Darkness. Amazing how one little word can strike terror into the bravest hearts. Some avoid the ebony raven's wings of darkness, some abide through it. Sometimes we linger the border of the dark and the light, struggling to find the balance through choice or through birthright. Some of us can see the shadow, and struggle to keep ourselves within the light for the tenebrosity is vast. This is one such story, some of you might know the past of it, others may not.
Willow trees reached their bare dead fingers into the ebony sky, their roots mangled in the tall grasses and stonework. Thunder rolled across the foreboding heavens as the humid air pressed in. It was just a perfect night, right about midnight. The strongest witching hour.
A figure walked through the graveyard, her hand touching the gnarled tree. Bare feet ringing in the stillness with ankle bracelets and the wind taking the small noise to the far corners of the Hayden swarthiness. Her other hand, clad with a Gothic black lacy glove, had a light that emitted out casting a calm but eerie cerulean glow upon the scene before her. Her skin was pale as the moon that shone through the approaching tempest. Her clothing black upon black, long multi-layered skirt with a corset to match the gloves on her hand that bore her magic, a silver pentagram of protection dangling from around her long slender neck held there by the finest black velvet choker. Her hair falling down her bare back in long blondish curls that seemed to glow hanging around her from the black hair falling from her head gracefully, her blue eyes piercing the darkness around her as small words in Latin escaped her ruby lips, showing themselves as an icy cold vapor in the air before fading away as a puff of smoke.
Focused and determined, the twenty-six-year-old woman made her way through the aeonian markers, giving careful thought to the ground her feet settled on not wishing to disturb any resting beneath the soft earth. Toward a grey silhouette of a crypt, she moved as water around stone with names, the destination gloomy and dark until a noise behind her made her turn sharply, the light emitting from her hand fading out.
"Bloody hell who is coming up here this late at night." she sighed, her hand going up to block out the dual headlights of a rapidly approaching vehicle. She now had company, and her clip was quickly running out for her spell that must be cast. The time was closing in faster than the reckless driver coming toward her. She squinted, making some of the brightness of the headlights dim to her vision and upon failing to see the red and blue lights she thought might be on top, she relaxed a bit. As long as it wasn't more teenagers coming to take their damn videos for on-line paranormal sites she could dismiss the passenger and sway them away. She was used to that.
To her relief the lights were cut with the engine, a figure getting out of the back of the bright yellow car. A light went from his side, illuminating a tan long trench duster, undone in front revealing dark pants and a white shirt disheveled from the waist up, a red tie loosely around the neck of the stranger. The lilliputian flame flared as a cigarette was lit, showing the man's five o'clock shadow.
"A bit late for a walk, love." his voice called out as the first light ended with a clank of a metal Zippo lighter and found its way back into the pocket of the man who was now approaching her.
"I'm not out for a walk but you need to leave. Please "love"" she responded things unseen around her starting to move. She had this curse from birth, seeing the unseen. This third eye drew her here, it called her name like the darkness that pressed in around her. All she could do to make it stop was to purge the restless spirits that were told to rise every night. Sometimes it was stories by locals, sometimes it wasn't. The newspapers, grapevine, as well as her very own intelligence mixed with many hard years of experience, pointed her way, often her travels ending in places like this. Everyone was against her, looks of disgust were nothing new. She saw past all that people around her saw and shuddered at the things that came to light. Evil whispering in peoples ear, darkness pouring from the chests of those wandering by. Sometimes… barely ever but still it happened to her before, light was around a person and she took solace in it. No one else noticed, no one else cared to, and she didn't dare speak a word of it freely, but the man in front of her although he never saw it himself, had such light. Now to trust him or not.
The man gave a sarcastic chuckle as he approached.
"You're messing with things you don't understand… what is that outfit? Are an amateur witch? Maybe Voodoo is more you're gothic style"
A small noise of disapproval escaped the woman's lips, her head tilted up to see the stranger in the face.
"Hardly. Now go. I have things I need to do." she turned to go, her vision giving her the sight the ground was moving beneath them, heaving up as if the very dirt needed a breath, the slowly lowering as it exhaled.
"I have things to do too" the stranger grunted, pushing past her toward the crypt opening a bag at his side and getting out candles.
What was this man doing? Another nut trying to summon things instead of leaving it to the professionals. She looked around at the spirits that were coming from the ground, the man in front of her completely oblivious to them, or so it seemed. She stepped lightly closer, raising her hand that glowed as a whisper from her lips lit all the candles the man was setting up.
"What the hell!" he exclaimed, stepping back. "Oh bugger this is worse then I thought."
"I did it." she retorted over the wind that was picking up "You're… making a protection circle? Kinda at least." she inquired, kneeling beside him watching him draw on the broken dank concrete with chalk and leaning forward, her fingers start to fill in the symbols he hadn't yet drawn, not writing device in her hand.
Stopping and running his hand through his dirty blond hair he watched, light coming from the woman's beautiful fingers, the glowing letters and symbols appearing with just her touch and a few words he was uttering only moments before coming from his lips.
"You're doing it wrong" he elbowed her, marking what she was doing with his own symbols, in return brought out the young woman's snarky and crude insults wiping his marking away with her skirt and doing her own.
"Says you, Brit." she scoffed, having enough of this man beside her and he was only here for a few moments.
"Easy woman." he stopped flicking his now lingering ash from his cigarette his eyes staring coldly at her as she finished his circle.
" And you say I'm the amateur." she closed her hand the light fading from her fingertips and looks at him. "What do you think you're doing? Are you trying to summon this thing?"
"Bloody hell" he whispered as rain started to fall, turning up the collar of his trench coat "I don't know who you think you are but I'm John Constantine."
"Congratulations you have a name besides 'Bastard'" she rolled her eyes the name meaning nothing to her.
"Usually that's when you say your name, love." a small chuckle coming from his chest watching her finish up the spell, the earth around them settling as a howl whistled through the trees at the approaching storm. He usually would have persisted in doing it himself, but he had a mild curiosity in another mage, which this women definitely was.
"Mia," she said simply the rain dripping down her fair skin as the candles went out, a distant tower bell ringing midnight. She did it, just in time. Running her fingers over the crypt dates and names the unknown occupant was kept where he needed to be, dead, on the day of his death by unknown causes.
"Last name Mia?" he pushed her, watching her get up and turn to leave, her job and his, done.
"I don't know. Dad never was around and mother said last names aren't safe for us."
Getting up he brushed the grass from his knees and lit another smoke, watching as she did the exact same thing at the same time as if they were moving in perfect synchronization with each other despite the last few moments of them being with each other was an unseen competition for knowledge dominance.
"Makes the pain go away, dunnit?" he nodded offering his light.
"A moment" She was about to light her own from her fingers but leaned into his flame lighting hers as he gave a small nod. "A good drink does more"
"Hungry?" he asked, his shoulders lifting in a shrug.
"We just kept a spirit from coming back to this earth it doesn't belong in."
"Suit yourself. Have fun in this storm then mate." He turned to the car to leave her there, pausing with an unseen smile on his face hearing her bare feet sludge through the grass behind him.
"Of course for the love of God, I'm famished." Mia barely whispered, not wanting to show any weakness toward him. He needed a firm voice and someone to show him he wasn't all he thought he was, and she was just the person to show him.
He wasn't a bad mage, he really was doing everything right, despite her words. She lived to see people rilled up somehow making her feel better about herself when she could accomplish it. Not many people liked her and she could tell, not many people liked him either. Maybe they could be unliked together. Maybe... one big unliked family. Family...that would be nice.
A smile broke his weary face again, hand rubbing his chin as he watched her confidently walk to his waiting car, opening up the side he immersed out of.
"Cheeky," he muttered going to the other side getting in.
The man in the front seat looked in the rear-view mirror, his hand rubbing his thick dark beard, dark eyes going from one to the other of his occupants, clearing his throat wanting an explanation he knew he wouldn't get.
"Look at you, poor dear," he said quietly, a benevolent and truly sympathetic smile spreading to his face as he handed a blanket back to her.
"Why thank you." Mia said a smile pressed on her own as she wrapped it around her, sinking down into the dry warmth "I didn't know a man like this one traveled with people with manners."
A small chortle came from the front seat.
"John's not that bad, just need to get to know him. I'm Chas"
"And I am Mia." the sough from the seat beside her making her grin even more.
"Bloody good we all have names. Just go to a diner or something."
"Please. Nights like these always makes me want a hearty strew and a strong cup of coffee." the woman beside him nudged him pretending she didn't have enough room as she leaned over the mages lap to throw her smoking cigarette butt out the open window.
"You do have a window on your side love." he watched her across his lap as he lit himself another one.
"And its closed now isn't it?" she shook her head sitting back up. "And you call yourself a mage."
"More like professional demonologist, master of the dark arts." He slumped down in his seat, arms crossed and pretending to doze off but really ignoring the sweet sound of her laughter that filled up the car.
"Yeah, you sure are a master. You used candles and a lighter when I didn't have to."
"Shut up."
Chas looked in the mirror at her with a grin.
"You mean that you can do that? You're more of a mage then I thought. We thought you were one of those kids who come into a cemetery to just poke around and scare the crap out of each other."
Mia shook her head leaning forward, her conversation with the man in the front seat more inviting then what she had for a long time.
"No way I thought that's what you were. I came because I heard that tomb had an unknown man in it, that passed away today many years ago. I worried that his spirit was restless so I came to make sure he stayed dead."
"Then it seems you have a mission similar to ours."
"Not all we do mate." the gruff voice decided to join the others "Much much more than that."
"Well me as well, I have many things I have to dabble myself in, this is just a walk in the rainy gloomy park tonight."
"I bet you do."
"Be nice John."