This time he really believed he could make it. It was the second time he had tricked death, tricked Lucifer himself. He'd worked hard for it; who would question that? And he felt good about himself for once, having- once again- become Constantine. The John Constantine. This was a new start, a new life.

But the Devil played dirty.

John knew something was wrong. He started suspecting it a few days after his meeting with the white-costumed man. He was used to seeing creatures others could not see, but it wasn't the presence of demons and angels that puzzled him anymore. Now he could see more disturbing things- in time he started wondering if he was just imagining them, if someone was playing with his sanity.

It happened one day at the street. He was sure that she was smiling at him, a girl with bright eyes, long hair; the type one could not ignore. He watched her mortified, the cigarette between her lips burning slowly. And she was staring at him suggestively as she inhaled the smoke, always smiling. What was she smiling about? He felt the urge to shout at her for smiling too much. But then she returned into the huge tableau she had come from, skin, eyes, and hair turning to paper. A photograph, she was just a photograph.

He stayed there looking at the huge commercial, knowing that others didn't see what he had just seen. People passed through him. And he still couldn't move; the girl from the billboard had come to life. For him. For seconds.

And then it started happening every day. Marlboro Man would ride his horse so energetically, sun-kissed face and the wind in his hair. And the young women blew the smoke in a way that screamed sex, and they seemed to be smiling at him, only him. His tongue missed the taste of tobacco; even his lungs seemed to miss the disease that had been violently ripped off. His mouth would go dry; he wished he could taste it once again…

It was happening everyday.

And it seemed that the smoke was just the start. He resisted for days, then his senses began longing for things he hadn't even been addicted to. Alcohol- he found himself licking his lips at the thought of it; the whores in the night streets seemed to be calling for him like decadent sirens. Everything was begging him to embrace sin.

That night it rained. The sirens were nowhere to be found, the water that clarified everything had exorcised them. He reached his house alone, as he did every night.

"You are doing this…" he whispered, resting his head on the cold surface of the bathroom mirror as he dried himself; the recollection of his day being nothing but an effort to run away from things he would rather taste. His tongue slipping on his lips, reminding him of the sin he was avoiding. The mortal body was reacting, defying his mind's control.

And then, he smelled it.

Raising his glance, his eyes met a tired face in the mirror, his face. He looked like a desperate man lost in a desert, doomed to fight hunger and thirst while he was being surrounded by waterfalls and fruit; surrounded by things that would send him straight to hell if he savored them. But this time the smell was real, it wasn't his imagination any more. And as he entered the living room, he already knew what he'd find there. Suspicions confirmed; the Devil had paid him another visit.

"You have done quite an entrance." he huffed. "Why? To impress me, demonstrate your power? You are doing this… but you have no right!"

The older man simply smiled at him, that same scornful smile John was sure he'd never forget. Lucifer had already made himself at home, helped himself with an ashtray, the cigar's smoke making John gulp. "I'm doing… what, John?" he idly spoke, bringing it to his lips.

"You are messing with my mind…" he gritted his teeth. "This has to stop."

The man chuckled. "Oh, stop whining, John. Men have managed to defy my challenges before, mortals were named saints for that… Well, at least that's what the Vatican claims. You and I know better…" he sneered.

"You have no right…" the man continued firmly, trying to ignore the Devil's words, his presence, the smoke.

"Oh, come on, John. It's not a crime I'm committing. Let's just call it… ah, marketing!" he declared emphatically. "Yes, that's what I do. I'm advertising. What's wrong with that? Not to mention that I am sharpening your senses, you can see the pleasure all those things can offer you, whatever you choose as your favorite sin, you will certainly enjoy it!" he smirked.

"You cannot do that. I deserve the same chance everyone has to go to…"

"Heaven?" Lucifer interrupted him, standing up. "Can you feel how difficult that is? I bet you feel the unbearable weight of the Ten Commandments on you, the weight of both the stone plaques. They're pushing you to the ground, you shouldn't fight gravity, John, it's gonna bring you down to my kingdom… Why fight it? Can you fight them all? Greed and pride and anger and …lust?" the voice inquired, sounding dreamy and distant. "Tell me; what do you feel right now, John, anger or lust?" a whisper brushed his ear. John cringed and backed off; he hadn't even seen him coming so close, too close.

"Why do you fear me, John?" Lucifer sounded disappointed. "I just want to take you with me. Is this so bad? You don't belong in Heaven. No, you were meant for the fire, my fire."

But John kept standing there, leaned on the wall. An awkward silence followed, he couldn't reply, not to such words. Lucifer himself didn't seem to enjoy his little visit after all. He scratched his chin; the man could see that this hadn't really turned out the way Lucifer wanted it. And then, finally, the unexpected visitor looked at his watch.

"Well, unfortunately, I cannot stay longer. I have a whole business to run after all…" he said with a vicious smirk. "I suppose I will see you later, John. I'm beginning to like our little conversations."

The Devil reached for the little cigar box in his pocket and their eyes met. John gave an exasperated sigh, but his eyes were, for once, warning the ancient demon. "Oh, all right…" Lucifer rolled his eyes, pushing the little box inside his pocket again. "I wouldn't want you to think that I'm trying to tempt you…"

John almost seemed relieved. He had passed that test too, one of the countless that would follow, as he suspected. And as much as he was happy to see Lucifer approach the exit door, he knew that he'd return soon. Prays wouldn't help much in keeping him out.

The Devil left, and John didn't bother to follow him, being too concerned about those words still; how would he manage to get rid of those thoughts in his head? He sighed deeply, and then he figured the reason Lucifer's presence was still so intense in the all but empty room. The cigar was slowly burning on the ashtray, spreading the deep aroma inside the apartment, intruding his lungs. John narrowed his eyes, feeling tempted to grab the cigar, run after him and shove it...

Tell me, John, what do you feel right now, anger or lust?

"Both," he softly replied to himself in the empty room. And he headed to his bedroom door, leaving the cigar burning on the table.

Good night, John. Sweet dreams...