One of the characters I've been waiting to write about. John Constantine. I absolutely adore him despite his assholeness and ability to piss people off. I always wanted to see Raven and John Constantine meet and bicker and hopefully, I'll get to see it more in future chapters.

I don't own any of the DC characters.

Please leave a vote and a review as to what you think of the story so far and what you'd like to see in future chapters. I'd greatly appreciate it.


Ravenscar Asylum

It's been seventeen years since John Constantine admitted himself to the Ravenscar Psychiatric Facility for the Mentally Deranged. Restless nights left John staring at the ceiling for hours on end until his eyes burned, imagining ghostly hands coming through it to strangle him. He hasn't shaved in months, having a slightly long blonde beard. His arms are lined with scars. Not just from all the demons and monsters that attacked him, but from the knives he used to cut himself in ritualistic acts. Nurses are only allowed to give him spoons instead of forks and knives. They removed his sheets so he doesn't hang himself. Now, Constantine sleeps in the cold. Doctors also have him under strict watch to make sure he doesn't wander off to hurt himself. Of course, he only tried to commit suicide once. The scars on his wrists were attempts. The rest were rituals he once performed before it happened.

Constantine goes to therapy with his psychiatrist every weekend. Though most of their sessions are just him asking Dr. Martin to raise the dosage of his sleeping pills and anti-hallucination drugs, something she continuously refuses to give him each time. Instead, she wants him to talk about his progress in the facility. Ten years ago, he barely spoke a word since he was institutionalized. Six years later, he plays poker with the other patients. Now, the nurses can't seem to get him to shut up. But he refuses to talk about his breakdown. As always, she'd start asking how his day went. Same as always. Sitting in a cell. Eating. Watching television. Taking medication. And being let out for fresh air every now and then. She'd ask if he's taking his medication. If he keeps "seeing things."

Honestly, I would need an entire bottle of pills just to stop "seeing things". But then I would suffer an overdose and my soul would go straight to hell. He's not ready for that kind of shit yet.

Just like every weekend, Constantine is led to Dr. Linda Martin's office where he sits down on the brown leather sofa. Dr. Martin, a woman with short blonde hair and round black-framed glasses, sits behind her desk with her hands clasped over the smooth wooden surface. She smiles in a kind but professional manner, just as she always does with her patients. Constantine doesn't know whether she actually cares for her patients or is just here for the pounds.

"Good afternoon, John," she says.

"Dr. Martin," he says without even saying "hello" or "good afternoon". It's not really a good afternoon. It's pouring like a storm outside.

"How are you today?" she asks.

The same questions every day. Sounds like a broken record, he thinks to himself bitterly.

"Restless. Tired. Have not slept one bit."

"Well, John, I'm starting to worry," she says, "This is the third session where you've expressed restlessness. I assume you're developing insomnia."

"I slept easier after a few pints," he says, his knee bouncing impatiently. He used to sneak scotch from the kitchen while the security guards were on duty at the other side of the ward. When he got caught, the bottles he stole were confiscated. He hasn't had a drink in weeks and it's driving him mad.

Dr. Martin sighs and adjusts her glasses. "Patients are not allowed to drink. You know the rules. Some patients here are alcoholics trying to quit."

"Then you know what I need. Raising the dosage of my sleeping pills, doctor."

"John, raising the dosage of your sleeping pills can end up putting you in a coma or killing you. The asylum is only allowed to give you medication depending on your body's capacity. Unless you want to overdose."

Constantine shakes his head. "I only did that once."

"What about the recent scars on your hands and arms?"

"They're unrelated."

"But they are related to the previous wound you had when the police found you at the Logue resident," she says.

Constantine sighs. She didn't have to bring that up.

"As I said, unrelated."

"But it is related to why you're here," she said. John remained silent. "Let's make a deal. You talk to me about Newcastle and I'll make sure Thomas changes a small percentage of the dosage. That way you'll sleep easier tonight. All right?"

"…Fine."

She takes out her notepad and a blue ballpoint pen. "Tell me about the girl from Newcastle. Astra Logue."

Constantine doesn't like to think about it. Just the thought of Newcastle is enough to make him sick. Every time he closes his eyes, all he can hear are her screams and the screams of those who suffered in the crossfire.

"According to you, you were involved in a failed exorcism," Dr. Martin says. "But the police suspected you were involved in her death."

He nods. "Her death was on me. I can agree with that. That's why I tried to get myself arrested. I even punched a bloody cop."

"Yet, someone vouched for you. Two people exactly. Zatanna Zatara and Harumi Nozaki. Is that correct?"

"They shouldn't have done that. They should have left me to rot."

"Is that why you don't allow them to see you?"

"Even if I did, who wants to visit a pathetic bastard like me?" he says. Especially after what I did.

Dr. Martin starts writing down on her notepad. "Let's talk about what happened in your head. According to you, you were performing an exorcism on Astra Logue after her father had her possessed by a demon. You apparently summoned another demon to help. But that demon dragged her soul to hell."

"It also damned me and others as well."

"And that damnation is guilt, John," she says. "You went to save Astra from her abusive father but he ended up killing her and then you killed him as a response. The demon you refer to is you unleashed. You created the demon in your head to make sense of the situation.

"Now, why would I do that?" Constantine asks.

"Because you don't want to accept that you killed Alex Logue as retribution for Astra's death."

That would make sense for someone who is actually insane. Only, Constantine knows what he saw. He saw the demon drag Astra to hell. So did the others. He smelled the demon's sulfur. He felt the hellfire's heat. Yet, he wants to believe the doctor's words. He wants to convince himself that it was all in his head.

"You know what the worst part of it is, doctor? That Alex Logue wasn't just some bastard who killed his own child. He was a friend. We were a small team. A family."

"And I'm sure that devastated you very much. That's why you're having these delusions. That's why you push people away."

"And it's why I haven't been able to sleep properly at night…"

Dr. Martin remains silent for a moment. "I'll tell Thomas to double your dosage to two more milligrams but that is all."

He sighs in relief. "Thank you."


April 13, 1963

"So, this is the famous Newcastle, eh?" John asked as he, Chas and Ritchie got out of the van to meet a demonologist named Alexander Logue. It was the first time they would meet him in person after speaking over the telephone over the past five months. They were planning on having their own paranormal team. Chas even joked about forming a band as a side job called the Hellblazers but Ritchie couldn't play an instrument to save his life. Zatanna and Harumi stayed in the hotel because they were tired from the long drive. "Quite nice," he said. "Do you think this bloke of Alex Logue is going to show up?"

"Well, he said to meet us at the Cocoa Nutter Café at 27 Grainger Street, I think," Chas said. "I hope he gave us the right address."

Ritchie whined and yawned tiredly. "Why couldn't I stay at the hotel with the girls?"

"It was your idea to meet with this guy in the first place, Ritchie," John said. "We need to make sure this man is legit. Otherwise, we'd be wasting our time for nothing."

They went to the Cocoa Nutter Café where it bustled with clients. Waiters went in and out of the kitchen with trays of food. It took a while for Constantine and the others to find a table to sit at. Constantine looked around for any signs of Alex Logue but couldn't see anyone who looked like him. He was a man of dark skin with a padlock and wore a leather jacket. At least that was what he looked like in the photo.

"It's already ten minutes past 9," Constantine said. "Where the hell is he?"

"It's only 9:10," Ritchie said.

"Sorry, but I'm the old 'Be on time or fuck off' kind of person," Constantine said as he took a sip of his vanilla latte. He didn't like having his time wasted.

"Maybe he's stuck in traffic," Chas said, still trying to stay positive.

"Or maybe he took us for loons and decided not to show up," Constantine said.

"Always optimistic, aren't you, Johnny?" Ritchie asked rhetorically.

Constantine chuckled. "I'm realistic, friend."

A minute later, a man entered Cocoa Nutter, panting in exhaustion as if he ran a marathon. At first, Constantine thought it was another customer. Of course, when Constantine squinted his eyes, he realized it was Alexander Logue. Only older and chubbier. The photograph was taken in his early days. Behind him was a little girl dressed in a floral dress. She had the same skin colour as Alex Logue but her hair was brown and frizzy with a flower on her head. John frowned. Who the fuck is she and why is she here?

John Constantine met Logue in 1963. And since it was 1963, some restaurants wouldn't allow people of his colour back then. This one included.

The waiter approached Alex Logue and tried to shoo him away.

"Pardon me, sir. You can't be in here, you'll disturb the customers," the waiter said.

"Is that him?" Chas asked.

"Looks like it," Ritchie said.

"It seems the poor sod needs our help," Constantine said as he got up from his seat and went to handle the situation. He would have liked for Alex Logue to leave, mainly because he brought a kid with him. But he doesn't like seeing people being disrespected just for how they appear.

"I'm just here to meet a few friends," Alex said.

The waiter scoffed. "You have no friends waiting here. So, unless you're ordering to go, you need to leave ―"

"Excuse me," Constantine approached them. "Is there a problem?"

The waiter apologized. "Sorry, sir. I hope this man didn't make you uncomfortable."

"Well, you see, I am uncomfortable with this man but not for the reason you're thinking. You see, my colleagues and I have been waiting for this man to appear at 9. The bloke is ten minutes late and to top it all, he brought a bloody kid to the meeting. Honestly, who does that? But I'm not complaining. Not at all. Yet you're bothered by him for just walking in. So, unless you have a real reason to toss him and his child out, I suggest you bugger off, mate."

The waiter remained silent after that and went back to the kitchen.

Constantine sighed. "Honestly."

Alex Logue bowed his head. "Thank you. And I'm terribly sorry for being late."

"You should probably apologize for not telling us you were bringing a kid with you," Constantine said. The girl frowned at his attitude.

"This is my daughter, Astra," Alex said.

"All right, I get that, mate. But why is she here? This is not a meeting meant for a child to hear."

"Sorry. I couldn't find a babysitter."

Constantine didn't feel comfortable discussing the supernatural in front of children or the weak-minded. Though, in truth, he simply didn't like kids. He found them noisy and smelly.

"Please," Alex said, "She's good. I promise she won't bother you. Besides, she's just as interested in the strange and the unusual as I am."

Constantine sighed. It was too early to argue about this. "All right, fine."

They sat at the table. Astra sat down between her father and John Constantine. Alex gave her a notebook and a pen to draw on while they talked.

Constantine introduced him to the others. "Alex, these are my colleagues, Ritchie and Chas. The girls, Zatanna and Harumi are at a hotel resting so you'll meet them later after they get over their jet lag thing."

"I am honoured to be here, thank you," Alex said.

"Let me give you a brief rundown of our duties," Constantine said. "Ritchie here studies quantum magic. Zee and I practice magic. Harumi is our spiritualist. She's into Shinto and Buddhism. And Chas is our driver."

Chas chuckled. "Someone had to stop John from driving us into a lamppost."

Constantine rolled his eyes. "Everyone's a critic."

"Admit it, John. You suck at driving. You failed your driving exam 9 times."

"6 times. Bugger off."

"So, is it true, Alex?" Chas asked the newcomer. "Are you a demonologist?"

"Yes, I am," Alex said, "At first, it was a hobby. I became interested in the field after hearing the story of Faust."

"Faust," Constantine said, "A classic one. He made a deal with Mephistopheles and when the time came for payment, the demon snatched Faust from his room through his rooftop. I learned that while studying the history of Prague."

"Yes, I decided to study it afterwards. It's mostly my side job though. Being a demonologist doesn't exactly pay so I'm also a plumber. I've been studying them for twenty years now."

"20 years?" Ritchie said in surprise. "Jeez, what does your wife think of all this?"

The smile suddenly fell from Alex's face. "Um, well she thought it was all right. She kept me and Astra in her prayers."

Constantine raised an eyebrow. "She thought?"

Alex didn't say anything. It was Astra who explained the situation.

"Mummy died of cancer last year," she said meekly.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Chas said.

"It's all right," Alex said, "We try to move on. That's why I'm always bringing Astra along. I have no one else to trust and care for her."

"Well, Astra is welcome to our merry band as well," Chas smiled.

Constantine didn't like the idea though. "Don't I get a say in this?"

"Sorry, Johnny," Ritchie said.

Constantine watched Astra draw on the notebook with a black pen. She was drawing a bird. But he couldn't tell what kind of bird it was, at first.

"What kind of bird is that?" he asked.

She smiled at him slightly. "A dove."

She then started drawing something that disturbed Constantine at first but didn't think for any cause of alarm. If only he had seen the signs. It looked like a dog combined with a monkey's head. She would draw small circles and squiggly lines over it. Constantine didn't know what they were so he didn't make much of it.

"And what's that?"

"That's my friend Mr. Norfulthing," she said.


After talking with Dr. Martin, Constantine heads back to his room for another restless night. Hopefully, the medication will help this time.

As he nears his room, something moves from the corner of his eye. When he turns his head to the corridor, there's nothing. Constantine sighs tiredly. Years of demon hunting and other types of monsters messed with his mind. He can no longer tell the difference between reality and illusion. I must be hallucinating. I need sleep.

He opens the door and nearly falls back with fright upon seeing someone standing in his room. A girl…A child. She looks about 14. No, 16. But John can't see her face clearly. Long black hair covers her face. Her shoulders and fingers twitch slightly. With his heart pounding fast, John slams the door shut. Bollocks. Not this shite again.

Now, calm down. It's probably just another bloody hallucination. He continues to tell this lie to himself over and over again even though he is never sure anymore. He opens the door again and the girl is still standing there. He then slams it shut once more.

"Nope," he says before turning to leave, only to find himself face to face with her again.

She doesn't attack him. She simply stands there, looking down at her bloodied feet.

Constantine takes a step back as she gets closer.

"Who the bloody hell are you?" he asks. "And what the fuck are you doing here? Jilling off, aren't you?"

The girl doesn't say anything.

John frowns in confusion. Is she really going to make me do this? "…I am addressing the entity who has come to visit me tonight. What is your name and business?"

She doesn't respond, much to his surprise. This usually works.

"I said, I'm addressing to the entity —."

She walks right past him. Constantine turns and watches her walk down the hall. The lights in the ceiling begin to flicker rapidly.

Annoyed, John follows the girl. "Oi, I am addressing you." No response. "You come here and give me a fucking fright and you won't even say a bloody word to me. Either you tell me who you are and what your business is, or I will send your soul back to wherever it came from."

The girl proceeds to walk away from him without saying a single word. However, John notices something is not right. The girl's feet start to drag across the floor rather than pace. Blood leaks down her arms. Her breathing becomes shallow and hoarse. It's like she's getting sick or something.

John proceeds to follow the girl until they reach the stairwell to the roof. By this point, the girl has now fallen onto her knees, gasping and reaching out for the stairs.

"Home…" she mumbles while still gasping.

Shocked and confused by this, John reaches out to grab the girl's arm but quickly pulls back for her skin is burning hot. Almost like fire. Which is odd. Ghosts are usually ice cold.

"Home…" she continues to mumble as she drags her body upstairs, still gasping loudly.

"Listen, if you want me to take you home, I can help you with that. But it's like you're not even listening to me. It's like…" John's eyes widen as a realization occurs to him. "You're not a spirit, aren't you? You're a premonition. Something bad is going to happen, isn't it? And it involves you, doesn't it?... And I keep talking to her like she's fucking listening. Wait up! I need to see where you're going!" He rushes after her.

He follows her upstairs to the roof.

The girl falls to the floor, facedown. John still can't see her face. All he can see is the blood leaking out from her body and pooling the floor. John looks in shock and worry. He then watches her gag and convulse.

"You're going to die, aren't you?" he asks as he kneels next to her. He's tempted to brush aside the hair from her face but he's not sure how she'll react to it. Whether she'll be hostile or not. "Is that what you're trying to tell me?... You want me to save you? I'm sorry, but this is not my problem. If you want help, find someone else."

A low growl suddenly rings his ears. The girl's hair suddenly turns cotton white and her skin turns red as the blood.

"Who says I need your help, John Constantine?" The girl looks up, now exposing her face, also red as blood. But her eyes are also yellow and her teeth black and sharp.

"Blimey!" John yells as he gets up and makes a run for the door to head back downstairs but it slams shut with a loud bang. "Bollocks," he mutters before turning around to face the demon. "Deceitful demon. Who the bloody hell are you? And why did you bring me all the way here?"

The demon chuckles evilly. "Why else? To kill you, of course." She bounds after John.

He starts mumbling his spells to incapacitate her but doesn't seem to work. The demon swings her claws and scratches him in the arm. He cries out.

She grabs John by the throat. John chokes and tries to yell out an incantation but none have worked so far. Now, he can't even speak. The demon hangs him over the edge of the roof, his feet now dangling in the air. "I see what she sees. I know what she knows. Because I am part of her. She will seek you out to be her savior. But I will make sure you're dead before that ever happens. She will never be rid of me. And neither will you, John Constantine."

"Oh bollocks," Constantine said, preparing for the death strike.

The demon raises her claw-like hand to slash his neck but she suddenly freezes. She then lets out a piercing scream. Her body soon disintegrates and disperses into hundreds of birds. John yells as he falls to the ground.


The next day, one of the nurses steps out of the psychiatric building to have a cigarette after attending to some of the patients. A young lady with brown tied up hair and round glasses. She stops by the entrance to pull out her lighter and cigarette. After putting the cigarette between her teeth, she tries flicking on the lighter. However, before she can get it lit, she hears a low moan coming from the other side of the building, in the bushes. She pauses for a moment, thinking it was her imagination, before trying to light up her cigarette again. But the same moaning sound comes back again, along with a cry of agony. Curious to know what this is, she puts her lighter back into her pocket and follows the sound. It's coming from the bushes near the patients' room. It could be one of the patients having an unauthorized outing.

Though, once she finally nears the bushes, she squeals upon seeing John Constantine lying limp on the shrub with his leg twisted and a bump of his bone threatening to break through the skin, making it look grey from the cut of blood circulation. Constantine himself is covered in cuts and bruises from the fall but the nurse doesn't see the claw marks on his face and arm. Constantine knows she can't see them.

"Mr. Constantine!" the nurse cries out in shock.

"Morning, Doris," he says, knowing the names of all the nurses and doctors he met at Ravenscar. "Wonderful morning, ain't it? Say, you don't mind getting the doctor for me, eh? I would do it myself but as you can see, my leg is not in its right place at the moment." He says this while groaning in pain.

"What happened!? Were you trying to kill yourself again!?"

"Trust me, love. If I was, I wouldn't be asking for a doctor. I would be asking for a body bag."

Though, I think I might be needing one soon.