Chapter One AKA Behold and Witness

"In my line of work, you've got to learn how to live with monotony. Sure, there's always the occasional shattering of expectations when you unearth a new low in human depravity, but more often than not everyone lives with the same old sins. But in the end, it's better to welcome that mundane degradation. I know I do. Not because I want my world view of mankind being the worst to be justified even more, but because that kind of shit is way above my pay-grade."


Hell's Kitchen, New York City

12:15 A.M.

Jessica had been trailing the girl for almost an hour now. Now she was starting to get a bit impatient and anxious as her missing person's case had gone on far longer than usual. She couldn't blame herself this time though. It had only been a few weeks since she'd finally dealt with Kilgrave so now she was throwing herself into her work in an effort to distract from the whole ordeal she'd been through.

When she first took on Katie Gerardo's case, she assumed it would be the standard fare. Girl gets bored with her partner, finds someone else, falls in love, runs away with them and drops off the radar leaving the poor ex to wonder what the hell happened without ever knowing what happened to her. At least it sounded like it when Katie's current girlfriend approached her with the case.

But then things took an interesting turn when she discovered the police report about the massacre that took place in some club over at West 44th Street. Every single band member was found sliced up, bloodied, cut-open along with everyone on their payroll. All except a particular fashion student/stylist.

And so, despite her better judgement, Jessica managed to find Katie and trail her for the last hour. Which was frankly short of a miracle considering that after twelve days of searching she only managed to find her when she spotted the young woman walking down the sidewalk on the other side of the street. She trailed Katie to one of the many dive bars in Hell's Kitchen, a dingy punk bar with some scattered graffiti and weird symbols painted on the windows.

Normally she would've just called the police at this point and let them arrest her, given the nature of the case, but she still had a contract to fulfill with her client. Find Katie Gerardo, get proof of her whereabouts and collect the fee. And considering how she only managed to find the girl just an hour ago, the authorities could wait until she was done with the girl.

Taking a good a look at the building, she made sure that no one was near before she jumped up and onto the building's fourth floor fire escape. It wasn't really flying but it was close enough.

Fancy-ass jumping. It gets the job done. Whatever.

Opening the adjacent window, she climbed into the building. Hell's Kitchen was known for attracting its fair share of New York's 'eccentric' crowd, but even that fact didn't prepare her for the multiple levels of weird shit that this case would unfold, starting with the room she entered. Covering the walls, red painted – or what she hoped was red painted – phrases ranging from "forgive me" to "spare me damnation's flame" to some phrases she recognized as Latin but didn't know what it meant. On the ceiling was some weird occultish looking symbol, a triangle with a flame inside and three arrows jutting out from one side all encompassed by a circle. And on the floor, scattered papers, torn books and a whole mess of splintered wood as if a table exploded or something.

Well, this isn't fucking creepy as shit. Jessica thought as she did her best to suppress that uneasy feeling that had started to build in her stomach. Just go in, get the pictures and get out.

Stepping toward the door she felt herself stumble on something that she had stepped on. Looking down she saw it was a small crucifix. It seemed to draw her intention in some unexplainable way seeing as she picked it up off the floor. She stared at it for a moment, before she was brought back to her senses by the faint sound of voices from somewhere below. She placed the crucifix back in her pocket before stepping out of the room to investigate.

Stay focused Jones.

The building seemed to be stripped bare, seeing as all the other floors were hollowed out, almost no doors between the fourth floor and the ground level. She approached the door that led to the bar and slowly stepped through. The sound of music and chatter grew stronger as she walked down the hall toward the light at the end of the hallway.

Positioning herself near the edge of the hallway, she peaked around the corner and saw Katie sitting at the bar. She had blue-dyed hair all tied up in a bun, with a white blouse and a short blue skirt. She seemed on edge, nursing a drink in one hand, while the other was grasping something around her neck.

Getting out her camera, Jessica readied herself to take her pictures of the girl's whereabouts and hopefully she could find some inkling as to why she was on the run.

Katie downed the rest of the drink before letting out a tired sigh. Looking down at the pendant that she was clutching, Jessica noticed that she seemed on edge, yet somehow was calm enough to appear out in a public place. She knew she was involved somehow in the massacre but whether or not she was just running away from the people who did it or if she was the one responsible seemed to be up in the air.

Best not speculate too early. After all it's better to let the police handle all that crap.

Jessica took a few shots of Katie, making sure to keep out of sight not only from the young woman but from the rest of the club patrons. But whatever suspicions Jessica had about the girl before, all seemed to disappear upon the sight of the new arrival.

"Hey, I need to pay…" Katie called out timidly to the bartender who seemed to pre-occupied in cleaning the bar.

"Already, luv? We haven't gotten a chance to know each other." A gruff accented voice popped up from behind her.

Turning to face the mysterious voice, Katie was surprised – along with Jessica from her hiding spot – to see the grim-looking face of a blonde man in a suit and trench-coat smiling at her with a devious grin.

Jessica noted that the man was English going by the way he talked. His demeanor, posture, and sense of dress all gave off the impression that he was the type of man not to be trusted and one who was used to getting what he wants.

More British jackwagons. Fan-fucking-tastic. As long as he doesn't have mind control, I can deal…

She steadied her breathing before she got out her smart phone and started recording the burgeoning conversation. She quickly focused her attention back onto Katie.

"Whoa, sorry there. Didn't mean to startle you."

"No, I'm sorry, you're fine." She stuttered out.

"Well now I feel like aright arse. I see a pretty girl sitting by her lonesome and what, scare her to half to death?"

"Just been a weird few days. But they're starting to look up I think." Katie replied, gripping the necklace she had around her neck. "I'm safe now. Finally safe. You just made me think… but no… it's over now."

"Buy me a drink. I'll let you tell me about it." The Englishman replied with a soft grin and levity in his voice.

"That line actually work?"

"Occasionally."

Jessica rolled her eyes at the Englishman's attempt at 'charm' as she discreetly snapped a few more shots of him and Katie. But now she was intrigued. Whatever the hell it was that this girl found herself in, she was in it deep. And despite what Katie thought, Jess's sixth sense told her that this girl was still somewhere deep in the fire.

"I've had a few weird days here and there in my life. Maybe I could be some kind of help." He continued, his voice softening slightly.

"Nothing like this…" Katie sighed as her head dropped down slightly.

"Look at me." The Englishman waited until Katie was staring up into his eyes. "I'm serious. I can tell you're in a rough spot, whether you think you are anymore or not. And not the kind of rough spot that you can talk about with just anyone."

Katie noted the sincerity behind the man's voice as he finished. "Let me help you."

Taking a deep breath, she hesitated before taking up the stranger's offer before she plucked up the courage to start her story.

"You go to places like this a lot?" She asked him.

"Not in a very long time."

"It's kinda what I do. I'm a stylist for musicians I make the get-ups they wear onstage. Special stuff. Weird stuff. It used to be easy." She lamented, her voice threatening to waiver. "All I wanted was it to be easy again."

Leaning onto the bar, the Englishman asked her, "What did you do, Katie?"

"N-Nothing." She replied far too quickly and far too nervously for anyone to believe her. "Nothing at all."

Jessica noted that the girl had a far-off look in her eyes as if she was recounting the events that led to her dropping off the grid.

"I mean, sure I got these jackets off of a rough crowd. Really great ones too… this perfect kind of leather. With these patterns you wouldn't believe. They caught the light perfectly. Wear it onstage, you look like a bad-ass from another freaking world." She smiled slightly, before frowning at her recollections. "But the price… the price was a bit steeper than I expected."

All of the girl's confessions seemed to answer the questions that Jessica had swirling in her mind, yet there was something off about it. It was as if she was telling the truth but lacking purposefully on details, as if the nature of her experience was too traumatic for her to say out loud in full detail.

But there's something here that doesn't add up…

"So a girl on the run. That's pretty exciting." The Englishman remarked.

"Sure yeah…" Katie drifted off, clutching the necklace around her neck even tighter. "I had this one client. I knew she'd dealt with, well, buyers like this before. She said she knew a way to keep them from finding me."

"What on earth could do that?" He asked, curious as to what the girl had for protection.

"Would you believe it if I said it was this stupid guitar pick? I mean, have you ever heard anything so dumb?" She chuckled softly before holding up a guitar pick to show the man. "But it's working."

"Let me take a peek." He held out his hand and inspected the guitar pick.

"It's an old brand, they don't make picks anymore. You ever see one like it?"

"Once upon a time." The man said staring into the pick like it contained a myriad of histories and he was recounting all of them as if he'd lived them.

Taking a few more pictures she zoomed in with her camera to get a better look at the so-called 'lucky charm' that had supposedly kept Katie safe from whatever trouble she was in. It was plain with a silver finish, and nothing else save for two letters in bright gold on one side of the pick.

J.C.

"The lady said as long as I wore it, it'd keep me safe. Apparently it belonged to some guy she used to know a million years ago." She continued, feeling herself be more safe and secure in the presence of the guitar pick. "Someone who was good at getting out of his responsibilities. Didn't sound like she liked him much."

Jessica snorted slightly from her hiding spot. Whoever owned the thing sounded quite a lot like her. Only more of a dick.

The Englishman only smiled in response, his hands still maintaining a hold of the guitar pick.

"As long as you wear it, right?" He asked, still studying the accessory in his hand.

"Right." Katie responded assuredly.

It was then that Jessica noted a change in the man's demeanor as his meager smile of curiosity turned into what could only be described as a shit-eating grin.

"Katie." She looked back up at him to meet his words. "You're not wearing it anymore."

And sure enough, in the stranger's hand was the guitar pick and the necklace it was attached to, fully dangling in his grip and unattached to Katie's neck.

"How did you… wait…" Her face was now lined with fear and paranoia as she asked the man a question she didn't want to ask. "How do you know my name?"

Jessica's eyes widened as she instantly realized what was off about the conversation. If she'd just met the trench-coated weirdo at that moment, how did he know her name? She didn't introduce herself, and add the fact that he didn't give his name either, all made for what Jessica would call 'shit in the process of hitting the fan'.

Jesus! I'm a P.I.! How the fuck did I miss something like that?!

"I know a lot of things about you, Katie." The Englishman started as he placed the guitar pick in his pocket. "I know about the deal you made. I know how many people have died while you tried to throw off their scent. You said you were ready to pay the bartender, didn't you?"

Katie turned to the bartender and her face of paranoia turned into absolute fear as she stared into piercing red eyes that were returning her gaze. Looking around she noted that everyone in the bar seemed to be following suit, their skin starting to redden slightly and their eyes bright with a blood-red hue.

"BEEN WONDERING WHEN WE'D GET A CHANCE TO CATCH UP." The bartender said with a slithering, reptilian voice that sounded like it had crawled up from the depths of Hell.

Jessica's eyes widened further when she saw the 'bartender' smiling back at Katie with a mouth that was far too big to be human and teeth all as long and sharp as steak knives. She didn't know it herself but she found herself starting to hyperventilate at the sight of a deteriorating situation.

"But… But you said you wanted to help!" Katie cried in fear at the Englishman next to her.

"Sorry, luv." Getting out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, he quietly lit one and breathed out a puff of smoke in her direction. "I lied."

"Do you know what they'll do to me?" Katie asked in fear, begging for the man's help, anyone's help. "What kind of person are you?"

Watching the whole bar shift into their true demonic visages, every patron, worker and member of the house band, he turned her back to her and started to walk away as he answered her.

"Not a bloody superhero, that's for damn sure."

And without another word he stuffed his hands in his coat pockets and walked away from the soon-to-be bloodied site. Jessica watched helplessly as she saw the creatures starting to surround Katie, wanting to help but finding herself frozen in her place. She wasn't equipped to deal with… whatever screwed up shit was going down.

"Please! Help me!" Katie cried out as the creatures lept onto tables, blocked the exit, and flashed their bright, sharp teeth.

"NOO MORE HELP FOR YOU, KAAAAATIEEE. WE HAAAAVE HELPPED YOU WEEELL AND FULL." One creature hissed out at the frightened girl. "NOOOW YOU GIVE USSSS YOUR SKIINNN!"

Jessica looked on in petrified fright as she saw the creatures, like a pack of hyenas on a gazelle, leap at her and started piercing Katie with their razor-like limbs and biting at her with their massive teeth. She turned back and away closing her eyes as she saw the shadows of the horrific sight on the hallway walls. Katie's body pierced by the limbs of three of the creatures was held up like a carcass on display as the rest of the red-eyed beasts proceeded to use their own claws to skin the poor girl alive.

"The trouble with unfinished business is it always manages to catch up to you, doesn't it?" The Englishman finished, musing slightly to himself as his voice faded away.

The sound of Katie's screams, of her flesh being punctured and skinned was too much for Jessica as she started to hyperventilate. Taking in a few deep breaths she ran away from the scene and back upstairs and into one of the old building's empty rooms. Sliding down onto the floor, she closed her eyes and began to repeat quietly to herself.

Birch Street. Higgins Drive. Cobalt Lane. Birch Street. Higgins Drive. Cobalt Lane. Birch Street…

And after a few moments she felt calm enough and opened her eyes slowly. Either she was there for longer than she thought or the whole mess downstairs was finished faster than she expected given that there was complete silence from downstairs. Steeling herself, she took a few more calming breaths before she slowly got up from the floor and tilted her head slightly out the door to make sure she wasn't followed.

She saw that the coast was clear and the creatures didn't seem to follow her. Taking a few more calming breaths, she turned to look back out the doorway only to be greeted with the sight of one of the red-eyed monsters grinning intensely at her.

"Shit!" She yelled out, falling onto the floor, one of the contents of her pockets falling out as well.

"WEELLL, IT APPPEARRSSS WE HAAVE A WITNESSSSS. NOW THAAT JUST WON'T DOOOOO."

Under normal circumstances, Jessica Jones wouldn't have backed down from such a fight. But given that these were definitely far beyond normal circumstances she wouldn't feel too bad about running from this fight. As the creature stalked toward her, she crawled back slightly before she stopped. She felt her hand pressing down onto a piece of wood, the crucifix from the other room.

Now, Jessica wasn't one for religion but when confronted with some nightmarish beast, she'd be willing to accept that maybe those pricks who claimed that there was a Heaven and a Hell were right for once. She held the crucifix up in front of the beast in some idiotic attempt to compel the demon back into hell or whatever.

Screw you, I was panicking! You'd do the same thing in my place!

In response, the creature only laughed, its cackles sounding shrill and otherworldly.

"SUCH A FUUTILLEEE RESPONSEEE TO ONE'S OWN ENNNDDDD."

Looking at the wooden crucifix in her hand and back up at the creature ready to pounce on her, Jessica came to one simple conclusion.

Oh, fuck it.

And she quickly jumped out and away from the creature, ran toward the window and leapt through it, glass shattering as she broke through. She closed her eyes and readied herself for a hard landing onto the pavement. So, imagine her surprise when that didn't happen.

Instead she felt herself land onto the ground without any problem. In fact, it felt as if she had just taken a small step forward. Opening her eyes, she found that she was outside her apartment building on West 46th Street. Steadying her breathing she looked around and made sure that nothing had followed her.

A few people walking past, all enjoying their night. But none looking like the malformed entities that she had encountered back at that club.

Feeling that she was somewhat safe, she collapsed onto the front steps of the building and held her head in her hands.

Well, this just got a helluva lot more complicated.

Pondering just how she would explain all this to her client, she heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching her. She jerked her head up to see the strange man from the bar. The same one who had left Katie in the hands of whatever those things were in the bar.

Clad in a mid-length trench coat, a dress shirt, black slacks, boots and a red tie that seemed to hang loosely around his collar, she could make out his face for the first time clearly. Dirty-blonde hair, a curled lip, a heavy five o'clock shadow, and a cigarette hanging in his mouth. She knew that it would take more digging around to find out who or what he was, but she knew she wanted answers, and she'd be damned if she would let the English prick get away with it.

The man stopped mid-stride and turned to her, staring curiously into her eyes. She glared back at him, making her hostility known. He only gave a small grin back at her dagger-eyed stare. Taking the cigarette from his mouth he dropped it on the floor and stepped on it. He stared down at the camera hanging around her neck and gave her a quick wink before continuing down the sidewalk and disappearing around a corner.

Jessica was fuming now. She was in too deep to be uninvolved. Her natural curiosity only got the better of her because she had witnessed far too many things that failed to make any sense. She just couldn't help herself.

And that curiosity only strengthened when the following morning yielded the annoying surprise that she was missing some pictures from her camera's sim card. The ones of Katie at the bar were still there, so she at least had something for her client, but any trace of the blonde Englishman had vanished as if she had never taken those pictures.

Rubbing her head with one of her hands, she finished her bottle of Jack Daniel's and grabbed her phone. Despite her tendency to keep things bottled up, this case was just too fucked up for her to deal with alone right now.

"Hey Trish. It's me… Yeah, yeah, I know… Look, is it alright if I come over later? I need to talk to someone about this case and I don't know who else I can tell… No, no. It's not about him. He's dead and this time he'll stay that way… It's just that this something else... something far outside my pay-grade."

Jessica Jones, what the hell are you getting yourself into?


First impressions? I had a bit of fun writing this since I adapted it from one of the comics. And it was fun to really showcase just how morally ambiguous John Constantine is as a character. I think I might stick to this story for a while. It's not definite but it is quite tempting.

If you want to know which comic it's from the intro to "Constantine: the Hellblazer" series.

Anyway I hope you enjoy!