a small splatter above the borderline between two neighboring countries bubbled and shook, not to be ignored. The trio leaned in to inspect the location.
"Looks like somewhere near the west coast," Chas announced. "It's close to the border, so it shouldn't be that far of a drive."
"'No rest for the wicked,' I guess," Zed commented, gazing over the pockmarked map in front of her.
John sighed to himself and left the table, retrieving his coat from the chair he placed it on earlier.
"Well, in that case," he turned to address his friends. "You two be sure to get your things packed and ready, road trip starts first thing tomorrow."
With that, John slung his coat over his shoulder and disappeared around the corner of one of the many hallways that branched out from the main area, leaving Zed and Chas to themselves.
"Ever been to Canada?" Chas asked Zed, looking up at her from the table.
"Never. Have you?"
"Nope. Always wanted to visit, though."
Zed left the table to pick up her sketchbook, pausing to stare at the drawing she made of the mysterious woman from her vision. Chas noticed her hesitation.
"Everything alright?" he inquired.
Zed snapped out of her reverie and quickly slid her sketchbook under her arm.
"Hm? Oh, yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little distracted."
Zed was about to leave, when a thought struck her, and she turned around to face Chas.
"Do you think we're going to need sweaters when we're up there?" she wondered.
"No idea." Chas answered. "Guess we're going to find out."