John Constantine the Laughing Magician Presents – Life in the Real World –

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Chapter 27: The First Hunter – My Rival in Bloody Stakes

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"Oh! You were summoned, ye say?" The woodsman half fae takes to his ale mug while his other bakes more mindless stacks of bread for purchase. "I was, and it was due to the death of the first." I take a swig. Pissed as all bleeding shite, I feel a "nod," looking for a way to contact anyone in the state I'm currently getting into. I had to summon an invention that change reality. I feel as if my carelessness will bite me one day. For now, not so much.

"He's not dead, magi."

The sputter I gave then –

Ale splashes as I set down that tall one, wasted!

"What are you telling me? That the details of the council's…."

I froze up and it made me sick. They wanted me here. The Count pushed and a lie flew out to be revealed as stubborn at this table. "Tell me, who was the previous. The man who was supposed to keep the peace between the Count and Dragon General?"

"He had long dark locks. He said we had lovely manners and tipped a had you don't see. To the west, maybe." Shrugged the fae male. "He wore red, a lot of it. And his eyes were tinged like a man possessed. He carried weapons on im. Fancy. As if he had been paid by the country's top rulers…."

"Weapons?" I'm bobbing my head to this one, yet a man with an assassin's creed? "What kind of weapon, was it a sword –

"Crossbow. Like in the king's army."

My eyes, oh….gods that is dramatic. "Thank you for the meal. I'd best ask before I shove….where was this man last spotted?"

"He'sa bit of a shoddy fellow. Just goes hazed and everyone calls him a mad man. Said he almost went mad in the castle of the Count, yet he has mind to buy his drink." The fae woman ponders before pointing to the window where the trees are thickest out in the deepest forest. "A spooky place to have a tantrum, ain't it?"

"He prefers the privacy. No light catches through those trees. We heard a curse has it as a place to be spirited." The lady fae shudders as I apologetically give my thanks once more. I have a new destination. Right. To find a man who knows how to kill a vampire lord in cold blood. Or tried it, and was banished into madness.

Or, is he just finding his fire again in that spook - bush?

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I go into that brush with feet like a damned puss. My objective is to find the drunken wanker before he goes out into the village to pick his side of a keg and tap into that. (Sorry, wanted him to sound carefree. Still doing research on brit slang. Anyway, sick in bed. This is my entertainment right now. Glad to be on the next chapter!)

The chopping sound of a faint are pushes me onto my toes to rush into danger – and he'll, I'm used to it. See how old John has never a fear of death on his shallow mind. The chopping is silenced with a sigh. He spotted me?

"Damned hawthorn."

The man's voice is like Dragul's. Must be a local.

Getting winded, he's wearing a tattered side a soddy rags, just like the cook in the kitchen said. He's not wearing a hat though. Could he be laying low from his oppressors? My mind looks to the axe. It looks sharp – wait a tic, is that all then?

"Time for a drink…" The canteen of animal flesh he pulls out isn't a bear's paw. I let my eyes take it in. A crest is on a piece of his finger. A pentagram (Like Sebastian,) is imprinted in blood ink upon this character's fore hand. I have to say…did a sightless imp do it for free??

Chas had a better hand if…. shite! He's getting up!

"Um, sorry mate." Gingerly, I'll be a tourist. Have im' stand still so we can get this all out of our way. "But damned be it if I lost my way on this path…you wouldn't happen to know where a bloke could run into an inn around these woods, would you? I'm in need of a tall glass."

His lips curl up in amusement as the face the fae sister described is dead on. Vamp – like, even with the band of long locks to cover those pointed ears. "As long as you are here, I think I have an extra sack of my homemade concoction. Takes a lot off of the mind." He drags it out, outstretched to me as I am reluctant to be drugged or wiped clean before ending my mission. "I…suppose this is where you live, mate?"

"Mate…you do not take like you are of these lands. Are you from the north country?"

He chugs his dew and I do the same.

It is

Good.

Can't complain until I lose feeling in my bones, but what the hell. Thing about being cursed by a time God….?

Death has a thing for immortal souls.

"Sit." He pats next to him on a fallen log. I don't think leaving is wise, so I take his offer up. The blood red eyes too. A bot dim, maybe half of the original?

"Do you have a story to tell, mate?" I jokingly throw that into the fire as to see if he's the true blooded figure from my thoughts. He only shrugs and drinks up. "A many, some not as precious as the last. Memories that I'd rather have forgotten. This, is why we drink today." I clank my canteen to his as we sip and think. Even in a silent stupor for half the time.

"So…. you are, a woodman?" I slur a bit. This stuff…what was in it?

"No. Contracting. This helps me to not lose focus. My hands hold many tools in my job. It is, thrilling. This, relaxes." His voice is soft and mellow, but so very much like the Count's sultry timbre. I'm bothered by what I do next, my body is fuzzy…Rule number fourty – seven, kids? Never accept homemade grub or brew from a man dressed up to kill. If you do encounter…. ugh…someone with that much gall…

I get light headed as he just takes another sip.

Mine was drugged. Had to be a damned trap! Always a trap for the witless drunk, eh? Well, recall my ability in China.

I gag, yet he has my throat so my magic is forfeit…and then…. it's lights - out for Johnny.

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It's on the tip of my tongue from the academy I studied…. Henbane. a real biter in the bollocks. Mixed with a relaxant, I'm not at a demonic health spa. I was captured. But by a man claiming to be just a woodcutter out on his lunch hour. The bell must ave' rang after I fell over. Was that mushroom in the base? I can still bloody taste insanity!

"I know your face from many posters around the sphere of time. You skip into our world as well as many others. Who do you think wanted you here?"

He has his hat, his cloak and his gear just as she said. His nose is pointed and cunning are those orbs looking down on me. "Constantine; just a child of circumstance, no? I am called Vampire Hunter Extraordinaire, Helsing. D. Helsing."

Did….did I hear that right? Am I wide awake, inside a picture book or a movie right about as he stands at me??

"No joke…. I see that…ow…"

"The relaxant shall wear away, once you agree to do as I do; Dracula's enemies sent me to take him down as an advocate for peaceful relations. Just as you. The worry was that he wanted my head. The last battle was of the Vampire queen. The man's great ancestor."

He's a chatter half – a, ain't e?

"I believe she is not dead as well…plotting her return as Dragul does as she decrees. This was why I fled. I faked my death and have hidden in this shack," He points to the rocketing wood above out heads. "This place is only safe if I do not remain during the night. Only at dawn may a resume my façade and keep quiet among the treetops of this village. They call me a bumbler, an odd man…" Smirked the toothy grinner. "I don't deny why you would be nervous. For I called to you, Constantine. I need your help to save the half fae. The last of our kind."

His hat is tipped for me to sympathetically take his claw and offer my support. Funny, I thought my bones would have made an excellent addition to that rank stew he shoved into my face. Well played, chap. Well done.

"I'll agree, but." I stop his grin as reality shushes us both up. "But, you'll have to promise to get my allies and I back to our time, our universe. Earth, in the present day London, England. The queen misses her magician, dearly." I dip my head and nervous as I was, my word was truly there; this half creature could see if my lie was false or no. But, it wasn't.

"Deal, magi. Your home is as good as found. Now. We must go to where the Count is next to strike." He moves to unbundled my limbs as he shoves a thorn –

"OWW! OW! HEY!?" Mate!-

"It's to rid you of the paralysis." Sure, fae magic. We'll go with that. What next? Fairy wing and pixie –

The cage we're bound to keep quiet in soon rattles. The daemon got my limbs out of a roll and I tuck into my pockets to see just…

The walls rattle again, and one falls flat so we can see the culprit. Dark horses. And , vampires….

Horsemen, here for two heads and no survivors.

Just my rotten luck…

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