Lucifer's Hell Games
A/N: Hey everybody! I'm back again! I'm sad to see that nobody has given me a review for this story, but I am determined to see this story through! I've had this idea in my head for a while, so I am going to continue! I do not own Constantine, and if I did, there'd be some Lucifer and John moments. PLEASE R&R!
Bold italics = demon talking
Italics = thoughts
II
John stood in Hell, feeling the fire scorching his back. He looked around frantically. What was he doing here? He hadn't died, and he hadn't meant to come back. He saw the demons on Hell prowling towards him.
He gasped, eyes widening in surprise. He immediately turned around and began running away, frightened and scared. Why was he frightened? He was a wielder of the hand of God. He exorcised demons, and brought judgment down upon them.
John Constantine. Welcome back to Hell, the demons growled menacingly. They snapped their teeth, their eyes piercing his soul, shaking him to his core. This tight sensation in his chest…was it fear? Constantine…
He looked around and saw the faces of the dead flashing before his eyes. He yelled hoarsely in pain and dropped to his knees, clutching his head in pain. John Constantine…Constantine.
"I am…John Constantine," he whispered, his eyes becoming hard. "And this is a dream. I am not in Hell."
No, you're in Hell, john Constantine. You are in HELL, the voices hissed.
He shook his head and stood up slowly, turning to face the demons prowling and charging towards him.
"I am not in Hell…these are my memories," he said, clenching his fist. He stared at the demons and stood his ground. He watched as the demons ran towards him until his eyelids began drooping closed. The howling of the demons became faint and he came around to consciousness.
He lay on his couch, his head draped over his forehead and his shirt open wide. He stared around his apartment, the blinds closed and the shadows of human forms passing over him. He stared, trying to still the frantic beating of his heart.
"It was only a dream," he muttered to himself. Yet even then, he looked down at his chest, almost seeing Lucifer's hands buried in his skin, digging the cancer from his lungs. His stomach clenched as bile rose in his throat. So close to heaven, and yet that bastard had ripped it all from him.
"The only soul, huh? What a laugh," he said and heaved himself to his feet, shrugging into his usual dress suit. He strode out the door and into the street. He imagined it was time to pay Papa Midnight a little visit.
II
The demon watched silently from the shadows, once again trailing Constantine. It was unusual for the male to be out walking this late at night. It wasn't a part of his normal routine. He would go to his job, stop at the supermarket if he was out of cigarettes, and go home and stay there.
Where could he be going? The demon thought this over as he trailed behind, disguising himself as a human male. Greasy brown hair clung to his skull and his skin felt too tight for his comfort.
He turned sharply around a corner so as not to lose Constantine, and watched from the corner of the building as he entered some sort of night club. He watched John Constantine enter inside, and he frowned deeply. What was this place?
He inhaled and froze. These scents…they were half-breeds and demons.
He's walking right into a death trap! The demon thought frantically, staring back around the corner. Doesn't he know that there are both demons and angels in there? Is he suicidal? Oh wait…yeah, he was twice, why not three? He breathed in deeply then stepped out into the street light, striding towards the door to the club.
He was stopped by a guard, who held up a card with a smoking frog at a pond, fishing. He took once glance at it then said, "Two locks and a hundred lambs lost at sea." The guard nodded, putting the card back into his pile, unhooking a red rope.
He nodded in gratitude and walked inside, inhaling deeply to locate Constantine. But it seemed he had lost the scent in an ocean of a hundred other scents. Not only were demons and half-breeds here – humans were there too.
Smoke floated in the air, spiraling in funny shapes and rings. The smells of alcohol, blood, lust, and sex wafted into his nostrils. It reeked, and it took some restraint to not reach up and pinch his nose.
Your mission is to watch John Constantine, not to dwindle, he thought and moved around. He didn't make it too far in his search until he got stopped by a man at the bar, obviously drunk.
He stared at him (the man) in confusion and bewilderment. The man smelled like a human and alcohol.
"Can I help you with something?" he (demon) asked, arching an eyebrow. The human stared at him then whistled to the bartender, who instantly brought two beers.
"Sit down and have a drink. You're obviously new here, so it's on me," the man said, roughly pulling him down into his seat. The demon stared at this human who had not only stopped him from his mission, unkindly pulled him down into a chair, but also had the strength to even do such a thing.
"What's yer name, newbie?" the man asked, popping the top off his beer and tipping it back, gulping half of it down. The demon stared at him, quickly thinking through all the names he had ever heard. It had been a long time since he became a demon, and he didn't remember his true name. So he quickly came up with one.
"Darren," he said quickly, giving himself a new name to go by. He did like the sound of it after all.
"Darren," the man said, as if testing the name on his tongue. He stared straight ahead, an expression of deep thought on his face. "Well, Darren, my name is Azarel. I'm a regular here."
Darren grunted, not really understanding what he was still doing here in this seat and not tracking down Constantine. But he found his interest piqued at how this human possessed the strength to pull a demon. Perhaps it was from Darren being in his human form?
"Anyway, bartender. Another beer, please," Azarel called, waving his hand. The bartender was instantly there, saying something to the human male. Darren watched carefully, trying to figure out what it was about this man, and how he was so calm amongst demons and angels.
Or does he even know? He thought.
"I do know," Azarel responded then froze. Darren's eyebrows scrunched together and he looked at the human. "I mean, I know that you must be from out of town. Uh, nobody really dresses like that here in the city and smells like that."
Darren arched an eyebrow and looked down at his outfit. He hadn't really taken notice of it. He was in a black and white flannel shirt and tight jeans with boots. He grunted and eyed Azarel carefully.
"Uh, no, I'm from the- uh, country," he said, tripping over his own tongue.
Azarel nodded and quickly downed the rest of his beer then stood up just as swift. He tossed a few bills onto the counter and called to the bartender, "I'm paying for mine and his, Joe! See ya later!"
"Night, Azarel! See ya tomorrow!" the bartender, Joe, called out from serving a half-breed a glass of scotch.
Azarel turned back to Darren and gave a carefree smile, patting him on the back. Darren withheld the shudder at the tingling that flashed through his body from the spot on his backside.
"See ya later, Darren. Maybe I'll see you on another night during the red moon."
And before Darren could turn around and demand what he meant, Azarel had disappeared. Darren stared at the empty spot then at the bottle of beer in his hand. He sat there for a moment and finally downed the rest of his bottle and went in search of John Constantine, all the while trying to figure out the mystery of the man named Azarel.
II
Constantine walked into Midnight's office, tossing away the last of his cigarette.
"And here I had thought you wouldn't be idiotic enough to start that disgusting habit of yours, John," Midnight said, leaning back in his chair, sipping his glass of scotch. He still looked as young as he had years ago. John chuckled and plopped down in the chair before him.
"Yeah, well I guess I'm a contradiction to the term old habits die hard," John said, lighting up another smoke. He puffed out the haze and looked at his dear old friend. "So, what news do you have?"
Midnight stared at the man who sat before him. John had been nothing but a boy when he'd first encountered Hell. And even then, the time spent there must have been horrific. After two suicide attempts, it was surprising to hear of a third. Yet the man still kept his job as an exorcist, fighting away the devils that plagued him.
"John, you sure you should still be doing this? I mean, I know your apprentice just passed, but," Midnight started, but was abruptly cut off.
"Don't remind me, Midnight. I'm not here to listen to your ranting. I'm here for information," he growled, staring Midnight down. "I've had demons trailing me constantly, and half-breeds stalking my every move. Not to mention devils to Mammon now placing a freaking bulls-eye on my ass."
Midnight gave John a warning look about his language but inhaled slowly.
"I've haven't really heard any sort of valid information. Only little bits and pieces of rumors here and there."
"Anything could help me, Midnight," John retorted, tapping the ash off his cigarette, watching the balance keeper. Midnight stared at Constantine for a long time before finally starting to speak.
"There is talk of Mammon trying to find another way to get onto Earth. I haven't exactly heard how, but it deals with an old prophecy long forgotten in the Devil's Bible. I'm still trying to find out what prophecy exactly," Midnight began.
"What else?"
"How do you know there is more?"
"I just know."
Midnight stared at him before laughing, smirking at John.
"Sharp as ever. Good…the angels and demons have started coming down to try and keep your soul to their Lords. Demons for Lucifer, and angels for their beloved God," Midnight began. "Heaven and Hell have started to clash on Heaven, especially when that woman almost brought on the Earth destruction through her womb."
"Angela had no choice. What is done is done, and she is living a semi-normal life. She's even dating someone now," John snapped, looking Midnight hard in the eye. Midnight arched an eyebrow, leaning back further in his chair to stare.
"It's been some time since I've seen that look in your eye, John. Maybe having this event occur was better than I believed," Midnight said, and watched John's nostrils flare with fury. "Anyway, if I happen to get any urgent news updates, I'll be sure to give you a ring…John; this battle is becoming a lot more complicated than you or I."
"No shit," John said calmly, standing up. He put out his cig and walked towards the door, slamming it shut behind him. Midnight couldn't help the laugh when he heard Constantine's gracious parting words. "Damn right it's become more complicated. It's called I have demons riding my freaking' ass 24/7."
II
John stalked through the streets with irritation flooding out of his every pore. Rage was flaring inside his being, and his latest wounds begun to burn with fire. He panted and stopped at a traffic light, waiting for the walking light to turn green.
He flipped out a cigarette and lit it ablaze. He let out a stream of smoke and went into a coughing fit. His chest still hurt, but he made no comment to Midnite or anyone else on the matter. He wasn't about to get kicked out of a good paying job that could terminate some of his piling bills.
He snorted and strode across the walking lane, glancing both ways when he sensed the presence of demons and angels coming together somewhere very close to him. He stopped in the middle of the walkway, frozen in place. He stood there, looking both ways frantically, trying to locate it.
John Constantine…we see you. We hear you. We smell you, the demons taunted and he grunted, walking on with deliberate slowness. How amusing this was starting to become; demons now talking to him directly. He glanced over his shoulder and picked up the pace, seeing the same guy from an hour ago trailing behind him.
"Funny, I hear and see you too. But I don't have your damn good senses…I don't need them that much," he said to the wind, letting his voice carry. Dark chuckles echoed all around him, and he walked faster.
You running, Constantine? How valiant you really are; and how did our Lord take any sort of interest in a pathetic weakling like you? The teasing turned to dark, venomous taunting, and he grinned. The end of his cigarette burned with sparking embers as he turned a corner, heading for the desolate part of town.
I don't know. God ask himself yourself when I send you back to Hell.
You can try…
XX
A/N: Well, I would like to thank Semjaza, my first reviewer for this story! I'm glad that you're giving my story a chance, even if you don't like the pairing. I know it can be difficult to do that, especially since I am like that myself. As for this chapter, I know it still isn't very long, but I at least tried to make it longer than the last. Please review and give me your opinions, suggestions, critiques, and everything else between. Bye!
