DC Hellblazer: I'm Constantine

###### C19. I'm Constantine

There's only one way for me to win. And that's by being as smart as John Constantine should be. But I doubt that Constantine has ever been in the same exact precarious situation as I am. It'll take more than just tricks and gambles this time.

I zone out before either of us can make the first move. Neuro-pathways light up in my brain as clear and accurately as the marks on my skin - knowledge and experiences from times when the situation was as dire as this one. It comes in handy, and I know what precautionary steps to take.

Blight's a brute, the embodiment of all human evil. His sole purpose is to do what Creepers can never accomplish - cause so much chaos that it can only be described as Pure Evil. Unlike most demon's he's not the proud type. That simplifies his reasons for attending this auction. He's not here because I tapped into his power to defeat Dr. Destiny. He's not here for vengeance, only to commit evil. That's what makes him so dangerous, and that's why I choose to deal with him first.

Blight's biggest weakness is clear in my mind as day as I plot his downfall. I make sure I have his full attention by firing golden-brown Eldritch Blasts at his demonic form: a black mass spotted with dozens of red spots all over for eyes, with tentacle protrusions in most places. The demon gets enraged and lungs at me, physically barring the other demon lords from interfering with it's surging mass.

I was banking on that. It makes the process easier if it's just the both of us in headlock. Although, it would've been a hell lot of easier and less painful if I had the Keshanti Key on me, but it's warded in my trench coat pocket back on the surface. Can't hope enough for it to find me.

Ensuring I've got a protective shield up, I let Blight land one on me - a massive punch from out of nowhere that sends me crashing in the rough surface of the arena. The pressure from the punch crunches the mass of rocks beneath my back, causing a submerge that resembles a small circle. It's not enough. I need him to punch me harder.

"I could've sworn y' used to hit harder than that," I try taunting him, with the hope of finding a trace of pride in his form. But as it happens, it's not a necessary tact. Blight's already in the air, hurling at me with all the might of a Gatling.

Before he starts raining down punches, he takes the moment to note with a vicious tone, "I'm evil. Pure Evil that requires no hatred. But you... John Constantine. You managed to birth a seed of dislike within me-..."

He strikes me a number of times, but I barely submerge further. We're in the core, and the rocks here are firmer than at the crust. I want to sink further into the ground, and I dread the only way to achieve this.

*Bollocks! I've got to really feel his punches, innit?* I swallow hard and dispel my protective shield before I can think twice about it. His next punch lands on my ribs, then my face. My body starts to heat up when more follow in quick succession, and I half-wish to die instead of surviving the pain and the shock.

Blight pauses, to finish his monologue. His tone's full of sinister satisfaction, "-...and alongside it, another of appreciation. Before, I never understood Vengeance. Now... it's only fair you reap what you sowed."

His brief pause allows my eyes to wander and notice that he's been pummelling me, harder each time, until I'm now submerged in a shallow basin.

*It's sufficient!* I figure, wearing a forced, bloodied smirk and starting to chant, rapidly.

I notice something like a malevolent grin when he falls to finish me up, but it falters the minute he notices that mine's wider and there's magic rising around him. He sees the familiar rays and tries to escape by flight, but I'm already finishing my incantation.

"Sorry mate, I'll skip harvesting this season," I quip as the magic flares and surrounds him.

*...vorez sizien!*

"No..! Not again!" Blight cries furiously.

In a blip, Blight's form vanishes and I'm the only one who knows where I've sent him: his prison back in the Collective Unconscious where he's utterly powerless. Now that I remember correctly, that's where Constantine locked him up before, when he rampaged in New York. It seems that by using his power, I ended up freeing him.

Demon power doesn't come for free after all.

I stand up, bloodied. My body's healing up after that serious beating I've received. It was a costly trick, to pull that stunt. I knew the demons wouldn't allow me to create a banishing circle with my favourite chalk dust. I had to improvise, put my body on the line until one was created proper - that shallow basin I'm just coming out from, that is. And with the magic already flowing through Hell, it was sufficient. Botched, but sufficient enough to cast almost the same banishing spell Constantine used.

Although the other demons won't go down easy, I pat myself in the back for that small win. Face to face, I come with Nergal and the First, both ready to prance.

"Care to spot a bloke a fag and a lighter, good lads?" I can't help but laugh in the face of danger. Scratch that: in the butthole of despair!

"Sure, old friend," comes the deep voice of Neron (Nick Negro version), almost as if he's talking into my ears. Actually, he's right behind me. If he wanted to, he could snap my neck right now and there's nothing I could about it. But instead?

He puts a cigar in my trembling lips, gently. "Quite the mark of pride you've etched on your skin," he says as he lights it up. "Hellblazer? It's most... evoking."

"Hihiiihi.." Nergal laughs, a high-pitched shriek. "You smell of burnt hair, Constantine."

That's Nergal's way of saying he can smell my despair. I can smell it too. In the cigarette smoke. And I can also taste the fear on my lips.

"It tastes like peaches covered with fresh bone marrow, doesn't it?" Neron asks as if he's reading my mind and taste buds.

"Fear," Neron adds.

My fear evaporates and gets replaced by concern. It's not possible for anyone to read my mind so easily. I'm sure of it. It's the one asset I protect above all else. Nothing can try to breach the protective wards in my mind without me sensing it. Even Neron's not that powerful yet.

"Mh-mh-mh..." Neron chuckles. "It tasted the same way. The day I became a Reborn Demon."

"The day you turned me into a fiend," his voice is full of accusations, and it feels like all the collective dark clouds of the underworld have gathered above and around him to supplement his anger against me.

Nergal takes a step back, but the First doesn't budge. Mammon is further back from them and the Demons Three are watching from the safety of the crowd.

"Looks like you made good on your damnation, mate," I try to keep my ground, but his hot stinking breath is akin to having a dragon breathing on my neck.

"Why yes," Neron admits. "I never blamed you once for what you did. After all, you did it to save millions from dying at my hands."

"Good to know we're solid, old-timer," I may look unfazed on the outside, but deep down, I'm trying to come up with all the ways I could put him down. I know a good option, but where's a trench coat when you need it?

Neron chuckles, a dark, villainous laugh that seems to dance with the Hellfire around the Gutters. Most demons seem intimidated by his presence. After all, he's bound to rise to be ruler of Hell sooner than later, surpassing even the First - the current Satan.

"We were," Neron says. "And I never intended to punish you. But that was until you became the Hellblazer and started torching up souls, committing the same crime that you damned. me. for."

The stress in his final words lingers as he turns to face me. I can now see why he's intimidating. He's got a superior presence even without revealing his true demonic physiology. He's adorned red armour with horn-like protrusion, a tail and large wings on his back. His face is grotesque and one look at him, anyone would hail him as Satan himself.

"Tchi," the First scoffs, ignoring Neron's presence. "Are you out of your cheap tricks yet, Constantine?"

The First speaks boldly, like he wants a piece of me ASAP, but I can tell he's not acting yet because he's being cautious. Constantine's tricked him twice so far, and the bar is three times. Then, the First will be condemned to suffer according to some ancient rule. The first time, Constantine tricked him into drinking Holy water. The second, into curing his terminal cancer.

The third? I don't plan on disappointing.

Bollocks! Words just won't flow, and these bloody paper cuts are doing me in. AI might be all the rage, but it don't speak my language - not properly, anyway. Feels like a load of phonies whenever I read 'em. Truth is, I've started preferin' the mistakes, the rough cuts - makes me use my brain proper. But blimey, it's no walk in the park, and let's face it, the comment section ain't enough. I need somethin' bigger, better - above and beyond.

Now, I could trick ya into it, but Zee reckons I should try honesty for once. So what d'ya think, mates? Care to give my [Patreon page](Patreon.com/mimiclord) a peek? Or do I need to drag ya kicking and screaming through Hell to get yer attention?