The Shite Fantastic - A Hellblazer/Discworld crossover
By: Mozphoto
Hellblazer is the property of DC Comics/Vertigo. Discworld is the property of Terry Pratchett.
PROLOGUE
John was dreaming. Of course, to expect John Constantine to have pleasant dreams would be like a politician telling the truth: it ain't gonna happen.
Memories were flashing through his dreams, none of them good. Friends and lovers destroyed by the evil side of magic that John always attracted. Failed exorcisms ending with body parts strewn about a room and John committed to a mental asylum. Kit leaving him because of all the magic. His father's beatings. The constant fear that his niece, Gemma, will get drawn into his shit-filled lifestyle.
But then comes the worst, the man in the expensive suit running up to him.
"Mr. Constantine! Excuse me, I'm from Warner Bros. And we'd like to make a movie about you starring Keaneau Reeves!"
John woke up screaming.
Maybe Chas was right. Maybe he did need a holiday.
Elsewhere.
The First of the Fallen had noticed them before. The tiniest of rips in the fabric of reality. They were usually beneath his notice. But this one was different. There was such a massive store of magic on the other side of the rip, it just might be enough to rival HIS power.
But.
He couldn't just step through. He would need a host.
And so he waited.
Elsewhere.
The witches had come up to the Dancers to cut down any plant life that had grown to close to the stones. But they had taken a break for Princess Esme's feeding and changing. ("Ah! An infant princess. And her mother is a witch. Perfect!")
The First of the Fallen had come to the Discworld.
Hellblazer is the property of DC Comics/Vertigo. Discworld is the property of Terry Pratchett.
PROLOGUE
John was dreaming. Of course, to expect John Constantine to have pleasant dreams would be like a politician telling the truth: it ain't gonna happen.
Memories were flashing through his dreams, none of them good. Friends and lovers destroyed by the evil side of magic that John always attracted. Failed exorcisms ending with body parts strewn about a room and John committed to a mental asylum. Kit leaving him because of all the magic. His father's beatings. The constant fear that his niece, Gemma, will get drawn into his shit-filled lifestyle.
But then comes the worst, the man in the expensive suit running up to him.
"Mr. Constantine! Excuse me, I'm from Warner Bros. And we'd like to make a movie about you starring Keaneau Reeves!"
John woke up screaming.
Maybe Chas was right. Maybe he did need a holiday.
Elsewhere.
The First of the Fallen had noticed them before. The tiniest of rips in the fabric of reality. They were usually beneath his notice. But this one was different. There was such a massive store of magic on the other side of the rip, it just might be enough to rival HIS power.
But.
He couldn't just step through. He would need a host.
And so he waited.
Elsewhere.
The witches had come up to the Dancers to cut down any plant life that had grown to close to the stones. But they had taken a break for Princess Esme's feeding and changing. ("Ah! An infant princess. And her mother is a witch. Perfect!")
The First of the Fallen had come to the Discworld.