The Midnight Sons

Part Two : Act One

Machinations Of A Black Heart

Humans. How much I hate you. How much I yearn to tear open the ground beneath you and damn you forever to the pit of my present imprisonment. You have no idea what it feels like, the weight of Hell crushing down on you, unable to die, wandering through the underworld blind and deaf. My father sought to discipline me, but in my silence and solitude I hatched a plan to usurp his pitiful regime in a grand coup. I had to search the deepest bowels of Hell to find one wicked enough to serve my purposes, I found servants in The Violator and an army of Hellspawn, I found an accomplice in a fellow devil child, similarly imprisoned by a tyrannical patriarch. And a lieutenant in the form of the psychotic angel Gabriel.

My agents are all around, they have infiltrated every city on the globe, they stalk the alleyways and rooftops at night, harvesting new souls for our ever expanding army of Hellspawn, odd it is that I never utilized them before, so apt they are in the ways of warfare that I doubt even Mephistopheles' precious Rider could halt my ascension to godhood. But just as an insurance policy, I have dispatched one who may yet end the threat of a continual thorn in my side and though I still lie in this place of imprisonment, my thoughts are as powerful as they are all reaching. There are numerous threats to my machinations and if played right, this next endeavour will wipe them all out.

Act Two
Constantine; John Constantine.

John Constantine spent his entire life in the city of Angels, 'Angels?' he would often think to himself, 'Whose bright idea was that?' True enough the city possessed angelic half-breeds in abundance, drawn to the place where the boundaries separating Earth and the other worlds were weakest, but this also attracted their demonic counterparts. Most people had never heard of them, much less seen them, but the demons were easy enough to pick out, if you've ever been walking down a street and suddenly shivered then you've just walked right past one.

Now this door was all that separated him from Hell, this flimsy apartment door, no more than three inches thick, he knew what was on the other side. He hefted his trusty shotgun on one shoulder and fished a vial of Holy Water out of his pocket with the other hand. Taking one last breath he kicked the door open, the half breed was right there, waiting for him in plain view; mistake. Even as the vial left his hand he was taking aim, the glass broke, the water scolding the feeble half breed flesh from bone, leaving the demon open to attack.

Taking another breath he eased back the trigger, the demon hit the ground hard, squirming in place, clearly in agony. Walking toward him, Constantine stood over his prey, he cocked his weapon again, shoving it straight down the half breed's throat. As the creature stared up at him in disbelief he yanked the trigger back again, ending one more threat to his city. "Not in my town." He said throwing aside his gun he fished a packet of cigarettes out of his pockets, empty. "Figures."

"That it does." A voice came from over his shoulder, not pausing or checking to see who it was John rooted in the other pocket and found his last cigarette. Lighting it and taking a drag he turned and puffed a smoke ring in the newcomer's face.

"Balthazar." The demon made a polite bow, which ironically came across as the rudest of insults, taking another drag and blowing another jet of smoke in the half breed's face he carried on, "Thought I killed you this week."

The demon gave an almost camp shrug, still retaining the burn marks on one side of his face from when he'd last fought Constantine, "Well you know I do have VERY good life insurance." He pointed downward with one finger to emphasise his point, "But John, if we don't settle your debts this time Mammon's gonna kick my ass." Balthazar thrust an arm forward, slamming John against the wall, he fell limply to the floor.

Balthazar stalked across the room, sliding a hand along the wall as he approached John. He made it to the small window which gave the room most of it's light, his eye wandered outside and he froze, petrified. A shaft of golden light ran through him, killing him instantly and causing him to erupt into a cloud of ash. Constantine made a b-line for his shotgun, slinging it over his shoulder he took a glance out the window, another beam of light flashing by him. He dropped to the ground before making a break for the door. Apparently someone other than the devil was after his hide.

Act Three

The Punisher

War Journal Entry: Supplemental

Before you read on it is imperative that you understand one thing. Frank Castle is dead, he died with his family, but I'm back, now it's their turn to die. I don't know how, but I'm alive, alive and for some reason I have been granted access to all the weapons in Heaven, on the condition that I do not use them for destruction I have been given almost boundless power, being dead it's not as if I can fall in combat that easy. But one things for sure, I'm no angel.

Act Four

Crossroads

Spawn perched on the side of the church, he could hear groaning still coming down from that infernal cross. Many a time now he'd though of bounding up there and impaling that foul, wretched man just for disturbing his sleep. But that would end his suffering and Spawn knew he deserved to suffer. Stupid human.

Looking down on the street below his sense were suddenly assaulted by a demonic force, he bowed his head and clutched it in his hands as if trying to block out some insufferable noise, attempting to hone in on the source of this horrible feeling his eyes focussed down on the street. The bike, that was it.

"My apartment's only around the corner." Angie said into Johnny's ear over the roar of the bike's engine. He'd agreed to give her a lift to anywhere she wanted to go, not only because he was charitable like that, but because he had nothing better to do and it was always nice to spread the fear of Ghost Rider among the scum of humanity both near and far. Johnny's hand shot to his head, massaging his temple, to anyone else it would seem that the noise of the traffic he'd been sitting in for oh, three hours was getting to him. But he himself knew that it was something entirely... different. He barely had time to push Angie out of the way when the SUV which had been hurled at them sandwiched him between in and another car. It was at that point that the street started to clear. Rapidly.

It was also at this point that the SUV blew apart, scattering twisted metal everywhere as Ghost Rider strode out of the wreckage, twisting his neck the bones cracked audibly. He rolled his shoulders and produced the same affect, he might have been immortal but damn if it didn't hurt. Before him there stood a figure shrouded by a blood red cape, looking at him with piercing eyes. "Nice threads." He commented as he wrapped his chain around his hand, forming an improvised knuckle duster. "Too bad." They both surged forward, fists already swinging and the street erupted into a scene befitting Armageddon.