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I don't own anything. Please enjoy and review! I'll get started on the next chapter.
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The next few days passed quickly, most of the day was spent fighting the endless hordes and most of the night was spent restoring their strength. They spoke a few times, though not again about their relationship. It was not awkward, but there was an unspoken agreement to focus on the tasks at hand. They would save further conversation and logistics for when they got back home. For now… the horde is everlasting.
Day 7
The two warriors had fallen into a rhythm, they woke up at the same time, they had a quick breakfast, got suited up, and departed for the hordes. The morning of their seventh day they did all this in silence, and only on the way to their preferred field of battle did one of them comment on what they both knew. For at this point they felt conflicted about it being their last day in Gehenna, they were beginning to feel tired of the monotonous task; beginning to worry that its repetitiveness would lull them into complacency, and cause one of them to err. However, there was some primal need that was fulfilled by their closeness to nature and their constant toil with immediate and obvious consequences. They were defending humanity, and that meant something, drove them on when boredom or exhaustion threatened to turn into slothfulness. There was also the unspoken mutual realization that the time together had been enjoyable in a strange, painful way.
"It's our last day." Diana stated matter of factly. "Judging by when we appeared in this world, we will probably be sent back near the end of the day."
"I doubt the Gentle Man will be exact in the switch, he will probably grab whatever moments away he can justify to himself. So I would expect the switch to happen a few hours later in the day then our arrival occurred."
Diana nodded. "Can hardly blame him, I can't imagine spending thousands of years here."
Bruce pointed in front of them, "Look alive."
They drew makeshift javelins from leather quivers on their backs and cocked them back.
"3...2...1…" Diana counted and then they both stepped forward, shifted their weight on to their leading leg and threw their javelins up into an arc. The javelins rotated, drilling their way up into the air, the weight of their heads pivoted them downward and toward the earth. They picked up more and more speed until they slammed into their targets, gravity and the strength of their throwers giving them the necessary force to tear through hundreds of pounds of flesh before coming to rest.
Two of the horde fell about 60 meters away. The rest of the horde that had already arrived looked from the corpses to Bruce and Diana and began to charge. They decided to throw another javelin each despite only having three, this being their last day. After loosing the javelins they dropped their nigh empty and cumbersome quivers to the ground just before the horde reached them. The duo obstructed the path of a particularly large one and watched as it ran straight into their spears. Before it could slump over on top of them and pin them down with its mass, they shoved it off with their shields. The pair spun and used its body as a wall to protect their backs.
This worked for a while, a ring of bodies forming at spear-length from them, but they soon had to change tactics as the monsters began climbing over their dead comrades and tried to jump onto them from above. Bruce's spear became temporarily irrecoverable after one dropped from above and he stabbed up into it, he let its weight swing it away from him like a pendulum, but it had already slid down the spear near halfway. Before the ring of corpses completely enclosed them they leaped over a carcass and out of the ring, doing their best to push through the thin line of creatures before them.
Diana received particular resistance from one that planted itself and pushed back. Bruce quickly dispatched the beast from the side, but not fast enough to save Diana from a moderate bruising when the claws of a creature behind them connected with her left arm guard. She grunted, but took it in stride, sliding the body of her shield and breaking through the line with Bruce. They outpaced the horde, which was now stumbling over their own dead, in a jog, putting a few meters between them and the everlasting.
Diana rotated her left shoulder and shook it out. "Is it just me or are they fighting harder today?"
"I'm with you although I don't know why they would be."
"Maybe they know the Gentle Man is coming back?"
"Could be, but why would that make them fight harder?"
Diana shrugged and then gave a very Amazon cry back at one of the monsters that had roared at her before driving her spear through it. Bruce dismembered a limb swinging towards him and swung back at its former owner, eviscerating it. Diana roared, both of them charging into the mass and letting their instincts take hold, years of hard training piloted them more than conscious decision. Beasts fell before they had time to process their presence. Diana hit a particularly vital spot on one and used her shield to block the arterial spray as it perished from blood loss in front of her. They would not look pretty when they got home.
This continued for at least an hour before they caught a break. They cleaned off what was necessary to clean as quickly as they could, it would not be long before the horde proved itself everlasting once more. Bruce removed Diana's left shoulder guard and applied an ointment under her sleeve.
"You're on my right when they get back."
Diana quelled her Amazonian pride telling her to insist she was fine. It may have been a superficial wound, but even a superficial wound can affect how you fight. They sat for a few minutes drinking water and regulating their breathing. Then the blood and gore continued. They felt like they were wading through death, any conflictedness about leaving soon was resolved by the horror of battle. It was one thing that humans were not meant to get used to. They had each developed their own mental callouses to death, but causing it on such a mass scale was new. It helped that they were fighting creatures that were clearly not sentient; what did not help was the feeling they got that each one carried a little bit of the person who supposedly sinned to inadvertently create it. They did not want to question why this place existed or how some of the beasts had come into being, but they found themselves asking those questions anyway. Curiosity is a plague.
After several days fighting the hordes, they were starting to get a feel for the sin tied to some of the bigger monsters. The other day they had fought a massive two-headed creature that seemed to radiate a feeling not unlike guilt. Bruce and Diana did not know how they knew, but they later agreed that it was the result of someone cheating on their spouse. They assumed its second head was due to the other "participant" being aware that the first was cheating and still going through with it. They had begun to wonder if the Gentle Man was acutely aware of the sins of mankind. Their respect for him had grown with each day.
Hours of massacre caused them to fall into trance, and soon enough the sun was low in the sky, signalling an end to the hordes for the day. Bruce ran at the last one and swung his shield at it with so much force that the air around it sang and the creature's head gave an audible crack upon impact. It's head hit the ground and Bruce crushed it beneath his heel. The already fractured skull easily gave way to his boot. A shiver ran up his leg and then up his spine, when it reached his head somehow he knew that the beast had been the result of a late-term abortion; a very late term abortion.
He looked at Diana, then at her stomach, empathy for this unknown child overcoming him seemingly out of nowhere. He fell to his knees, feeling anger well up inside of him. His yell sounded through the plain, empty but for corpses and two heroes; two heroes that felt more like soldiers than saviors.
Diana walked up to him. "What was that one?" Her compassion evident.
"The end of a life that had not yet begun...It's a good thing I never spoke on politics much as Bruce Wayne. Otherwise I would probably be regretting what Bruce Wayne would have said."
"Alright, we still haven't been pulled out, so let's see if we can clean up some before we are."
They cleaned up some and walked back to the cave-house. Once there they finished cleaning up, cleaning each piece of their armor individually and then putting it back on so that if they were transported they would not leave any pieces behind. They sat and waited, the sun had long set and they began to grow tired. They waited a while more before deciding that it was probably safe to sleep. It would not be too big of a deal if they were magically transported while sleeping, and so, the two did their best to get comfortable in their armor.
Day Eight
Diana woke up feeling really groggy, her armor had dug into her in several places as she slept and she could tell that she did not get eight hours. Bruce sat in a chair nearby, staring off into the distance, pondering.
Diana looked around, the cave-home surrounding her. "So, he has yet to come."
Without looking at her, Bruce nodded. "It would appear so."
Tired and frustrated they made their way to the fields...the horde is everlasting.
London, A Week Before The Gentle Man Leaves Gehenna
This particular bar was usually quiet, that is why he liked it. He downed the rest of his drink and looked at the bartender. The bartender gestured towards a door in the back of the bar. The patron stood up, slid a gold coin with a latin inscription on it to the bartender as a tip, and moved for the door. He tried to open the door, but the knob would not budge at all. He muttered a few words and the knob turned itself, he pushed the door open and stepped through into what at first was a hallway, but morphed into a stone brick room lit by candles. There was a single bookshelf filled with occult texts and arcana and various occult items scattered throughout the room, clearly an initiated but largely unpracticed sorcerer's study. Two forms began to take shape in front of him and he was soon standing face-to-face with demons.
"Do you have my order?"
One of the demons held up a parcel. "We almost got caught by Hades procuring these, fee's gone up."
"Do I look like a fool to you? We agreed on five, that was hard enough to get."
"You aren't going to find another acquisition service willing to deal with the logistics of transporting goods from Tartarus, so we set the price. Ten, not a coin less, Constantine."
"Fine. I'm surprised you still use drachmae, we're running out up here, it's an absolute bloody nightmare to find any."
The demons looked at each other. "Well then you'll be happy to know that many in our line of work have noticed a slow in sales over the past hundred or so years so there's been a push to switch to USD."
"Personally I can't wait, the US dollar as the symbol of consumerism in the modern world has absorbed far more human greed than any other currency. But Tartarus means the Ferryman, and the Ferryman means drachmae." The other demon added.
Constantine finished getting out and counting the drachmae and was about to hand it to the demons when both hellspawn flinched simultaneously. He withdrew his hand.
"What are you sods hiding?"
The first demon gestured frantically. "Nothing, just give us the money and we'll give you the goods."
Constantine tentatively reached out his hand to give them the drachmae, but the demons continued to grow more impatient, fear beginning to appear in their eyes. Seeing this, Constantine slowed down and muttered a hex under his breath hoping the demons would not hear.
"Just hurry the fuck up, Constantine!"
"Why? What the bullocks has got you two so riled up?"
The demon with the bag of goods opened up a hell portal. "Too late, deal's off."
Both demons practically ran through it, but the bag got caught on the portal and started glowing a bright yellow.
The demon stuck his head back through the portal. "Fuck you, Constantine." And dropped the bag.
Constantine smiled and tossed two drachmae through the portal. "There's one for each of you wankers." As the portal closed he shouted after them. "It was a simple dimensional binding hex you know! If you had stuck around for a few seconds you could have broken it!"
He bent down to pick up the bag and when he stood back up he was greeted by a bright, luminous figure standing in front of him.
"Gabriel! What a surprise!" Constantine said in a sarcastic tone. "I was expecting an angel after the way those demons were acting, but God's personal messenger...what an honor." He gave a mocking bow.
Gabriel looked around the room. "Why you deign to lower yourself to these dark and pitiful creatures I will never understand, John Constantine."
The Archangel spread his wings and the room filled with light, thousands of dollars worth of dark magic ingredients, tools, books, etc. turned to dust. Before the room had a palpable darkness hanging in it, now the room felt like any other, all the magic dispelled. Constantine looked in the bag and saw that his mushrooms from the cracks of Tartarus had also disintegrated.
"What the bloody hell, Gabriel! I paid for those."
Gabriel raised his eyebrow, knowing exactly how the transaction had taken place. "We have a task for you, Constantine."
"Well, blimey, you know me, errand boy for the angels. Why don't you sod off, fetch me some more mushrooms, then we'll talk."
"The reward Michael is prepared to offer you is far greater than any paltry item."
"If this is so important, why doesn't he come himself?"
"The commander of the heavenly hosts is in pitch battle with the enemy, battling far worse than you have ever encountered."
"Yeah, yeah. Fine, you've got my attention, don't waste it."
"A week from now a prisoner will be temporarily released from his sentence. You are to be his guardian and his warden and when the time comes you will return him to his prison."
"Who's the prisoner and what's the reward?" Constantine remained highly skeptical that this would be worth it.
"A lowly nephilim, you should have no trouble handling him. As for the reward, we have heard your prayers, your silent cries into the night. We will get you an audience with Astra."
All smugness left Constantine's face, all pretense of control or confidence. He grabbed Gabriel by the robes. "How dare you say her name! Don't mock me! I'm not a toy you can play with!"
"I assure you, Constantine, the offer is real." Gabriel remained motionless.
The warlock shook the archangel. "Swear it! Swear it on the Living God you serve!"
Gabriel's eyes grew wide for a moment before chuckling slightly. "There he is. There is John Constantine. Sometimes I forget you humans are capable of free will. You follow your passions like dogs on leashes so often that when one of you breaks free, it surprises us. Very well," Gabriel took a deep breath, "I swear by the Living God, I speak the truth."
Constantine let go of Gabriel's robes and regained his composure. "Very well, give me the details."
The bartender and amateur sorcerer began to grow worried. His customer had been in his study for a while now and the transaction should have been quick. He was about to go check on the proceedings when the scruffy, trenchcoat-clad man emerged from the door. He walked briskly towards the door, but before leaving he stopped and spun around, facing the bartender.
"You might want to choose a new place to cast spells and summon demons, I'm not sure you'll have much luck in there anymore." Constantine nodded toward the study and left the bar.
Several patrons overheard this and looked up in curiosity and confusion. However they promptly chalked it up to a drunken outburst and went back to focusing on their own drinks.