DC: The Brave and the Bawdy

Constantine: A Damned Man

"You sure about this, John?"

"Have I ever led you astray?"

"Once or twice."

John Constantine and Frank "Chas" Chandler were each positioned on either side of the entrance to a church. Both were pressed against the wall, ready to burst in at any moment. The two had been investigating this small town for some time now. There were rumors of black magic and such about. John had confirmed these rumors and tracked the origin to whomever was in the church at this moment.

"Just let me do the talking, eh?" said John.

"If you say so."

John pulled the doors open and rushed into the church, followed closely by Chas. The two looked across the empty pews to the individual standing at the altar across the room, facing away from them. He was a tall and slender man in a fine, black suit.

"Alright," said John, walking toward the man, "We've figured you out. You're the one who's been causing this town strife. Creating problems and then offering to solve them for a price. Just how many souls have you claimed in exchange for 'protecting' these people?"

"More than you could appreciate, John," responded the man at the altar, not turning around, "These people needed protection. In exchange for their measly souls, I promised no more demonic magic would befall this poor town."

"John," whispered Chas, "He knows you. If you know his name, this should be easy."

"Hardly narrows it down," said John, "Half the bloody population of Hell knows me."

The man turned around. His face was long and smooth, devoid of any hint of facial hair. His eyebrows were sharp and distinct. His lips curled whenever he wasn't speaking. This didn't help identify him either. Demons took all sorts of human forms. John would have to dig deeper to find out his true name.

"You're too late," said the man, "Just about every soul in town belongs to me now."

"Not for long," said John, approaching the man, "We're going to stop you."

"Stop me?" chuckled the man, "You? That hardly seems likely."

"Perhaps," acknowledged John, still approaching, "but I make a profession out of accomplishing the unlikely, you see."

"You stand no chance," responded the man.

"Plenty have said that before," declared John, "but few have had the record to back it up."

"They were not me," responded the man, "I have done this many times before, John. I have been acquiring and dealing in souls centuries before you were even born."

"You expect me to believe your collection of souls poses a threat?" scoffed John.

"You underestimate me," said the man, "My collection of souls is unrivaled. None can boast a stronger hold on the soul trade than I."

"I see," smiled John, "Well, there's only one demon I know with such a finger on the pulse of the soul trade."

"Wait...!" said the man.

"Neron!" declared John, "This ends now!"

John knew exactly what to do. There was a lot of power in a demon's name. With it, even a mortal could exert control. There were limits of course, but with John's knowledge and talent he had more than enough information to send Neron straight back to Hell. John thrusted out both of his arms as he began a Sumerian chant.

Neron roared as his eyes flared a bright red. Black energy coursed across the room. John was knocked painfully onto his back before he could finish his chant. Chas was also thrown to the ground. Neron smiled as he approached them both. He kicked John in the side and stepped onto his chest, slowly pressing down. To his surprise, John smiled in response.