DC Hellblazer: I'm Constantine

##### C16. I'm Constantine

Note: Unedited

I'm in Mammon's layer in the Underworld.

In Hell.

And yet, there's nothing about that that I find unsettling.

In fact, all the cheap Constantine lines are coming to me now, more to piss off Mammon than to comfort and assure myself.

"Try to be good spot this time, will you," I dare Mammon while trying to tap into the Hellblazer mark for a snuff of power, just to be sure I've still got that ace in the hole.

I feel nothing. It's like the mark's been ripped from my back.

Still, I'm not one to panic so fast. I reason that Hell's heat is blazing hotter than mine, that's why I can't feel my flames. Seeing that the other marks are still on my body, from the faint illumination of Hell fire, I feel reassured.

"It might be wise to hold your tongue before I gut it," Mammon warns. "Here, you are a sitting duck waiting to be skewed."

A hunchback passes Mammon a piece of paper - the contract that I signed. Behind Mammon's throne, I spot a vault with white bubbles inside and deduce it's his soul collection. A sign of his power, just like many other demon lords have. Although, their tastes defer. For Mammon he keeps collected souls as white bubbles - a sign of opulence. Nergal keeps them as an island of skulls to represent his domain: Desperation.

"My associates seem to think that you have the power to destroy us all," Mammon speaks, his mouth full of something. Like he's chewing. I spot a white substance at the corner of his mouth right before he swallows. A human soul.

Wonder where it goes after digestion. *If* there's digestion.

"And yet here you are, squealing under my mercy," Mammon laughs boastfully like a conqueror.

"The minute I heard of the Hellblazer, I immediately suspected that it was one of your cunning tricks, Constantine," Mammon continues, his seat croaking under his fat belly. "How typical of me to be right."

"Quite the moment you're having," I speak. "But if you're done being full of yourself, might I suggest that this is no way to treat a business partner. I believe it's a breach of contract?"

"Ha," Mammon finds it amusing. "Who's full of himself now?"

"You think, I could treat you like a fellow demon lord just because of this," he holds out the contract. "This piece of crap?"

He shreds it into pieces with bare hands. But just as the scraps fall to the pile of gold, the contract reattaches, good as new. Mammon gets furious, stomping it, but sits back down, calming his nerves.

"I'm still yet to understand why my most trusted accountant would stoop so low as to sell London's branch of Mammon Investments behind my back," Mammon says with growing disgust in his voice. "Especially to a lowlife like you."

"And for what?" Mammon grunts. "Sanctuary? Money? Power? What... What exactly could be worth betraying me?"

"Mercy," I reply in a cool-headed tone.

"Ngh?" Mammon throws me a glance that says he might have been infuriated by my guts. "Mercy?"

"The last trio of demons that failed to understand the value of my mercy, basked in the warmth of my fury," I explain. "I suggest you learn from their error."

Mammon goes quiet for a moment, and I can tell he's skimming. He's the sly kind. A business typical. I know full well he didn't rise to power by acting on emotion. His next words are not to be trusted.

He's heard the buzz in the underworld. Of the Hellblazer burning down businesses up-top with the powers of demon lords like himself. It's an unusual, unheard of, strange ability. Only one close to such power is Lucifer, and even he has his limits.

"Hellblazer..." Mammon ponders on the name, quietly. "It's not just a name is it? It's not by chance that you have my mark - my demon sigil - on your chest, I suppose."

I don't say a word, although I'm sweating from the heat.

"Very well then," he says with a tone that suggests he's choosing to take my word for it. "There are seven billion souls on Earth. I'd say it's a market large enough to accommodate one more business start-up."

Releasing me from bondage, Mammon gestures for me to sit on smaller chair made of souls, across from him. I refuse and stand my ground. It disgruntles him, to be disrespected, but he doesn't show it. Not while the mouse's still on the lose.

"Let's make a deal," Mammon starts, and I take it as my cue to give my terms.

"Indeed, let's make a deal," I say. "For mercy, you'll set me free and give me a pair of wings."

"Mh-hh," Mammon's slightly amused. I'm in his lair, looking completely helpless and yet I'm making demands like I'm in charge. But like I said, Mammon's the sly kind.

"Word goes that everyone that's heard that demand has ended up regretting their next choice of words," Mammon says.

"Twas a poor string if you ask me," I say.

"Like you advised, I should learn from their error," Mammon's says, with that faux-friendliness. His true colours will show soon, a cloud looming not so far. "I don't have any pair of wings myself, but I know of an underground auction that might have just what you need."

"I don't suppose it's happening any time soon?" I inquire.

"Very," Mammon affirms. "And in exchange for getting you an invite, I'd say it's fair I got my branch back."

Convenient. He's definitely planning that auction in his mind as we speak. The perfect ambush if I play along.

"I didn't acquire it for cheap," I tempt.

"You don't have to be bull-headed, Mr. Hellblazer," Mammon says with his sly voice. "Let me throw in something extra, if to sweeten the deal."

"A company is a brand, and Mammon Investments doesn't fit yours. You need something that screams and shouts Hellblazer. A way to earn your reputation, like the most of us. One that's not only feared, but also revered," Mammon explains, business knowledge pouring out. "In exchange for my London branch, I'll give you the investment and support you require to build this brand. Such that, you won't have to burn down more businesses to gain a competitive edge."

"What makes you so sure I want to deal in trading souls?" I ask, not really sure where his assumption is coming from.

"It's in the name," Mammon replies. "Hellblazer. And in case you're wondering what your muse is, you've been unconsciously using my *business acumen* to fulfil your thirst for power."

He goes on to elaborate.

"You wanted wings, and once you'd gotten them, you'd want something else next," Mammon continues, pouring out knowledge as if I'm his ungrateful apprentice. "Without the proper channels, the subsequent tasks would grow increasingly difficult."

"That's why my business acumen offered you counsel to burn those souls as a first step to entering the soul-trading business, your most assured fast-track to acquiring anything your heart desires," Mammon declares with a grin on his face. "It's only natural, for someone who has hell burning through his veins."

For a moment, I'm really thrown off by his level of knowledge and introspection. But what the heck does he mean by "offered counsel"? I did what I did by my own accord.

I'm sure of it.

"Well, whatever," I say, not wanting to read too deeply into his musing. "Just get me the invite."

Remembering I don't have my coat here, I make sure to ask, "Got any stairs I can climb?"

Mammon chuckles, "You're now a guest in my domain, Mr. Hellblazer. I'd suggest you get comfortable."

"Have a drink or two, enjoy a succubus or three," whatever he says spawns. Drinks, three succubae and more luxuries. "You're one of us now. I'm sure they'll try not to bite."

It's not how I was planning to spend my weekend, but I guess I ain't got a choice. Mammon's a demon of his word, and right before he cultivated that faux-friendliness, he did promise that there was no coming back from hell for me. This is part of the way to keep my senses dulled before he prances on me from my back.

Like I'll let him. Tsk.

"I've never been one to shut down luxury," I say as I let the succubae wrap their hands around me. They are gorgeous- well, they look gorgeous. Because it's what I want to see. If only I didn't know what they really looked like underneath, I'd be more easy.

They've got these smiles and soft giggles that would make anyone let their guard down, but that's before they turn on you in the middle of the night and suck your essence out.

All things considered, hell may not be so terrible after all, I tell myself a lie.