(This prologue has gone through a lot of edits because I never quite liked how it was. This current version is as good as it'll ever be, I think. So there you go. Enjoy. And if you do not understand whaddahell's going on, it's alright, since it's really just a prologue, a sub-chapter, it's just to get your attention and make you excited to read the next chapter which will be coming in around … a few days or so.)
Crown of the Apocalypse Trilogy – Crossover
"… upon his brow is set a crown of fire, and his right hand, doom."
"Are you sure you want to do this," said a voice. There was no hint of question in the sentence. He knew nothing he said would change the decision.
"Yes."
The last thing he saw was the thrusting of a burning, splintering rod into the ground and the next moment, blinding unbearable pain blackened vision into oblivion.
A great stone pillar stood at a complete standstill, deeply embedded into the red dirt. The soils of Hell. Upon closer inspection, the obelisk seemed to be made of some kind of stone and mortar but looked too natural to have been sculpted, like it was carved from a millennia of wind and rain, which could mean only one thing down here. Old magic. Better not tamper with that. I came here to do my job, now if only I knew what that was. But before he could continue his train of thought, a distant sound like thunder echoed through the cavernous emptiness. He turned around to see, and saw a big, hulking shadowy figure making its way towards him. About to reach for the vacuole of holy water in his pocket which would bring him back, his entire body suddenly went rigid, frozen. He was paralyzed. Oh Hell, this can't be good. Struggling with all the might he could muster, he frantically forced himself to move but to no avail, he was as good as dead as soon as that whatever-it-was reached him. So this is how it ends, a lifetime of trying to avoid dying here, and now I've damned myself to … The figure had finally come into the light and what he saw before him was more terrible than he could have ever imagined.
With the body of a muscled out Man, that was where the similarities ended between him and Mankind. His skin was the color of blood red and a long, swishing tail sticking out from his back, both distinguishing traits of demons but what was really prominent about him was his right arm. Immensely huger than his left arm, with only three fingers and one colossal thumb, it looked like it was sculpted from … from the exact same substance as that of the pillar. There were two round stumps on his forehead, but they looked like they were … were they growing? He had no time to think or ponder on this for the demon had finally swiveled his head around and as his gaze fell, it was the same pain all over again. Not this again! Anything but this! Mouth wide open in suffering, screaming in complete silence. No … no … !
He felt his body jerk forward and a familiar, hoarse voice spoke into his ear, "What did you see?" Still twitching from the pains, John Constantine made an incredible effort to force himself to speak, but the voice cut across what he was about to say with a bite of impatience, "Well, man? Tell me, what did you see!"
His voice came out sounding as weak as he felt right now. "Anung Un Rama," As he did so, he turned his face upwards to see the reaction on Papa Midnite's face; complete shock. Midnite opened his mouth and closed it, at a clear loss at what to say. Constantine thought he knew what was the question in mind, so he answered it.
"Yes. Hellboy."