Carmen stared out the bus window, vaguely reading the neon signs that rushed past in a blur of color.
She watched as her own reflection flashed periodically at darkened intervals, her hair in a messy ponytail, green eyes luminous, accented by the heavy eyeliner around them.
She must look a state, she thought bitterly, gingerly trying to tuck a few strands of her raven hair behind her ear.
The sky outside was a deep purple and skeleton trees reached out their limbs to the cold december heavens.
Fiona Apple screamed in her ear from her headphones, a burst of melancholy andcliché.
She popped another pink bubble of gum from between her lips.
Somewhere on the bus an old man with white cataract eyes was murmuring broken phrases to himself, a faded sign around his neck, THE END IS NIGH, it read simply, adding salt to the wound of the obvious.
She felt tired and drowsy from the entire day of sitting through Mrs. Melnicks divine theology class, and all that seemed right and good to her in the world was the promising warmth of her bed and the idea of disappearing under heavy blankets.
The bus pulled next to a stop and people came and went, she was aware of a man in a heavy black trench coat take the seat beside her, despite the numerous other empty ones available.
Well, actually there seemed to be no people in the bus besides...
She scooted over closer to the window and held her bag to her chest. She was overwhelmed by the smell of cigarettes and oldspice and noticed the mans large hand gripping the back of the seat before him, calloused and bandaged in some places.
She tapped her foot impatiently as the bus finally got on its way again, rattling beneath her feet. She peeked behind her shoulder at the oddly empty bus and caught the old man with the sign staring right at her with his...eyes?
Could he see? She thought, looking away quickly.
Suddenly the song on her player stopped and she cursed, pulling it out of her jacket. The numbers were going haywire and then it went blank.
"What the-" She said aloud, making the man beside her glance warily at her. He looked down at her player then shifted in his seat, jamming his fingers in the belt of his pants.
"Oh ew!" she panicked, reaching desperately into her bag for her can of mase.
She watched as he pulled out a long clear vial out of his pants.
"Holy water?" she thought, perplexed.
She watched him shake it up abit and uncork the gourd with a pop, stopping the liquid from spilling with his thumb.
"Great, im surrounded by religious psychos." she murmured bitterly. She tried standing up but yelped in pain as she felt a rough hand grab her wrist and yank her back down on her seat.
She started to scream when suddenly the bus lurched forward in a burst of speed and she gripped the edge of her seat, her bag falling to the floor.
"Weve got two minutes." She heard the man say cooly, his eyes fixed on the old guy behind them. She looked back and watched the old geezer rise slowly, and started to make his way towards them with not so much as a stumble as the bus rocked to and fro.
The man in the trench turned to look at her and gave her a small wink as he took a cigarette out of his pocket and brought it to his lips, lighting it expertly in one motion.
Then he stood up, blocking her from the old man with his frame, almost posessively.
" Amanos. your looking swell."
The old man tilted his head to the side and gazed at the man in the trench with his milk-white eyes.
"Constantine." The old man hissed, stopping a few feet before them, Carmen held onto the back of a seat, her legs shaking.
"Nice gettup. What are you doing commuting?"
Amanos flicked out his tongue angrily.
"Step away we dont want you."
Constantine nodded in understanding and gestured to Carmen with his thumb.
"You know, the law states that you have to have parental consent to take an underaged girl for a drive this late at night."
Carmen furrowed her brow.
"Whats going on?" She cried in exasperation.
The old man turned his horrid gaze at her and spread his lips, an attempt at a sneer showing off bad teeth, stubs in his gums.
"Oh my beautiful one," he rasped," The ones of light will be so pleased...so very pleased with you."
Constantine rolled his eyes.
"Remember Amanos, its not only a felony, its a sin. You sick fuck."
And with that he threw the contents of the vial in the old mans face. The old mans skin erupted in boils and hissed as if he was thrown acid instead of water. He clawed at his visage, falling down screaming.
Constantine steadied himself and jabbed his foot in the mans throat.
"Who sent you Amanos." he growled.
Amanos screamed louder.
"WHO?" Constantine pressed on.
"...each had six wings, with two he covered his face, and with two he covered his feet, and with two...he flew."
Constantine blinked, he couldnt believe his ears. He pulled out his gun from his back pocket and shot the old man. In a rise of hellfire the old man disintegrated into dust.
The bus stopped abruptly, tires screaching and burning marks into the street, there were honks and screaming, the sound of sirens filled the air.
Carmen stood up shakily and stared at the back of the man in front of her.
"Is it over." She whispered in a daze.
Constantine shook his head.
"Far from it." he replied bitterly.
Somewhere in the street outside a man pulled up the hood of his jacket and smiled at the image of Carmen in the bus window.
"Holy, holy, holy is the lord god Almighty," the man said softly to himself, "Who was and is and is to come."
And with a small chuckle he walked back into the shadows, humming disembodied words into the night.