A/n: Okay this is my first Constantine Fic. And hope it's not too terrible. Anyways what I think I'm going to do is (and please don't be mad at me for this) say Chas is not dead.

Please read and review (even if it is a flame, but if you insist upon flaming please make it constructive.) And I am looking for a beta so if somebody likes my story enough to want to do it, e-mail me or just put it in your review.

Thanks and enjoy the story.

Disclaimer: I do not own Constantine or anything else.

He was running as fast as he could, but they were still catching up with him. He knew they must have been some type of demon, but what kind, he could not tell.

Still he ran trying to get away from them. In the background he heard a voice scream in pain. He felt as if he recognized the voice but he could not put a name, or rather in this case a voice, to the face.

All he knew was that if he didn't get to the voice soon something terrible would happen. He was becoming out of breath now, but still he ran.

He was getting closer now, he could tell, mostly because the screams were becoming clearer. The suddenly it stopped, everything stopped, the screaming, the demons chasing after him, everything.

He searched around, as if looking for an answer as to why everything had stopped, but found none. He began to walk back to the direction of which he came when; one of the demons grabbed him and-.

John Constantine sat up in a cold sweat. As his breathing calmed he looked around the room, as if searching for something, but unsure of what it was.

He got out of bed knowing he would not be able to go back to sleep. He walked into his living room and pulled open all the blinds and look out at the city below him. He sighed and thought to himself 'Lucky bastards, they get to live fucking normal lives, I have this bull shit job of keeping the world rid of demons, or whatever the fuck it is I do.'

John eventually got up and got dressed. He slipped on his shirt and tie and pants, and then put on his shoes and trench coat walking out to the front of the building.

John stepped out of the building and began walking down the empty boulevards of early morning Los Angeles. He walked down the street knowing exactly where he was going, but still glancing around cautiously as if expecting something to pop out of no where.

He walked up the stone steps and into the church waking towards a place he had not been in a long time.

He sat in the confession box waiting for the priest to arrive. (A/n: I'm not exactly sure how confessions work because I'm not catholic, so please, bear with me.)

When he heard the priest sit down he opened his mouth to speak but his voice failed him. 'Guess this'll be harder than I thought' he said to himself and then began "Bless me father for I have sinned."

"How long has it been since your last confession?" The priest asked. John had to pause and think for a second so he could remember. "6 Years." John said barely believing himself that it had been that long.

He took the fathers silence as a cue to begin whenever he was ready. "I haven't been to church in 6 years and this morning it felt like something forced me here." "Well it's not as if you're a familiar face here every Sunday morning, maybe the Lord thought it was time for your awakening." The Priest said.

"Well it's not as if I woke up this morning and said to myself 'How about, even though I haven't fucking done it in 6 years, I go confess my sins to a priest who really doesn't give 2 shits about anything more than getting in to heaven.' But now days it seems like so long as you're not me you've definitely got a spot up there with Mr. High and Mighty." John said bitterly regretting having ever come here.

"First of all do not blaspheme the lord, and second of all though you don't seem to believe me, the lord has a purpose for everyone." The priest said in an all-knowing manner.

"I know that," John said as he stepped out of the confessional "I just don't understand why my purpose kills anyone I care for, or how about why does it fucking take away what's wrong with me and prolong this misery, well you know what?" John said as he looked up at the cross "God can take my purpose and shove it up his high and mighty ass."

And with that John Constantine walked out of the church thoroughly pissed off.

A/n: I know its short but it's just the first chapter so please read and review.

Type of Quote thing to describe John Constantine:

I can't stand the pain and I can't make it go away… why do I feel this way? If this is a game to God, I don't want to play anymore…