WORD OF THE DHARKESIDE

Yet another tremendous thank you to Xelena, Jim, Requinn1, Silverbloodrain and lostchild277. Cheers for the wonderful reviews! Also, the demon in this chapter doesn't come from any sources. To the best of my knowledge, I created him/her/it with reference to African myths. Oh wait, that is a source…

Chapter Five

"This better not be a scam!" Constantine threatened.

"Don't worry," Ellie teased. "There are more entertaining ways to trick you."

"Yippee," he scoffed.

Yippee indeed. He always enjoyed travelling through the twilight, especially when it brought back unpleasant memories and ancient regrets. Hmm. Perhaps not.

There were never any exceptions. And it was so very black tonight. Even his True Sight made the darkness feel sorrowful and bewildering. For safety precautions, he kept the Holy Shotgun trained on inauspicious shadows. Ironically enough, the weapon's torchlight created these spindly silhouettes and those perplexing profiles. God! How he needed the sun.

"What's the time anyway?" he demanded.

"The little hand's just left the three," she taunted.

"In English, please," he ordered.

"Oh John," she goaded. "I was just pleasing your puerile intelligence."

"Not helping, Ellie," he growled.

She giggled insolently.

Something felt wrong. Ellie felt wrong. That laugh. Those words. She always played with his patience, but today her flippant remarks seemed forced and fake. Ellie felt very wrong. Why? Oh, why had he abandoned the apartment? Especially during the early morning hours. Los Angeles's soulless midnight streets were no place for the great John Constantine, nor his exorcisms. Yet he'd reluctantly agreed, just to satisfy his occasional partner. They used each other, neither truthfully knowing why.

As though providing clues, the Shotgun's light occasionally illuminated the neighbouring surroundings. Sometimes he would glimpse Ellie's blackened silhouette, dancing across green grass and archaic architecture. For the past hour, he'd followed her through battered parks and forgotten graveyards. He hadn't seen the possessed child. Yet. The journey was taking an eternity.

"How much further?" he complained.

"Oh, John," she mocked. "Do you really dislike my company?"

"Do I really have to answer that one?" he grumbled.

"Always the gentleman," she snickered. "In ten more yards you'll get your girl."

"Ten more yards?" he scoffed. "Even without my Sight, I can see there are no houses littering this shithole!"

"Who said anything about houses?" she sniggered. "I left her beside a bridge. With the proper restraints, of course. Thought she might like the scenery. Her mother doesn't even know she's possessed. She thinks I've escorted her darling daughter to a friend's slumber party for the night."

"Bridge?" he snapped. "Bridge? You left a possessed little girl by herself? In the middle of nowhere? Jesus! This must be a trap."

"John, John, John," she mocked. "Relax. It's just a simple exorcism."

"Since when has an exorcism been simple?" he scowled.

He was the antonym of simple. Whether he walked further into the light, or strayed deeper into the darkness, his journeys were always laden with death and destruction. Tonight he'd chosen yet another dangerous path.

In sudden agreement, warning splashes assaulted the placid silence. A nearby stream spluttered and spat turbulently, voicing its contemptuous complaints. He assumed its waters flooded the bridge's gritty foundations, whilst spontaneously striking stray human bodies. More disconcerting sounds confirmed and refuted his presumptions.

A characteristic snarl simultaneously chilled and boiled his blood. The growling echoed repeatedly, as though attacking the bridge's stone walls. With each step he took, the warning roars grew louder and more barbarous.

"We're expected," he grunted. "Lovely greeting too."

"See?" she bragged. "Demons are politer than humans."

"That's not saying much," he snorted.

Demons. Angels. Humans. They were so very alike. Sometimes he couldn't differentiate between their crimes and his own. Before the lung cancer, he'd committed so many mortal sins. Yet the old self sacrifice ploy had wiped the slate clean; unsurprising considering the great deities were gullible suckers. Did God know about his ulterior motives? And did Lucifer really think he'd get his soul? Again? What utter fools! Constantine would continue performing virtuous acts, just to exasperate Heaven and Hell. Fifty years of good deeds… How hard could it be? And for fun, he'd throw in tonight's free exorcism.

But something still felt wrong. And he loathed this unnecessary feeling. For decades he'd exorcised countless human beings. Possessed children were always easier than possessed adults. So why should this girl be any different? Just another dreary job.

Constantine's professionalism slowly struck back. Lengthening his strides, he quickly matched Ellie's challenging pace. For several minutes they strolled side by side, never saying a single, sensual word. Maybe later in bed. God! He wanted her now. Why did business always come before pleasure?

"False hope," he concluded. "Or poetic licence."

"John's mentioning poetry!" she mocked. "Am I dreaming?"

"Yeah," he jeered. "You're having a nightmare."

"Mmm, no!" she giggled. "When you see the possessed kid, you'll be the one having the nightmares."

His jaw tightened. "What am I dealing with?"

"Superhuman strength. Some telepathic ability," she started. "Brown hair. Blue eyes. About five foot nine. Petite frame..."

"Not you!" he barked. "The little girl! What kind of demon has possessed her?"

"Easily irritated, are we John?" she purred. "Definitely not a Soldier Demon, or one of your typical Hell spawns."

"Well, that's some good news," he mused.

See? No Lucifer. No Scavenger Soldiers. And no room for potential mistakes. An easy exorcism.

Feeling more confident, he took the lead. His rapid strides clashing with Ellie's leisurely steps. Thanks to his True Sight, he no longer required her leadership. He could see the bridge looming before him, like a giant's submerged skull. Water gushed through the twin arches, reminiscent of blood guttering from punctured eye sockets. The puckered stone resembled decomposing bone, but it was only natural after all. More sinister, manmade destruction had befallen the cranium. It looked painfully flat, as though trampled. Godly feet had once walked here.

Metallic maggots feasted on the flattened flesh. Once satisfied they scurried away, engines rumbling and tyres squealing. As thanks for their meals, they left behind carbon monoxide and spilt petroleum. New smells to clog dying nostrils and living lungs. The only other sounds and smells issued from underneath the bridge, where the low growls and sulfuric stenches persisted. What an awful prison. Good.

"How long has she been here?" he demanded.

"Since last night," she chuckled.

"Last night?" he exploded. "Why didn't you contact me sooner?"

"I was busy," she teased. "My hair needed washing."

"Hah!" he scoffed. "So you spent the entire night, washing your hair? Why am I not buying this?"

"Oh, John," she mocked. "Of course it didn't take all night! My hairdryer broke. Do you really expect me to walk around with wet hair? I could have caught a cold!"

"But your friend's daughter," he growled. "Wasn't it risky leaving her in this shithole?

"Mmm, no!" she laughed. "No one ever walks near the Oceanus!"

"Oceanus?" he repeated.

"The name of this lovely little river," she explained. "It's pretty famous. I'm surprised you haven't heard about its reputation. Last year alone, over four hundred people threw themselves from the bridge. Because the water's so shallow, they plummeted to their deaths. It has the highest suicide rate in L.A. The living never wander here."

"Mighty cheerful place," he remarked.

Especially for an exorcism. Using this newfound knowledge, he studied the bridge's menacing visage. Something dark drifted through the damaged eye socket, like a slashed pupil dribbling black blood.

As he drew nearer, the vague blur came into focus. He watched the girl's shadowy silhouette, thrusting and thrashing. To little effect. Her arms and legs were tied against four, unyielding pillars. She communicated her indignant frustration through low, frenzied snarls. He ignored them.

Now and again, she kicked the ground angrily. Also to little effect. The water splashed vehemently, uttering its own resentful cries. Despite these violent protests, the shallow stream only splattered her knees. A shredded, mutilated nightgown wavered nearby, simmering like a broken angel in dark desolation. Even if this garment had hidden her features, he would have still recognised the demon within.

"Jesus!" he swore. "That's a Pardus Demon!"

"Oh, is it?" she goaded. "I had absolutely no idea."

"You're a bad liar, you know that?" he snarled. "You know I've never exorcised a Pardus Demon before. Christ! What's it doing here? I thought these guys were strictly African. Zaire to be precise. Maybe even Sudan."

"So?" she taunted. "Perhaps it's on holiday?"

"Not helping, Ellie!" he snapped. "I'm not doing this exorcism. I don't have the right knowledge. Midnite. He knows. He's lived in Africa. But me? I really shouldn't be doing this."

"Should but will," she persisted. "Besides how hard could it be? Possessed kids are always easy to exorcise."

He snorted. "You've never even performed an exorcism and now suddenly you're all knowing? Please! Don't insult my intelligence, Ellie."

Idiot or mastermind, he couldn't save the girl. It was far too late. He knew this even without his True Sight; the Pardus Demon had grotesquely deformed her external appearance. This was always fatal. She'd been consumed from the inside out, just like a terminal illness.

The girl's visage looked particularly alarming. Her ears had swollen into two bulbous blobs, as though the flesh and bone had been brutally pulverised. Similar violence had befallen her nose and mouth. The nasal cavities had been smashed beyond repair, and the jaws forcefully stretched outwards. Constantine suddenly felt hot, unbearable anger.

"Why do these pricks always get inside small children?" he growled.

"How very compassionate, John!" Ellie teased. "I didn't realise you were a family man. Maybe you could marry your cop friend and start a family? I can picture it now! You'll be at home cooking, cleaning and looking after the baby, whilst she's out fighting crime and committing adultery!"

"You're very welcome to baby sit," he grumbled. "You've already done such a splendid job looking after this child! Tying her up in the water. Christ! You had to make this more uncomfortable, didn't you?"

"Oh, John," she mocked. "Your affection for kids really touches me."

"Actually I was talking about my comfort," he stated. "These shoes will never dry out! I threw away the two hundred dollar ones because of that goddamn hydrotherapy pool."

"What a shame!" she giggled. "How long does it take to dry out your thick skull? Or do you just lose more brain cells?"

He grunted sharply, effectively communicating his indignation. For good measure, he glanced over his shoulder, glowering disapprovingly. She just smiled smugly, further infuriating him. But something still felt wrong. Ellie felt wrong. Her snide remarks were too forced. She never blatantly insulted his intelligence, unless she wanted to provoke a reaction. But why?

Quickly supplying an answer, the possessed girl snarled furiously. Growing more attentive, he resumed his examination. She fought aggressively against her bonds, sensing his close proximity and knowing his intentions.

"You should have stayed in Hell," he declared. "Now I'm going to deport your sorry ass."

The Pardus Demon immediately acknowledged his words. A furious growl issued from the wide, malformed lips, but large, crooked fangs stifled the cry's impact. She communicated further hatred through sickly, amber eyes. These yellowed pupils protruded from the bristled black hair, which feasted on her fleshy features like frenzied flies.

Oily quills grotesquely covered her body. The Pardus Demon had even deformed her hands and feet. They ended in enormous, sharp talons. Flashing like iced ivory. Despite this barbaric invasion, her physique still remained pathetically human. Pathetically childlike. Pathetically fragile.

"How old is the girl?" he demanded.

"In the one digit stage," Ellie teased. "Nine."

"Nine?" he barked. "Christ! There's no way she'll survive this exorcism. If only she'd been older. Sixteen, maybe. But nine? She's just not physically or mentally strong enough. There's no way I can save this girl!"

"Why, John," she mocked. "I didn't think you were so negative."

"I'm being realistic," he snarled. "But one way or the other, I'll deport this demon scum. Even if it means killing what's left of the girl."

"That's a shame," she snickered. "One less Christmas card this year then."

"Too bad," he scoffed. "Never mind, eh? I bet a popular girl like you gets thousands."

"Mmm, no!" she giggled. "More like ten. Still that's ten more than you!"

Before he could exchange another insult with Ellie, the possessed girl voiced her own objections. She roared murderously, making his eardrums ring in absolute agony. He hated being so very close.

He stopped walking, deliberately distancing himself from the Pardus Demon. Ellie reached his side and stood beside him. He regarded the possessed girl momentarily, aware that it was time for the exorcism.

"This'll be fun," he mused. "Are you ready?"

"Of course!" she laughed. "I'm always ready for you, John."

"Good!" he snapped. "You stay here. You're strictly backup in case things get messy."

Constantine spat out his nicotine gum. The mashed pulp hurtled through the air, twisting and twirling like a maimed acrobat. It landed somewhere in the long grass, before disappearing completely from view. He wanted another piece, but there were none left. Damn! He'd been too hasty.

He ignored these sudden cravings and walked towards the possessed girl. She fought against her restraints, growing more and more violent. For safety precautions, he kept the Holy Shotgun pointed in her direction. The firearm felt heavy in his hands, even with his shoulder's support. The cold metal chilled his palms, sending bitter shivers racing through his flesh. The frosty night had chased away the warm day.

Bracing himself for more, he stepped into the shallow stream. The icy liquid drenched his shoes and numbed his feet. His teeth started rattling, so he clenched his jaws stiffly together. Ignoring the coldness, he strolled through the scurrying water. Miniature waves dashed and danced around his feet. Lovely!

"Nothing like a lovely exorcism to get the summer season kicking," he murmured.

The words strangely angered him, and he shone the Shotgun light directly into the girl's eyes. She shrieked furiously, her arms and legs flailing more recklessly. He found the demon's suffering oddly therapeutic.

A large, circular object obscured the luminescent glow. Feeling cautious, he watched this unexpected manifestation plummet downwards, like a single, metallic raindrop. It struck the stream with a heavy plop, before sinking to the bottom. He studied the rippling water, immediately recognising the fallen entity. A silver, ornate coin.

"Balthazar!" he grimaced.

"Having a lovely exorcism, Johnny Boy?" sneered the familiar voice.

Constantine searched for the accursed pest. He strained his neck upwards, studying the bridge's highest pinnacle. A solitary black silhouette stood staring down. He recognised the slicked back hair and the crisp, business suit. A shadowy hand touched the stone wall, the knuckles supporting another antique coin, which glinted wickedly in a sanguine light. He didn't see any facial features, just two gleaming, red pupils.

"Coward!" Constantine spat. "Come down here and fight me like a man!"

"I will fight you," Balthazar jeered. "I will fight you like a demon."

The half breed lifted his free hand, the nails nearly touching his face. With furious, violent movements, his outspread fingers formed a vehement fist. Simultaneously several cracks issued underneath the bridge, where the Pardus Demon lay in wait. Balthazar had broken the restraints.

"You cowardly bastard!" Constantine swore.

Balthazar cackled manically.

Before he could retort angrily, the possessed girl launched her first attack. She lunged towards him, flailing her arms and legs madly. He quickly dodged sideways, but wasn't fast enough. Her thrashing arms struck the Holy Shotgun, and his fingers accidentally brushed the trigger.

With a tremendous roar, the gun rebounded in his hands. He couldn't position the weapon sufficiently, so the bullet struck the bridge's ancient wall instead. Just inches away from Balthazar's hand. Broken stone and desiccated cement erupted from high above, sprinkling Constantine in a rocky paste.

"Are you trying to hit me?" sniggered the half breed. "You need more practice, Johnny Boy!"

"How about I practice on you?" Constantine retorted.

He pointed the Holy Shotgun at Balthazar. He nearly pulled the trigger, but the Pardus Demon promptly knocked the weapon from his hands. It struck the stream with a mighty splash, and then speedily sunk to the bottom.

Constantine knelt in the water, searching desperately for his fallen gun. Before he could locate the firearm, the possessed girl attacked him from behind. She pounced onto his shoulders, making him stumble in the stream. Almost falling, he grasped the bridge wall for support. The scratchy stone scraped the skin from his struggling palms.

"You have absolutely no idea how much I am enjoying this," Balthazar crowed. "Splendid good show!"

"Why don't you come down from there?" Constantine snarled. "And join in the fu-"

The possessed girl suddenly interrupted him. She wrapped an arm around his neck, making him cough painfully. With supernatural strength, she jerked his head backwards. His gaze landed on Balthazar's shadowy silhouette. Crimson pupils burnt through blackness. He would see more.

Her free hand found his collarbone. The sharp claws punctured his formal suit and shirt, slicing open the flesh underneath. He shouted angrily, agony cracking his voice. But his yells only made matters worse.

He felt her hot breath burning his neck, making the hairs instinctively stiffen. She suddenly plunged her sharp fangs into his nape. He roared in furious torture. A fiery migraine exploded between his eyes, black specks and grey scrawls marring his vision. This was turning into a right mess. He needed…

"Ellieeeeee!" he choked. "A little help here please!"

No response.

"Ellieeeeee?" he wheezed. "Fine! I'll do this by myself."

He flung himself backwards, the girl caught beneath him. Her teeth wrenched deeper into his neck, and he felt the blood guttering down his back. He ignored the excruciating pain; his plan would work soon.

He struck the ground, purposely crushing her diminutive frame. The stream crashed thunderously, engulfing his body and soaking his clothes. His head protruded from the shallow water, giving him an advantage over the submerged Pardus Demon. Almost immediately, she removed her excruciating grip and he experienced instant relief.

Constantine quickly scrambled to his feet, water and blood dripping from his sodden garments. He stood beside the trampled girl, who was slowly falling into unconsciousness. Of course. The demon had possessed a weak child. So it too was weak.

"You got lucky there," Balthazar hissed.

"Maybe you can break my winning streak!" Constantine challenged.

He searched the bridge, ready to hurl more insults. But the ghastly apparition hovering there, made him forget these offensive words. A recognisable silhouette stood beside Balthazar. They both had blood red pupils.

"Ellie?" Constantine gasped. "You've betrayed me. With Balthazar."

"Ellie can't help you now!" Balthazar sneered.

Ellie spoke. At first Constantine thought she was addressing him, until he recognised the Latin words. He knew these words well. And they filled him with absolute terror. He had to leave the water. Otherwise…

"NO!" he hollered. "Don't do this to me!"

Constantine charged through the stream, racing towards dry land. His shoes splashed loudly, accompanying Ellie's ominous chanting.

"Leaving so soon?" Balthazar sniggered. "But I thought things were just getting started, Johnny Boy."

ESTIMATED UPDATE: FRIDAY 30TH SEPTEMBER