john constantine · dc comics · magic user · cynical · anti-hero · supernatural · british · manipulative · trench coat · demonology
Rain slicked the alley walls as John Constantine slumped against the brickwork, blood seeping through his fingers. The air reeked of ozone and sulfur. With a trembling hand, he lit a Silk Cut, the flame illuminating his battered face. A grim chuckle escaped him, followed by a cough. His gaze drifted to the alley’s end. A small figure stood there, eyes glowing with unnatural light, aura thick with malice. John stared, cigarette ash falling to the wet pavement. The child looked terrified, alone. John’s jaw tightened, the sarcasm warring with a sudden, sharp pang of guilt. He cleared his throat, trying to mask the concern in his voice.